Untangling a Memory

For her country

She spun around the room, toes pointed and pinched in pink, satin shoes with ribbons lacing them to her ankles. Her arms gracefully outstretched above her head, as she moved lightly with the music of Tchaikovsky. It seemed as if her toes barely touched the ground as she leapt and glided around the hard wood floors. Constantly moving as her body performed Grand Jeté, Pirouette, Arabesque, Assemblé. She created incredibly linear fluid motions that seemed to pour her figure from one position to the next.

Once she'd finally completed her hours-long practice, her feet were badly bruised, toes bleeding, skin worn and blistered. She wrapped them best she could and placed them back into her shoes she had taken from another Black Widow who had "left the program." She wrapped herself in her sweater and walked in her tights back through the snow to her dormitory. She had little time to ready herself for her brief and scant meal before continuing lessons with the others. Every day was working on their English, continuing their hand-to-hand combat training, and practice with melee weapons and firearms.

She was the top of her class and she worked very hard to keep it that way. She was not about to risk falling towards the bottom and having her time as a Black Widow "ended." But she also tried hard to do the best for her country. She knew that once she graduated, she would be among their most elite, completing their most important and secretive work. Such a privilege to be able to serve the USSR in the highest capacity was not to be taken lightly, eliminating threats to it's place as the world's greatest superpower. She would become their best, among both the men and women, showing them that their investment in an orphan had been well worth all the years they had put into her. So, she continued to put in hours and hours and hours each day.

After over a decade of difficult training with the other girls under the direction of the teachers and trainers in the Red Room, Madame B brought in someone new.

"I would like you to meet..."

---

Natasha woke up out of breath, gasping for air. Her eyes were wide and she reached for her throat trying to catch her breath. She threw herself out of her bed and onto the floor, kneeling on the tile. Natasha finally took a breath and started coughing, her face red. She knelt there for a couple of minutes, trying to regulate the air coming in and out of her lungs again.

Once Natasha finally felt she had her body back under her control, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. She just stared at the water gushing into the sink. She had her hands on either side of the counter supporting her weight and she continued to just stare. She had been back there, all over again. Her whole body felt it, in her skin, under her skin. Natasha tried to focus on the water and bring herself back.

Finally, she took one hand, scooped up some of the water, and brought it to wash over her face. She did this over and over, taking a sip or two from her hand as she continued this repeated motion. Natasha did this for a couple of minutes, then finally took the hand towel next to the sink and dried off her skin gently. She didn't dare look up into the mirror. That was more than Natasha could handle in this moment.

Natasha walked back to her bedroom and pulled the sheet and blanket off her bed. She picked up her pillow and brought them all into the bathroom, setting them into the soaker tub. The tub had remained dry since Natasha arrived. Baths in the tub felt like baths in a basin and she would never do that again. But a soaker tub was the perfect place to wrap herself in all of her bedding as she lay awake and looked out the window for the rest of the night.

She wouldn't go back to sleep. That was too risky after the dream. (Nightmare? She wasn't sure what to call it.) Natasha would normally go for a walk, but she wouldn't risk running into Bucky. Though he was still holed up in his room, just the thought of running into him was too much for her to handle in this moment. And beds weren't safe. She was reminded of this now. Best to be in the tub, where she could be surrounded, hiding, trying to focus on looking out the window and distracting herself until morning came. A salvation from the demons that came at night.

Listen to: "Give You Back" - Vertical Horizon