Second chapter of the story.
Audio at the bottom.
First Chapter
https://steemit.com/writing/@ralph.clayton/child-from-siberia-first-chapter-monday-fiction
Chapter {2}
{The Iron Thug}
Two years later in the city of Irkutsk, in a dirty back-alley near the center. There lies a boy on the floor, beaten and bleeding. Heavy rain pours down as if the sky weeps for Dima, just another unfortunate boy from an unknown village in the desolate land of Siberia. He’s been busy this past few months, working for Vasily as a lowly thug. Dima is part of a smalltime racketing business in a vegetable market near the center.
Today is not a lucky day for Dima, he’s been ambushed by a rival gang. He’s been beaten with oxidized iron bars and rusty old knuckle-busters. The wild punches flashed on his face, one after the other. As each punch struck him on the face he would feel a devious little sensation of freedom. Perhaps he will finally die and be released, once and for all from this unending constant torture. This unjust and wretched life is just not for him. Poor Dima the lowly village thug.
There he lies on the floor, painfully bleeding and slowly fading away in to nothing. People pass by and briefly gaze at him in contempt and disgust, all they see is a wild animal dying. A police officer comes by, he pokes him with his baton and then he checks his pockets. Nothing of interest, not even loose change in his empty pockets. Pathetic indeed.
“Filthy rat.” The police officer says, and then he continues walking down the alley.
Raindrops fall on Dima’s bloody face as he looks up in to the sky with his daunting green eyes. There is still a brutish sparkle in there, a very dim light of hope. Does he really want to die? Or perhaps he’s ready, for more of the usual unending torment. Maybe pain is just his thing.
His eyes slowly shut close, light turns in to darkness. His body becomes numb, he feels the pain slowly fading away. A warm calming sensation in his entrails guide him in to the void. He’s holding something in his hand, it’s a black and white picture.
“Mother, why did you leave me?”
His last remaining strength slowly fades in to nothing, slipping out of his body. He loses his handgrip, and the picture falls out of his hand in to the wet floor. A tragedy in motion of a poor child with no hope nor future, a victim of miscalculated choices. Yet, there is still a sparkle in his eyes.
Nothing, is what he must become. Because he is nothing.
Dima is unconscious and completely unaware of what’s happening around him. In the distance some footsteps on the wet floor can be heard. The noise slowly becomes louder as it approaches his shivering cold body.
“Oh dear, but what a poor soul.” An old woman says.
It’s Mother Sveta from the orphanage. She walks through these alleys everyday on the way to the market. She buys fresh vegetables to make soup for the children that she dearly takes care of. Her kindness and compassion has no limits. It’s a miracle, perhaps even destiny that she’s found Dima.
“I will take you home, my poor boy.” Mother Sveta says.
Dima is partially unconscious, not awake and not asleep. His body is numb, he feels like he’s floating in limbo. All those little moments of happiness, when he swum in Lake Baikal during the blazing hot summer. This feels quite similar, no pain, only a warm floaty feeling of nothingness. He likes this, a scape straight out of his sorrowful reality.
“Mother, I need you.”
He sees a dream, he’s floating on the surface of Lake Baikal. His mother is laughing and playing with him. She holds him in his arms as she swims with him. The summer sun shines bright, the water is warm and he is happy. This is one of the happiest memories that Dima has, a beautiful precious moment in his miserable existence.
Dima is unconscious, he’s being taken to a room in the orphanage. Mother Sveta and the other sisters will do their best to revive the unfortunate street-boy. Dima’s face has cuts and bruises all around, small drops of blood coming out of his wounds, stain the white sheets in his bed. He sees a bright light, perhaps he’s dying. It’s all a dream, his suffering is not over yet, it’s just beginning.
Three days later, Dima wakes up in a big and comfortable bed. The room looks very clean and simple, nothing compared to his old shack in the village. The walls are very white, there are two big glass windows and some yellowish curtains hang on them. Dima doesn’t understand what’s happening. Perhaps he really died and this is heaven?
“What is this place?” He says.
