Hurt- Yelena Belova

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"We've been here for so long already, but it's still the shittiest place on earth." I grumble, throwing my bag to one side of the room, plopping down on the sofa.

My older sibling looks at me with a worried look.

Ever since Natasha passed away, I've been cranky and all, mourning, but never cussing.

"Is everything all right at school?" Yelena asks, making me look up at my older sister.

Her thick accent coats her words perfectly, giving off her strong russian words.

My throat seals shut, tears coming into my eyes. I shake my head slowly, letting the tears slip past my lids, down my cheeks.

I sniffle, letting out a sob.

Yelena immediately takes me into her arms, hugging me.

We both just stay there, not moving, not daring to move.

After a while, she pulls back and puts a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"What happened? Was it one of those kids? I swear I will kill them-"

"No. It wasn't them." I cry, wiping my tears off with my sleeve.

My breathing trembles as I try to speak.

"Shh, slowly. Breathe in, and out. Don't rush it."

I try to balance my breathing again before I start.

"Well, it happened during History class..."

~~flashback~~

I walk down the hall to my history classroom, expecting yet another boring class where we talk about ww2.

It's not a boring subject, wars can be interesting to examine, but the teacher.

Oh god the teacher.

He just doesn't accept other opinions. Ever.

And when he learns something new, it's that way he heard it the first time. No matter if it's actually totally wrong.

He's arrogant and stubborn. There's no way you can change his mind on anything.

I get into the classroom and soon the class starts, the bell ringing.

"All right. Today we will be talking about one of our favorite Avenger! I will tell you about the Red Room, the academy that Black Widow went to."

"Academy?" I blurt out, not being able to hold it in.

Everyone looks at me.

"Yes. Academy. Do you have something against it? Or would you perhaps like to tell us yourself? I hear you were sent there too? Tell me, was it fun? Did you learn how to dance and sing?"

Tears well up in my eyes.

"N- no."

"That's what I thought. Just because you went there doesn't mean you know anything about Black Widow. Wasn't she a friend of yours?"

"s- sister." I mumble.

"Excuse me? Speak more clearly, please."

"She was my sister."

The teacher starts laughing, but the rest of the class is silent. They know Natasha was my sister. We grew up together, lived most of my life together.

"Sister! Well that's a new one! Natasha Romanoff had no family!" he says loudly.

A tear flows down my cheek.

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