I know one, teach me two [2/?]
anonymous
April 27 2009, 10:35:15 UTC
My confused feelings were what led me from the park that December evening in 1982. As always I’d agreed with the driver that he came to pick me up at the entrance at 8, but he didn’t come. It’d been snowing heavily all week, and any fool could’ve told themselves that he’d just got stuck in traffic. But I decided he did it on purpose. “He’s probably just doing as told. It’s an order. ‘Leave Alfred and return alone’, that’s what they’ve told him.” And the more I said the sentences, the saner they occurred, and a quarter past eight I turned around and made my way down the street myself.
It was dark, the streetlights offered little help, and with snow still falling, I quickly started to freeze in my wet clothes. I managed to pass three crossing streets before collapsing up against a wall. My throat felt raw, and every breath was ragged. My lips had turned blue minutes earlier. I felt I should die, I overreacted, I became angry with everything and everyone. “Screw them,” I choked, “screw them all.”
“Do I see a straying cat?” The words were spoken with a cold more demanding for attention than the grey reality around me. As I turned my head towards the sound, the grinning face of a Russian was what met me. He was broad and tall, his dusty blonde hair peeking out from underneath the fuzzy hat, but the scariest thing was his violet eyes that pinned me against the wall. His hands were hidden in his thick tea-brown coat, which swayed as he moved towards me. “I like straying cats. I pick them up and bring them to a better place.”
“Heaven?” I asked rusty. He chuckled.
“You think my hands are for killing only?” He withdrew the gloved hands, holding one up in front of his eyes as was he seeing it for the first time. “Alfred, you disappoint me.”
“How did you get in here?” I sucked in air to keep my voice steady, but my lungs were hurting from the cold, and they threatened to close down. “It’s war, Ivan. My soldiers should’ve recognized you at the border and thrown you right back to Siberia.” He spread the fingers on the hand to peek though them at me.
“I got here the same way as I’ll get you back with me,” he whispered. His words hit me hard, and I struggled to get up.
“No way, I have a cap coming! Forget it, Ivan, my men will be all over you in no time!”
“Don’t make me laugh. Have you looked around?” As I stumbled free of the wall, the surroundings almost made me cry. I’ve been too focused on him to even notice how the snow had started falling with even greater speed than before. The streets were completely covered, not even a bike could pass through. My eyes turned wet, and it was with a smile Ivan placed an arm around my shoulders. “You see? My dear. My Alfred. I’m afraid the cold war just froze to my advantage.”
I would’ve pushed him away. I would’ve run, screaming for help. But instead I felt his hand cover my face, stopping my breath, and I felt myself not struggling as the world turned black.
I guess dad is right. Emotions make one weak. If I hadn’t let the rage get the better side of me, I would’ve waited safely at the park entrance, I would never have run into Ivan, or have to face the nightmares in reality. But I’m just a fool like him.
Re: I know one, teach me two [2/?]
anonymous
April 27 2009, 15:15:51 UTC
Oh god anon, you broke my heart into tiny pieces and sprinkled them over my laptop. (in a good way if at all possible)
The way in which you characterized Alfred was absolutely beautiful. Instead of the boisterous nation he's so often portrayed as, you molded him into just another person Someone whom was hurting on the inside, and not knowing how to deal with it. Your England was exactly what I'd think of when presented with the image of said nation, a man hardened by the harsh ways of the world. Bitter and resentful but never repentant.
I know one, teach me two [3/?]
anonymous
April 30 2009, 09:39:16 UTC
I woke up gasping for air, getting halfway up standing before slamming down against the ground again, head first. My lungs were two blocks of ice, preventing the air for coming properly into my system, and as I forced the first ragged mouthful of Siberian winter down, I felt my stomach twist for forcing itself out. As I tried to move to stretch myself, my body ached after having slept in the same position for… just how long?
“Fuck-“ I grabbed my neck as a warm feeling started creeping up my throat from the inside, and I hardly got the time to turn to my stomach, before the last days of food slowly, almost painfully slowly, inched out my mouth with a heavy sound. “Ahh… haah…” My back bended one last time, as my stomach sent the last ration up, finally letting my watery eyes drowse again. I sank down on my left side, feeling the air flow freely down my lungs, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips.
