Her life is crazy. Ups downs sideways and diagonals. Life throws everything at her, and she has to work through it. Her two constants, her true love, Steven grant rogers and her best friend/ sister, Ava Johansson. This trio has been through more tha...
I leant back against the counter, not wanting to do anything. I felt, blank. Like I had been drawn on a blackboard and someone had erased me.
Steve appeared in the doorway.
"Come say goodbye lovie" when I didnt move, he held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me down the hall to the front door where Rylie had a bag of Avery's things ready to go. Avery was half asleep on her shoulder. She perked up when she saw me, leaning out of her mothers hands and reaching out for me. I looked to Rylie and she nodded.
I scooped her up and cuddled her close while Rylie took the bag out to the car. I savoured the comforting weight of her in my arms.
"I love you baby girl" I whispered to her she looked up at me with those big blue eyes. As she looked at me I memorised every last fleck of colour in them, never wanting to forget.
"Baby 'irl," she pointed to her chest "love mama" she pointed to my chest. She nuzzled back down into my neck. I memorised her voice, the youngness to it, the forgotten letters and the hours spent talking about wonderpets.
"....mama loves you" Rylie walked back inside and smiled at us, water dripping from her curls. I walked out to the car to put Avery in her car seat. I kissed her nose and smiled as I buckled her in. Once I was sure she was secure I gave her one last Eskimo kiss and stood back.
"I will never forget you darling" i pushed a stray hair out of her face and Happy pushed the door closed as Rylie got in beside Avery. Happy started the car and took off down the drive. I walked over to a small bench and sat quietly, while rain pattered down around me.
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I didn't care anymore. My mind went blank, swish swish swish. Wiping away any thoughts. My subconscious panicked, not knowing what was happening. Old training kicked in, old training I had tried to forget. Things were shoved in boxes, locked away pushed back, back, back. Out of the way.
Dust filled the room in my mind, dancing in the air, rays of fluorescent light making them shimmer slightly.
Before the dust had settled, a singular word was scrawled across it, in large blocky letters, letters that forced pictures into my mind. Pictures of Russian commands littered across walls, memories of the painful sting of a whip when they weren't followed. The crack as it was brought through the air.
The word, written so big, underlined three times, танцевать
