Page 2 of One of Them

What was she saying? Who was she speaking to? She couldn’t make out the words. Not because of the distance, but because they were foreign to her ears.

The space felt suffocating, her eyes blinking rapidly in rhythm with her pulse. Despite everything, she obediently waited until her body couldn’t stay still anymore.

Worst-case scenarios flooded her mind. Her imagination had a tendency to wander far beyond any sane limit.

Her mom was out there, on her own.

The thought struck her, bringing a wave of panic. For the first time, she felt utterly alone, completely separated from the constant of her life. The situation was so unnatural, she could hardly stand the thought of it. Tonight forced her to confront feelings she never knew existed, and the one person who could calm the unknown was nowhere near.

Before another thought poisoned her mind with worry, she pushed the red button and crawled out on all fours, ignoring everything her mom had taught her. There would be time for forgiveness later.

On silent feet, she crept toward the top of the staircase. That’s when she heard it. A gunshot. Her first time hearing one quickly became her second.

A loud thump reached her ears before the house fell silent. Gone were the voices, her mother’s included.

Over the wooden railing, the child peeked downstairs, where her mother stood above two unmoving bodies, men lying face down in the hallway.

Smoke was rising from the weapon her mother still held. The image seared into her mind, raising immediate alarms. She knew that the dangerous object her mother gripped had always been locked away in the first drawer of the cabinet, never making an appearance.

Instinctively, the girl ran toward the woman she loved so deeply, but up close, her eyes were distant, unfamiliar, as they stared down at the intruders. With an outstretched hand, she called for her mother’s attention, feeling a rush of relief when her eyes immediately softened at the sight. But instead of warmth, they started to glisten.

Before she could speak, her mother wiped away the evidence with the back of her palm. Her focus returned to her daughter as she said, “Listen to me, Taya. There is much you don’t know, but it will all make sense. I promise. We don’t have time. This is where we part,kotyonok.”

Words weren’t registering, even when she listened closely. Part ways?

“Mom, what’s happening?” The girl frantically clung to her mother’s arms, pleading. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s a blue backpack under the staircase. Get it.”

Her attention was quickly diverted by the instructions. She didn’t dare to look around, walking a straight line to the closet. Once it was in her hands, she wondered whose it was. It wasn’t theirs. She knew this house inside and out.

When she returned, her mother grabbed the backpack and strapped it onto her back.

“Everything you need is in here.”

The girl’s hands shot to the straps, gripping them in a deadly hold, as if her mother had just given her a parachute before she was pushed into the unknown.

A kiss to both cheeks stopped the tears from falling, offering the familiar comfort of a loving touch, a comfort only a mother could give. The same touch she had grown up with.

“Go where life takes you and never forget where you came from. You hear me?” Mother’s words stirred up a whirlwind of emotions. The girl bit the inside of her cheek, holding the storm at bay for just a little longer.

“I wish I could explain. Just stay strong and don’t let them find out.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, unchecked now, betraying the state of her mind. The girl wished nothing more than to stop time or even reverse it to return to the only normal she had ever known.

“I love you so much. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

In her mother’s embrace, she soaked in the feeling of safety and home. And when the moment reached its expiry, clearing her throat, she asked the painful question, “Mom, where are you going?”

“We’ll see each other again. Go out the back door. A taxi will be waiting. Don’t be scared. All will be well.”

That was the last time the girl saw her mother. The last words a loved one would speak to her.

Life had taught her its first lesson: the people who claimed to love you might’ve been the ones lying all along.

Taya’s life would never be the same after she looked inside the backpack. As the house she grew up in faded away, the bubble she had lived within shattered into a million broken pieces.

Pieces she didn’t bother to pick up, for it wasn’t repairable.

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