Page 19 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

“Your grandmother is correct.” His dark accented voice sounds just as I remember. Menacing and at the same time bored. Only now it sounds a bit darker and a whole lot empty.

Mikhail.

I remember him vividly as if it was yesterday that he appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a rainstorm. After that day, I dedicated every day to becoming the merciless war my enemies will one day face. I knew at my age and size I could never win against Gabriele or his men but one thing I was absolutely certain of. I was a survivor and no one could take that from me. Not my father. Not his men.

Not even my father’s cruel words and painful fists.

Instead, I concentrated on becoming smarter and on keeping my sisters away from anything that hurts even if most days I’m not successful. I won’t give up. I won’t ever give up.

“You’ve changed.” I open my backpack, the same one I carry with me every time I come here and take out another set of tiny ceramic plates and a teacup. I doubt the man will sit down next to me and enjoy a cup of tea but I still place it down on the ground just in case.

Tiny needles prickle my skin when I listen as his boots crouch down the grass coming closer. A long moment of silence passes before he speaks and I smile. “Didn’t know you had eyes on the back of your head.”

“My eyes don’t need to see you to know you’ve changed.” I take a sip of the tea before setting it down on top of the ceramic plate. “There’s an energy around you and it feels different.”

“Is that so?” His voice sounds closer now and no longer bored.

Huh…

“Yes,” I replied.

“Might I ask how it feels?”

“You may,” I mumble and that’s when a tiny butterfly flies above me flapping its wings and I shoo it away with my hand. I hate bugs. Even pretty ones that make my baby sister smile. The only reason I tolerate them at home is because Mila loves them but Mila is not here and I’m too exhausted to pretend.

Pretend that all is okay.

Pretend that it doesn’t hurt.

Pretend that we’re not one punch or a strangle away from becoming another mafia tragic story.

I guess that’s why I come here on this day that most people would spend with their loved ones. Not me. I spent it here with my tea set and the dead.

I slowly climb to my feet, brushing my skirt back down as I rise to my full height, turn to him and the second my eyes fall on him I know exactly how he’s changed. It’s not only physical changes but there’s an air around him that wasn’t so strong before. It was like a dark cloud looming over him, now it’s like wrath wrapping him like a cloak. He seems even colder now if that’s even possible and more closed off too.

He stands in front of me dressed just like the last time in all black but instead of wearing a black dress shirt and slacks like before he’s wearing a three-piece suit like the ones my father wears. I almost snarl at how composed and tame he looks compared to the last time I saw him. I don’t like it but who cares what I want? Certainly not a man who owes me nothing.

That too has changed.

He looked older before, yes but there was a boyish charm under all that cold exterior. Now he has even more tattoos than before and there’s more stubble on his cheeks. What hasn’t changed is his larger-than-life presence and the way he can make me feel strong yet small at the same time with just one look at his blank stare. “It feels like you can suck the air out of an open space.” Not possible, I know this yet that’s exactly how it feels now looking at him. It’s like he’s stealing all the air for himself.

Mikhail just stares at me for a moment too long and I hate how it unnerves me. I don’t like the feeling. It makes me feel small and defenseless against him. His intense eyes leave mine and fall on the book that’s on the ground. “You like to read?”

I just shrug and follow his gaze to the opened book on the ground where I left it. “It helps pass the time.”

“Do you spend your time wishing for the time away?”

“I do.” I don’t hesitate to answer. I answer him with the truth even if it’s uncomfortable. I hate lies and I most certainly hate liars.

“You’re too young?—”

“What’s age got to do with it?” I snap while my eyes meet his. Pain and misery know no age. I much rather be a grown-up in pain than a weak kid who can’t even defend herself let alone her sisters. When I thought Mikhail would grow angry at my clear sign of disrespect and my pissy tone, he proved me wrong.

And then something happens. Something that rivals the glorious storm brewing in the sky.

Mikhail smiles and it’s not a grin like a year ago but a full-blown smile. One that makes my chest feel tight and my hands start to sweat. I can’t help but stare. I’ve seen people smile but aside from my sisters, I didn’t really care or feel anything.

I do…with him.

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