He tries to sit, but his whole body hurts because he was brutally beaten by unscrupulous thugs. His whole head is wrapped with bloody bandages, his bright green eyes are barely visible. He makes an effort to stand up and walk to the door. He must understand what this place is, and what he’s doing here.
With great pain and effort he slowly walks out of the room in to a corridor, it seems to lead to a garden. Cherry trees occupy the whole area, long branches with green leafs sprouting out of them. There’s a small area behind the trees where flowers are growing. Mother Sveta is in there, planting some purple chrysanthemums.
“Well hello, you’re finally awake.” She says.
Dima is a rough little fellow, he hasn’t brawled in the streets for nothing. He’s a survivor, he can’t show weakness. Not to an old woman, not even if that woman is his savior. He needs to prove everybody that he’s tough.
“What’s this, who the fuck are you woman?”
Mother Sveta is not shocked by the rudeness and disrespect of the little boy. Throughout the years she’s had many orphans like him, sad and angry children full of rage against the world. Her only weapons against this, are chocolate muffins and a lot of love. She believes that anybody can change for the better, even people who are rotten and spoilt to the core.
“Why am I here?” Dima asks with a heavy rough voice.
Mother Sveta slowly approaches him and with her left hand she touches his shoulder. Dima feels very awkward and strange, he’s never been involved in such a peaceful situation.
“Don’t touch me woman!” He says while pushing away her hand.
Mother Sveta slowly gets closer to him as she tries to give him a much needed, warm loving hug.
She says, “Everything is ok now, you don’t need to worry about anything, this place is safe.” She smiles as she says this.
She gives him a very warm and caring embrace.
Dima is absolutely lost, the tender feeling of someone embracing him. He hasn’t felt this for so many years, not since his mother abandoned him. Unknown feelings deep inside of him, which he cannot understand are surfacing. Peace and rage are both mixed in a bowl of hatred towards his parents.
“Don’t touch me!” He shouts and pushes away Mother Sveta
Dima falls to his knees and starts crying, he firmly grabs his head with both hands. Pain and grief pour out of him like a fountain of pitiful gloom and doom. All those years of abandonment have left a psychological scar hidden deep within Dima’s fragile mind.
Mother Sveta feels agonizing pity for the poor boy. The inability to be able to do anything. She doesn’t know if all the love and compassion in the whole world are enough to heal this damaged young soul.
“Everything is okay, you can stay in this place for as long as you want.” She says while patting poor Dima’s back.
Mother Sveta starts walking towards the dining room, “Follow me this way, I’ll feed you something extremely delicious.” She says with a profound and friendly smile.
Dima sits on a shabby wooden chair, there is a plate full of delicious food in front of him. He’s very hungry yet, he doesn’t get any pleasure out of eating anymore. On a lucky day, he gets to eat some stale bread and perhaps some soup. His body doesn’t need to eat anymore, this is just fuel powering a machine.
“Please eat all of this, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Mother Sveta says as she offers some fresh bread to Dima.
He suddenly starts munching his food, no time to even savor it. Delicious and freshly made Pelmeni, topped with sour cream and sprinkled dill. He hasn’t eaten anything this tasty in years. Perhaps he really died and he’s in heaven. Dima’s distrusting green eyes reflect on the silver spoon that he’s holding. A very devious and ungrateful thought crosses his mind.
“I’ll go back to the room, I’m tired” Dima says while walking away from the table.
It’s nighttime and everybody is sleeping in the orphanage. Dima’s troubled thoughts don’t let him sleep. He wants to be different, he wants to be something else, yet… he knows that it is not possible. The wheel of fate is already turning in unstoppable motion. He is who, he is, and he does what he wants.
There are many things in life that could make Dima happy. Being the pet of an old condescending woman, is not one of them.
He will run away to the streets, to be who he really is. He’s a wild and unstoppable creature with nothing to lose. There is no space for useless morals and values that society imposes on people. Dima is his own man, with his own rules, in his own world. He’s just about to make his own little world darker.
