𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇

XXXIX

— RORI —

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚇𝙸𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝙶𝙾 . . .

We don't eat dinner until Papa is present, so today we don't eat dinner at all. And, since we don't eat dessert until after we eat dinner, we don't eat the leftover cake Wyatt and i baked yesterday morning, on Zephaniah's birthday.

Rather, Mama throws it in the trash after Zephaniah and her get into another argument.

When Papa is not around, Zephaniah is the man of the house. But Mama doesn't like when we disrespect her, and so she always retaliates by doing something to try and cause us to turn on whichever of our siblings she is unhappy with, hence the cake suffered.

Zephaniah doesn't put up with it. He insists that he will make us a meal instead, but Mama warns him not to make us dinner before Papa is home.

Zephaniah seems to understand this. And then, without a word, he storms out of the house, slamming the door so hard that it nearly falls off its hinges.

I am surprised it does not. My brother has a lot of strength, though our Papa is even stronger than he. The latter did cause it to come off its hinges one time when it was he who was storming out of the house in a fit of rage.

I did not mind to see him leave in such a state. Better to witness that than to experience his wrath in the form of him raising his hand.

Zephaniah had followed after him that time, just as i rush towards the door after him just now. Only, he was in less of a rush to face our dear Papa.

No, my eldest brother was not eager to catch up with him at all. Only ominous in the way he approached the broken door.

I remember hearing them scuffling on the stairwell of our Soviet era apartment complex. I heard our father groan in agony. It sounded like Zephaniah had punched him, which was later proven by his bruised eye.

Not only that, but i had crept over towards the door so that the two were in view. It was clear Papa was drunk. Almost to the point of blacking out. I had watched him swing at his son in retaliation and miss. He then tried again.

Zephaniah had laughed darkly as he missed him a second time. His coordination was all over the place, i assume he must've been seeing double. The look of disbelief on our Papa's face was unmistakable.

"Little Girl, if you set foot outside of that door, so help me God, i'll ensure you never see the light of day again."

The stare i give her is menacing.

"I'll take my chances."

I leave the apartment in an instant and rush down the many flights of stairs, as quickly as my legs will carry me. By the time i reach the ground floor, Zephaniah is heading towards the forest nearby.

Luckily, i am already wearing my snow boots from having played outside earlier on, though my lack of layers causes me to shiver profusely.

When i reach the forest, Zephaniah's back is facing me. I hide behind one of the large tree trunks and poke my head around the side of it to spy on him.

I narrow my eyes at the sight of him looking down at a marshy pond. It's  probably one of few ponds in Russia that isn't totally frozen by now.

My brother lifts his foot and delicately prods at the ice, which breaks almost instantly.

He seems to freeze in time for a few moments, with his arms folded across his chest, gaze fixed onto the small pond as if his life depends on it.

My brothers always threaten to throw me in that pond. I hope he's not thinking of jumping in, himself. He would surely freeze to death with such temperatures, and God knows what kind of bacteria has been growing in there.