Nadia found herself yet again sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness.
With her father, Cranos, dying and being underage herself she had to move from Russia to America to live with her Biological Mom who abandoned her with Cranos when she was l...
The sun shines right in my face but a figure blocks it. I groan, rolling on my back rubbing my eyes. I'm Nadia by the way, born and raised In Russia by my father who recently died. He was killed in a drive by shooting, he didn't make it sadly. I was forced to move in with my mom a little while after he was killed because I'm not old enough to live by myself since I'm only 17. "You gotta get up, you have school Nadia." And that is one of my step dads. I have a thick Russian accent to be exact. "I'm up!" I growl. "Your mom has work so me and Artem will drive you to school and pick you up for now." "Okay." I sigh. "Get up Nadia!" He growls pulling the covers off of my body almost fully covered in tattoos like his. "I'm up asshole!" I lean up, sighing. I glance out the window in front of me thinking about my dad. He was my everything. He rolls his eyes and walks out of my bedroom. I hate him especially. He's mean and ruder then Artem. While Artem is nice and charming to me. I get up and get dressed, while shredding a couple tears out of my swollen red eyes from crying. I just met my mother--Martha--4 damn months ago. I've been in America for four months now and it's official to say I hate it here. I want to go back to Russia and pretend my dad never died. I want to rewind my life when my dad was alive, just to make the best of it. My mom abandoned me when I was born. She got up and left as soon as she could. "You ready to go?" Artem smiles at me as I walk down the staircase wearing a Nike short sleeve shirt and black Nike leggings. I know I have a lot of tattoos, but I love them all since they demonstrate a certain part in my life. Each one tells a whole different story, the ink shapes me into who I am today. I never wore a short sleeve shirt around them before in the four months I've been here honestly. They never seen the tattoos on my body other then my hands, and neck. "Jesus." Artem chuckles, with his eyes roaming my nearly perfect sleeves of ink. "What?" I chuckle walking straight past him. "I didn't think you had that many." "I have more than what is showing," "wow." He laughs a little bit as I giggle, walking into the kitchen and boy am I greeted with snarky glare. Martha stares at my arms with her nose scrunching up in disgust. "You're 17 not 18!" "And I am my own person Martha, deal with it." I smile grabbing a piece of toast. "I don't like them." "Well... Martha that's tuff." "Cover them up." "Nah." I smirk, slightly biting into my toast. "You'd look pretty without them." "I'm just glad I look nothing like your ass.. and exactly like my father." "Excuse you?" "yebat' tebya YA ne sobirayus' opravdat' vashi ozhidaniya, kogda u menya yest' svoi!!" I yell in Russian, sighing as she slowly started to piss off. "You do realize I speak Russian right, Nadia?" Martha smiles, tilting her head to the side cocking it. I wish I had a gun right now so I can blow her brains all over these damn walls. "Yes, Martha! In fact I do. I know everything about you honey, whether you like it or not." "What in the world are you talking about?" "My dad... Y'know? Your ex husband..? Cranos? Well he taught me everything about you, and everything I know right now." I chuckle, cocking my head to the side like she did hers. Artem and Ivan join us as they jogged down the stairs after fetching their jackets. It was a little chilly outside, cold weather never ever bothers me, so I'm good. "We should get going." Ivan says, pressing his lips into a straight line bringing a spliff to his lips lighting it. "Honey, wait a second. I'm talking to Nadia." "Okay." Ivan takes a large inhale of the cigar, and blowing it out closing his eyes like it was drugs helping him calm down and accomplish more in his damn life. They both walk over and sit on the barstools, Ivan nearly chokes me with the smoke of his panatela. "How'd your dad die, Nadia?" Martha asks. Oh boy was she testing me at this point. "What the actual hell? Why on earth would you want to know?" "Because I care about him." She admits, sighing. "Honey, it's not like his ghost can even hear you. I'm pretty sure he's in hell now paying for all of his deadly sins god never forgave him for." I chuckle, rolling my eyes quickly so they wouldn't notice. "Drive by shooting, I got shot too.. paramedics arrived and performed CPR on him but it was too late. On the other hand, they rushed me to the hospital and thank god stopped the bleeding, So I'm left with the three scars from where the three bullets were in my body." I finally say how he died. "I'm so sorry Nadia." "Question?" "Ask away sweetheart." She smiles. "Why'd you leave?" I ask coldly. "Honey, that was years ago. You should be over this by now." She says, placing her hand on mine. I look at her hand on mine. Touching my fucking hand too! I have a huge ass problem with people I don't like or anyone in general touching my body or even just my hand without my consent. I jerk my hand away from hers, as quick as I could. "But you still left him leaving him alone to raise a child." I was trouble awaiting to occur when I was a baby, man was I a nightmare for my dad. "I p-panicked.. okay? Can I ask you something?" "Shoot." I sigh as I finished the toast, which was delicious by the way. "Why do you have so many tattoos?" "Because." "Why though? And why all the piercings, honey?" "Because I like the pain." "What pain?" "Getting hurt." "Why would you want to get hurt, Nadia?" I sigh louder than I anticipated. "You're not a Mikhailova, you wouldn't understand." I admit pressing my lips into a thin line, like Ivan did a little earlier. "I know your father like the back of my hand." "Knew. You knew my father." I suppress a growl, making her shiver slightly. "But why all the tattoos, Nadia?" "I wanted them." "You're covered in them," "And?" "Look.. things are gonna be better around here unlike shit with your stupid father." My stupid father? My stupid father? My stupid father? My stupid father? "I heard enough." I lean off the kitchen island. "Don't talk back to me." "I'm not, And never speak like that about Cranos around me. Or you'll regret." "Did you just threaten your mother?" "No, No I didn't threaten you. I made you a fucking promise. And Mikhailova's never break fucking promises." "You are just like your father!" "That is exactly what I was yearning for." I smile, flakily. "Watch your mouth, Nadia." "Talk shit about my father again, I'll do more damage to you then what I just did to your feelings." I smirk, backing up from the counter. "Whatever." She groans, rolling her eyes crossing her arms as Ivan and Artem got up and followed me outside, I look for other ways other than the gate out of this 'Estate'. "You can't just leave." Artem chuckles. "Well.. I hate it here." "You're not going back to Russia, Nadia." Ivan sighs getting in the car, I get in the backseat. "Watch me." "I'd like to see you try." Artem snickers as he starts driving. "I turn 18 in a month, I'm dropping out of high school and I'm moving out of this shitty place back to Russia and staying there with my real friends and family.. for the rest of my life." "Whatever you say cupcake." "What's cupcake?" I ask teasing Ivan, he didn't seem to realize I was playing though. "It's like a cake but smaller, you don't speak very fluent English do you?" I snort at Ivan and smile, I was just kidding. I knew what a cupcake was. "I'm just playing with you." "Whatever Nadia." He rolls his eyes as I snicker.
