The Crime of the Widow

45|. I am Home

MARINA STOOD IN front of the window, viewing her garden she loved so much, holding a basket in her arms. She watched as bees carried pollen from one flower then to another. Her garden was so colorful that she was still amazed at how beautiful it was. She was amazed that she was able to create something beautiful. That she worked hard for something she wanted. She felt human.

Her green eyes flickered over to the basket, full of her clothes and James', resting on her hip. When she finally was able to do normal things, she found what she loved and hated. She loved baking/cooking, gardening, reading, watching tv and playing video games, and even cleaning everything except for the dishes occasionally. She hated, however, clewing the bathroom, mowing the grass, and doing laundry.

With a heavy sigh, Marina walked over to her laundry room and started a load of laundry. It took a while for her to understand how much detergent to use. She even went to Mrs. Livingston for help when she couldn't figured out. Fill it to line four. She said to herself. After doing so, she made her way out of the laundry room and into the dark kitchen, the only light illuminating the room was the one under the cabinets.

She immediately set her eyes on the dirty dishes in the sink. She walked over, started the water, and dove her hands into the mess.

Her hands wiped the gooey substance off of the glass plate after drenching it with soap and water. The water felt cleansing underneath her hoarse and dry skin, it felt calming. Even though many people dreaded washing dishes, she loved to. She loved the feeling of water, watching the oceans water crash onto the sand or even the salty taste of it.

Something felt off. Like how the air felt different or something sounded different. She heard tiny whimpers. Marina turned around with a pan in her hand, fully ready to smack the heck out of the intruder but she melted with what she saw.

Her blonde frizzy hair was braided into Dutch braids, making a crown around her head. Her soft green eyes searched the house, every single crack. She had on a black suit that looked a little too tight on her. And she hadn't changed a bit. Marina gulped at the sight of her younger sister.

Yelena.

They were in the same house as they were over two decades ago and the nostalgia was very high. Marina didn't know what to do as they stood in silence. She didn't know whether to run to her and hug her, offer her a drink, or just ignore everything all together. She didn't even know what to say. Luckily, Yelena said something before Marina could even do a thing.

"Y-your alive?" She asked as her voice cracked at every syllable. "I saw you die. I saw you crash. You were dead. You were dead." She said as if she was trying to convince herself something.

Then silence engulfed the two. Marina watched as many emotions flashed throughout her younger sisters face. The face she had longed to see everyday but knew it was a risk for both her and herself. The face that she use to see every day during her three year stay in Ohio. The face she wanted to see when she was held captive. The face that HYDRA made her forget.

Then Marina thought back to how cruel her life was. Again, the jealous feeling started to swarm in her. She was jealous of other families and how normal they were. How the girls got to grow up without a problem and get on with their lives without having to look back every single time that they do. She was jealous she didn't get that life.

She was also jealous that her older sister got everything, her younger sister got nothing, and how she was stuck in between the two. She got and has everything and nothing at the same time. Then Marina thought how cruel life was for Yelena. More cruel then her own life. She had to go through everything the same way that every widow had to go through, probably even worse.