C.N.P.P.

Chapter II

"I'm going and I won't stop just because of you," yelled Vlad with hysteria in his voice "and if you want to be a lunatic, you can stay here." Then he stormed off without a word.

After wandering through the forest, he saw a dirt road with a lying bike on it. He thought about Yuri for a moment, then sat on the bike regretting his decision. He rode in what seemed like circles. After 5 laps, he got off and decided to go back to Yuri. He looked at the sky, it was already sunset. When he got to the place where Yuri was "camping", it was deserted. Yuri was gone.

He rode back to Pripyat hoping to find his family and his friends. When he got to his home, nobody was there. He let a tear. Then he heard footsteps. He turned around, hoping to see his mom, and saw a soldier.

"Sir," said Vlad, "where are all of the people?"

"They were evacuated to the nearest train station" replied the soldier.

"Can you please take me there?"

"Sure, get in the UAZ"

When he stepped in the car, he felt hope to appear inside of him.

Then they got to the train station he saw his mom, a tall, blonde woman with long legs and a beautiful face. He ran towards her and hugged her with tears in his eyes.

"Vlad, where have you been, I was worried," said his mom.

"I got lost in the crowd" he lied.

They got on the train. There was an announcement on the train intercom that said, "Next stop, St. Petersburg."

"I hope I get to see Yuri again," said Vlad.

Then they departed off to St. Petersburg.

When they arrived, the incident was all over the news. TVs, newspapers, journals, and other media reported the Chernobyl incident. They showed pictures of this tragic event. These pictures included bodies of dead workers, sick people, and what's left of the 4th reactor of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. Vlad recognized one of the bodies to be his dad. He was filled with grief. He was in denial that his dad was dead. All he wanted to do was to scream. He missed his home. He missed dad. He missed his friends. He soon got used to the constant showers and cold of St. Petersburg and got over his grief. He understood that there is no point in keeping everything in himself.

2 years later

Vlad opens the door to be greeted by the mailman.

"A letter for Vladislav Kutuzov" said the mailman.

"Thank you," said Vlad looking confused at the letter. It was from a mysterious writer. It didn't say the name of the person who wrote it. It just said, "To Vladislav Kutuzov, House 42, Apartment 16, St. Petersburg."

He opened the letter to see what was written in it.

"Dear Vlad, I'm so glad you're alive and well. I wish you all the best in the world and hope to see you again."

"Who wrote that letter," thought Vlad. The handwriting seemed familiar. It felt like the person who wrote this knew him.

After 2 weeks of trying to find out who it was, he gave up and put the letter somewhere safe**.