Chapter 1
July 15th, 1990
Moscow, Soviet Union.
I’m running as quickly as I can through the many twists and turns in this big city. It rained yesterday, obvious by the large water puddles still visible on the ground. The kids chasing me are screaming loudly, shouting horrible words at me. I look back for a second and see that several of them are holding large sticks in their hands – their intentions clear. If they catch me, I will be beaten up horribly.
My lungs start to burn and my legs are shaking from the strain of running for so long. But I can’t stop. Whether by fate or just pure luck, I spot a bus stopping and opening both its front and back doors. I make a quick turn and enter through the back doors quickly and sigh in relief when they close shortly after. I sneak inside carefully and find an empty seat next to an elderly lady. I sit down slowly and don’t miss the disapproving look she gives me.
I look out the window and see the kids that had just been chasing me not a minute ago looking around wildly, trying to spot me – and they do. They start running toward the bus but to my luck, it
starts moving and the kids stop chasing it, too tired and slow to catch up with it. I let out a deep breath of relief and close my eyes for a second.
”Wake up, boy!” I feel a hard shake wake me up from my one-second nap. My eyes snap open and meet the bus chauffeur’s eyes, looking at me with disapproval as well. ”Have you paid for a bus ticket?”
I look around and notice everyone on the bus staring at me, many with the same eyes as the older lady but some of them have the decency to show me some pity. I feel another shake, stronger this time, and I’m forced to look up and meet his eyes.
”Well?” he says, his hold tightening on my ragged shirt. I’m about to shake my head when I hear a woman.
”Poor boy can’t be older than four or five,” I look at the older lady beside me but find no empathy in her eyes. Another voice speaks up suddenly.
”Probably one of the street children who thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he’s poor,” I look quickly to my right at the man sitting across me but his mouth isn’t moving. The bus chauffeur is shaking me but I can’t concentrate on him because suddenly several voices are speaking, all at the same time.
”I feel sorry for him, but he should learn his lesson,”
”Just throw him out! I’m going to be late for work!”
”Just let him ride this one time, poor boy,”
”Come on, hurry!”
I look around wildly. Where are all these voices coming from? Their mouths aren’t moving. How can I hear them speak if their mouths aren’t moving?
”Hurry!”
”Throw him out!”
”Just drive the damn bus!”
”I wish all these orphans would just disappear or even better, die!”
My head is hurting! I put my hands on my face and squeeze.
”Buy a bus ticket or I will throw you out!” The bus chauffeur yells at me, shaking me harshly but his voice seems far away in contrast to all the other voices that seem to be coming from...inside my head…
”No,” I whimper.
”What did you say?” I hear his voice but it’s drifting away while all the other voices are getting louder and louder. I can’t take it anymore! It’s too loud!
”No!” I yell, my body shaking. They’re looking at me, confused now, and a little frightened. But the voices aren’t stopping. They’re getting louder! Make it stop, please!
”Please!” I yell, shaking my head. ”Make it stop!”
And suddenly – it does.
My eyes open slowly. The first thing I see is blood. I gasp harshly and let out a screech when I see the sight before me. The bus that was just moments ago filled with people, is now filled with corpses. Mutilated, bloody, and disfigured people. I give off a pathetic whimper and fall from the seat. The elderly lady that had been sitting next to me...her head...is no more.
The sight of it all, along with this burning headache proves to be too much and I vomit what little food I have inside me on the dirty floor. The tears come along with the sour taste in my throat. All the bodies on the bus have been mutilated somehow, but how?
The loud sirens coming my way give me a sense of panic. I have to escape but the bus doors are closed and can only be opened by the chauffeur who is laying dead on the bloodied floor. The police are quick to open the door with their weapons and armor and they find me sitting here, between all the dead people.
The look on their face tells it all. The disgust, horror, and most of all, shock. Everything happens quickly and I am taken to what I assume to be a police station. I sit awkwardly with a large blanket draped over my narrow shoulders. The policemen are arguing and I can barely understand what they’re saying but I can see the panic on their faces.
And that’s when I see him.
He’s tall and is wearing a nice suit. He talks to the policemen who seem to be confused but ultimately give him a nod. He walks toward me in wide steps and extends his hand to me.
”Let’s go home,” he says with a gentle smile. I feel confused but as long as I get to leave then fine by me.
I put my hand in his and leave my faith in his hands…
