Breathe

The scars won't ever heal

Sanjit was screaming for Annie, but she was getting  farther from  her. Sanjit screamed until she no longer had a voice, but she could still hear that desperate plea.
Annie screaming for Sanjit. "Sanjit! Please help! Help me Sanjit!"
"Annie!"

Sanjit awoke with a jolt, her body aching in response.
She was staring at a rather odd ceiling, no points always on the ceilings... But roses.
Beautiful yellow roses.
Sanjit groaned as she attempted to sit up.

"I wouldn't do that." A voice, almost growled, from the darkness.

"You need rest," a woman shouted from another room.

Sanjit detected accents, but what was it? She couldn't think straight, her head was still fuzzy.
Out stepped a familiar face from the shadows,
The walking bomb. Sanjit found herself thinking of names for the guy that stood before her.
Destruct-o guy.
Tick-rock.

Though none of them seem to fit, Sanjit felt guilt over take her... Knowing that this person helped her, and all she can think about is names for his looks.

"Where am I?" Sanjit asked, looking at the stranger slightly panicked.

"At my mothers house, she is nurse. I thought maybe she could help." He replied, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

Did he always look this angry? Is what Sanjit wondered to herself. She took note of how some of his English was choppy, it was kind of funny.
Just then, in walks a rather short beautiful woman. This woman was tacky, no doubt about it, and funny looking. On the other hand, she seemed trustworthy.
She wore overalls, with a striped shirt underneath, and different colored striped socks. Her beautiful black hair was on the top of her head as a messy bun, and she wore beat up converse. She liked her style, despite its odd taste.

Blood stained the Womans jump suit, Sanjit hoped it was just hers. She wasn't too sure though, she felt the bile in her throat.

"Uhm... Is that my blood?" she ask hesitantly, causing the lady looks down at her denim overalls.

"Ah, yes it is child. You took big hit from men, Ja?" She said more than asked.

Sanjit nodded and felt the back of her head. She grunted in pain and the lady shook her head.

"You needed stitches, Don't touch. You hit head on your way down I presume. They really should fix roads out there," the woman complained.

"Ok, well thanks mrs.....?" "Illya. Though it's just miss, my husband is gone," Ms.Illya sighed.

" Oh I'm so sorry." Sanjit felt her body heat leave her, but Ms.Illya just waved it off.

" May I ask where you're from?" Sanjit questioned to shift the conversation.Ms.Illya smile is big and proud.

"Russia," she grins.

Sanjit smiled, "oh! Wonderful. I'm visiting there this summer," she informed.

Sanjit and Ms. Illya raved over Russia and where the best places are. Suddenly remembering she turned to her son.

  "What is your name?" She asks.

"Illya," he answered coldly.

Sanjit felt the shivers press against her skin, suddenly she felt to small for her body. But she still pressed on and attempted to be playful.

"Aah. Illya Illya." She smiled softly, knowing he had the same first name as his last.

"Well thanks to you... Both, "  She adds glancing at Illya and landing her eyes on Ms. Illya.