The Thorns of Our Own

Chapter one : The thorns beneath the rose

"No one wants to be the main character in a tragedy. Everyone sighs in relief when they watch from their safe space. No matter how many flowers of empathy you might throw for the victim , you'll never feel the same."

                                                                                        X

I used to love the hot season. That certain moment between the end of spring and beginning of summer , when I used to sneak away from my household chores and spend the rest of the day wandering through the woods. Not even hunger nor exhaustion could've convince me to show up in front of my parents before the wolves would've started howling at the moon.

At least whenever i would've returned home , I used to be too numb to feel any sort of punishment. I used to fall asleep with a smile on my face , despite the fatigue , hunger or poverty.

If someone would look at me now , it would never believe me. Not even a second. After all , no one knows the thorns beneath this rose.

                                                                                       X

Despite the commendable size of my house , I've never had someone I could share it with. Also , despite the large family I was raised in , none of my brothers have passed my threshold.

Nikolai , Yana and Alexei.

I don't enjoy spelling their names very often but they remain my brothers still. At least , they don't stain our blood bond too much. In fact , that didn't make me search for them in the end. After all that happened , I don't believe it would be the wisest decision.

In the summertime , we used to run together. Me and Nikolai at least. Yana and Alexei just turned 12 years old and our mother was watching over them strictly. She used to be sharper than a hen around her babies. Yet , Nikolai and I were too old for it. He was 20 and I was just getting closer to 18 when fate decided that summer night was about to be unforgettable.

After I was done with feeding the animals and cleaning up around the house , Nikolai had just arrived back home from his adventures in the famous city. He was a man already and we all supported him to abandon the village life over a better one in the city. We wished for him a life of independence and prosperity.

But my brother hadn't succeeded yet. He kept promising that things will turn differently soon , that he needed just a few more money.

Our father listened to his cries. Hell , the old man was selling the chickens behind our mother's back just to purchase new clothes for Nikolai.

Our big brother was walking proudly among the intellectuals while we were digging our feet in the garden's mud.

So that day was just as the other  ones.

"Come on , Aya. Don't pout at me like this. Look , I haven't forgotten about you." he used to bribe me pulling a half melt ice cream out of his pocket.

"Come! Let's run together in the forest and pick flowers for mom." he asked on that summer day , when Yana and Alexei were still playing around our mom and dad was out doing his usual work.

Back then , I was ready to sacrifice everything to be free and the ice cream wasn't that bad after all. I grabbed his hand and we ran in the forest , at the end of the village. There , the most beautiful flowers used to grow and I was convinced of how gorgeous they would look in a vase in our tiny kitchen.

In the same day , at sunset , Nikolai confessed his failure to me. He couldn't find a job and he kept hoping that he will get all the spent money back by playing his luck at gambling.

Then , I couldn't grasp the reality of his words and how serious things were. Our family already sold most of the valuables for Nikolai's awaited success but the hope was the only thing shining anymore.

We grabbed the flowers and made our way back home , hand in hand.

                                                                                                 X

Luckily , we reached the rusty incomplete gate right when the rest of our family gathered outside the house around a small table.

I can almost feel the bitter taste on my tongue I've felt when I noticed their sad faces.

"Who died? Did Alexei leave the dog in your seedlings again , mother?"  I kept asking them cheerfully , unaware back then of the moment when the roles of this tragedy have been decided.

Silence. Like a play , everyone swore to keep the silence. I turned my head back at Nikolai who , somehow , joined the choir of quiet souls.

"What's going on?!"

I begged confused.

One.

One single sinner had the courage to break the silence.

And that was my father. By his pain and guilt scarred face , he convicted my fate.

"You've been purchased."