The corridors are motionless and empty, he makes his way to the dining room. Earlier during lunch, he spotted some silver spoons and forks. Probably it will sell for a hefty sum at the market. Dima the thief, he carefully wraps all the silverware in a cloth napkin. Victory is at hand, he will go back to the gang as a victorious conqueror. He’ll tell an incredible story on how he stole these magnificent silver treasure.
Compassion is for the weak, survival is for the strong.
Some footsteps in the next room appear to be coming closer in this direction. A dim light from an old and rusty Soviet oil-lantern illuminates the room. Mother Sveta’s eyes are wide-open in disbelief to what she’s unexpectedly witnessing. Some tears run down her old wrinkly face. Denial is what she needs.
“Is this really who you are Dima?” She asks with a regretful broken voice. The old woman is emotionally shattered.
Dima looks straight it to her eyes. There is not a single hint of regret nor remorse. All the hardship and violence in the streets have turned the little boy in to an unrepentant monster. Dima is no longer a sad and abandoned child, he’s turned in to a cruel thug. With a stone cold heart that has no place for feelings nor emotions, especially that of silly compassion.
“Step out of my way, you old hag.” Dima firmly says with a rough and hateful voice.
The wrinkly old woman’s face looks battered in sadness, it looks like her heart is completely shattered and broken. She firmly stands in front of Dima the ungrateful and says, “You’re not going anywhere.” Salty tears run down her checks, drop by drop they fall on the floor.
Dima shows a smirk on his face, “As you wish. Have it your way, old woman.” In an instant, he forcefully grabs the shoulders of Mother Sveta. The little monster, he brutally pushes her away with all his strength and might. She abruptly falls against the cold stone floor, hitting and injuring her head badly. Vivid red blood like the color of imperial roses, starts flowing out of her head. Drop by drop a small pool of blood is formed.
Mother Sveta could have never imagined that in the end, not old age would kill her. Instead, very unexpectedly, compassion for a stray street-dog would finally take her life. The poor orphans are now completely lost, without Mother Sveta there is nobody to care for them. They will share the same fate as Dima the heartless monster, the streets is what awaits them.
Dima stares at the cold dead body of Mother Sveta, she lies there on the floor lifeless. A pitiful and pathetic sight of an old woman in death’s bed. There are no emotions whatsoever on Dimas face, he fails to comprehend what has just happened. It’s the first time that he has killed anyone. Even though it was not on purpose, he still did it. The vast emptiness inside of him has just become emptier. He’s one step closer to perdition, and one step further away from salvation. There is no turning back, what’s done is done, forever.
He grabs the napkin full of silverware and slowly walks to the exit. He steps on the blood stained floor by mistake. As he walks away from the body he leaves his red footprints on the floor. A footpath unintentionally made by an ungrateful stray monster. This is Dima and his dark beginning. The prosperous start to a criminal life where compassion and regret, do not exist. His majestic fate is about to precariously unfold.
“I must disappear for a while.” Dima mumbles.
He walks in the empty dark streets of the night, he’s walking towards the Siberian Railroad tracks in the outskirts of the city. He’ll wait for the right moment when a train passes by, to swiftly leap on it. A leap of faith, a leap for freedom. He wants to escape, he doesn’t know where. He just wants to disappear in to nothingness, because he is indeed nothing.
In the distance the heavy smoke from an incoming train seems to be getting closer, and closer by the minute. Dima is ready, his heart is beating like a racing horse, adrenaline madly rushes through his veins. He jumps, in to the incoming steel locomotive. Flashes of the old woman’s dead body go through his mind. “Guilt is not an option.” He says to himself. Forward is the only way, forward is his only choice. For better or for worse, the wheel of fate is already in motion with unstoppable consequences.
“Mother where are you? I wish that I could see you again.”
He says while gazing at the black sky full of bright stars in the wild Siberian Taiga. The train is moving west towards the next big city, which is Krasnoyarsk. Dima is full of sorrow and painful feelings of abandonment, but not of regret. He does what he does, because he needs to survive.
