The Bad Girl and her Gang

I Dont Know Anymore

"Sara, what are you doing sleeping on the stairs? There's a bed you know and a couch, if I stunk so bad", she seemed sad, lol as if I'd leave her side from the flowery scent she emits.

Claire lifted my arm and my legs followed, trying to hide my feet and knees I pulled down my t shirt and maintained strong eye contact with her. That's the best way to avoid the other person looking elsewhere. My eyes felt heavy and my joints were aching. Shit.

"No haha Claire it wasn't you. I was waiting for Mike to get out of the kitchen so I could get some food out. Guess I fell asleep" I giggled it off and she observed me suspiciously.

"I didn't expect you to be scared of guys, Sara" she smiled and took my hand. It was morning, a new day. I didn't have to worry about work because I was fired a week ago for going all legal on a groping customer. My brothers were going to fly from Russia and "burn the mf alive". Vladimir' threat obviously.

I chuckled remembering their voices. Screaming so loudly, the neighbours could hear them light their pitchforks and break my poor ear drums. My sweet brothers.

"Girls, I made omelettes. There's orange juice, milk and fruits", he was stirring the eggs on the preheated pan. Using a droplet of oil. His grey T shirt was hanging out, exposing a little of his back. He left the kitchen window open, allowing the cold breeze to bring fresh crisp air to the house. The heaters were suffocating.

In Russia we would huddle around the fire when it got too cold. Marat and I would watch the flickering fire and imagine what stories it was trying to tell us, about the future and the past. In one blanket 4 little kids gathered like penguins, the boys would start making up stories about the Loch Ness monster and princesses who were quiet and obedient unlike me.

My mama was a quiet and solemnly good person. She aided others and fed the poor children around our district in secret. Father thought it was a waste of food and we already didn't have enough. But she always halved her portion to save for others. When I found out I began to do the same. It was our bonding time, feeding the poor on empty stomachs.

She would always give it to them with a smile, she taught me: "It's better to help others, because that's what God remembers."

My mama would make us warm pumpkin soup with crunchy on the outside but fluffy on the inside bread. Me and Marat always sat together. We were inseparable. When we grew up, the boys in our town... my cousin Abel in particular was weird and stuck to our family like glue. Marat got into a fight with him after Abel asked for my hand when I was 15, he was 19. Abel gave me my first taste at anxiety and fear. It wasn't the fear my father produced. Something more larger.

"Hello! Sara you listening?" Claire shook my arm, seated on the chairs I looked at her confusingly. With a bowl of cereal in front of me, it turned soggy.

"What part of Russia did you say you were from?" She looked like she repeated the question. Hair blonde hair in a side platt as she ate her omelette with a fork, his omelette.

"Karatayka its close to the ocean and above Russia, like on the top right side of a crown", I answered playing with my spoon. I tied my hair up. I gasped silently at the pain reaching my throat, falling down to my heart causing an ache. I want to go home.

You need to be strong Sara. Stop being so frikin weak.

"Hey, here's a question. Mikhail how do you speak such good English if you're Russian. I mean Sara came here when she was 16.."

Why would you tell him that Claire.
Now he knows I ran away from Russia. What if he strikes a deal with Vladimir to force me home?
I swallowed. Breathe Sara.

"Oh I um, I waz born in Russia and spend my childhood there. I return every year for few months so my accent iz strong, like Sara's attitude" he smiled, taking off his apron.
"I lived in Canada for the time I wasn't in Moscow so I learnt well" Mikhail added.

"Can I please use the pan Mike", I said ever so sweetly.
"Pochemu?" He asked why. His eyebrow raised.
"Haha so I can whack you with it for provocation" I smiled brightly biting the inside of my cheek.

After having a glass of milk I walked out the door, waving to Claire. Only I had school today so I walked alone in the snow with my timberlands and brown coat. It was a gift from Vladimir on my 17th. 'To keep my mladshaya sestra warm'. I smiled as I buttoned the coat.

I'm warm brother.

I didn't feel the need to get hot chocolate anymore. Suddenly Mike ruined hot chocolate, snow and flirting in a series of a couple of hours. I let out a sigh ready to do Criminology.
I felt a bump on my shoulder and payed attention to it;

"Hey, you"

"Jack, hey. Class I see. Two coffees?" I asked. He smiled gently and looked at his shoes for a brief moment. Accompanying me, wearing a brown knitted beanie, maroon coat and black boots.
"Nah it's hot chocolate. I don't like coffee. Here this ones for you. I didn't know what milk you get or if you're some psycho vegan. But yea hot chocolate."
"Not a vegan. A psycho...well I can't promise anything" I bring the hot chocolate to my lips and taste it.

"Jack, you'd make an awesome teddy bear" I giggled. His jaw dropped in a sarcastic way. "You dare insult me peasant?! I'm a grizzle bear. You're the cute little bear people find tripping over her own feet." I laughed so hard I almost fell down. Wow he got it right, I do trip on my own feet/legs whatever.

"Okay psychic, why arts?" I asked taking huge gulp at the free hot chocolate.
"Why law, Lyakov?" He replied grinning.
"Noted." He doesn't want to say, same as me. Was his reason as serious as mine?

We reached the white shiny door to class and he waited for me to go in first. Okay is it just me or is he a mega gentlemen? I doubt he wants to sleep with me... please no, Lord.

"Hey um Sara. There's this new food joint up at Maxwell street, my sister said they have amazing steak and mash potatoes. I wanted to go but she's in the UK and I don't want to go alone. Would you join me?" He didn't look like the kind of person who liked people. I used my hair to deflect people and he used his height and broad shoulders.
He didn't have friends that I knew of for sure.

"Yea sure. Bribes me with hot chocolate asks me on a date. Spectacular", he chuckled and rubbed his hair. Anatoly had the smoothest and nicest hair of the boys. Often when he was asleep, me and Marat would comment and describe how soft his hair was.

"As soft as..as soft as a woman's skin"
"Marat that's just stupid. As soft as melted marshmallows and silky cream", I'd lick my lips from hunger.
Marat grunted. "As soft as a baby's skin" he'd grin thinking he out done me.
"Get over skin, Marat".
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Being rich (or good looking) doesn't save you from pain- Caleb Lockhart "Chasing Red"