“Happy, are we?” I peeked through almost closed eyes. A pair of boots in front of me was swaying back and forth, resting shortly at the heel before going back to the toe again. Brown, old pair; cleaned by the snow. A little of the white stuff was still on the lashes, slowly melting. The boot-owner sunk to his knees, and I almost felt like crying as I recognized the thick coat, and memories started to wake up.
“N….No,” I choked, the water slipping from my eyes. Concerns were whispered in Russian, and I felt a gloved hand caressing my cheek, playing with the tears. “N…no… Don’t…”
“Don’t what? I’m just touching you. As I said, my hands are not for killing only. Oh dear, you’re not feeling well?” I closed my eyes as a thump glide across my lower lip, breaking the string of sal-via still attached to the juicy pool I’d just made. “Look at you, are you freezing? I guess it can be tough waking up here if you’re not used to the Russian winters,” Ivan rambled above. I hardly lis-tened, still trying to remember how I ended up here. “Maybe I should’ve rolled out a carpet… but… it all came so unexpected…”
His voice turned silent. I blinked with the eyes a couple of times, freeing them from the blur as I tried to catch his face. It was a mess of skin and violet eyes. I couldn’t tell whether he was smiling or frowning as he lifted his hand to cover my eyes.
“Save your sight for later.” His sing-song voice lulled me with words I wasn’t even sure belonged to the Russian language. With the hand that wasn’t covering my eyes, he slightly petted the back of my head. “Sleep, Alfred, we’ll continue this conversation later.”
“Why did you bring me here?” My voice sounded rustier than I expected. Before falling back into the black hole, I heard him answer:
Re: I know one, teach me two [3/?]
anonymous
April 30 2009, 12:44:00 UTC
I'm reeeally starting to like this fill. Its very well written, especially for something written in 1st person POV. That's always a really hard one to write in.
Re: I know one, teach me two [3/?]
anonymous
May 1 2009, 05:11:17 UTC
I really like this and can't wait to read more ^_^
I do have a little nitpick though. I closed my eyes as a thump glide across my lower lip I do believe the word you're looking for is "thumb" not "thump."
It was dark, the streetlights offered little help, and with snow still falling, I quickly started to freeze in my wet clothes. I managed to pass three crossing streets before collapsing up against a wall. My throat felt raw, and every breath was ragged. My lips had turned blue minutes earlier. I felt I should die, I overreacted, I became angry with everything and everyone. “Screw them,” I choked, “screw them all.”
“Do I see a straying cat?” The words were spoken with a cold more demanding for attention than the grey reality around me. As I turned my head towards the sound, the grinning face of a Russian was what met me. He was broad and tall, his dusty blonde hair peeking out from underneath the fuzzy hat, but the scariest thing was his violet eyes that pinned me against the wall. His hands were hidden in his thick tea-brown coat, which swayed as he moved towards me. “I like straying cats. I pick them up and bring them to a better place.”
“Heaven?” I asked rusty. He chuckled.
“You think my hands are for killing only?” He withdrew the gloved hands, holding one up in front of his eyes as was he seeing it for the first time. “Alfred, you disappoint me.”
“How did you get in here?” I sucked in air to keep my voice steady, but my lungs were hurting from the cold, and they threatened to close down. “It’s war, Ivan. My soldiers should’ve recognized you at the border and thrown you right back to Siberia.” He spread the fingers on the hand to peek though them at me.
“I got here the same way as I’ll get you back with me,” he whispered. His words hit me hard, and I struggled to get up.
“No way, I have a cap coming! Forget it, Ivan, my men will be all over you in no time!”
“Don’t make me laugh. Have you looked around?” As I stumbled free of the wall, the surroundings almost made me cry. I’ve been too focused on him to even notice how the snow had started falling with even greater speed than before. The streets were completely covered, not even a bike could pass through. My eyes turned wet, and it was with a smile Ivan placed an arm around my shoulders. “You see? My dear. My Alfred. I’m afraid the cold war just froze to my advantage.”
I would’ve pushed him away. I would’ve run, screaming for help. But instead I felt his hand cover my face, stopping my breath, and I felt myself not struggling as the world turned black.
I guess dad is right. Emotions make one weak. If I hadn’t let the rage get the better side of me, I would’ve waited safely at the park entrance, I would never have run into Ivan, or have to face the nightmares in reality. But I’m just a fool like him.
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The way in which you characterized Alfred was absolutely beautiful. Instead of the boisterous nation he's so often portrayed as, you molded him into just another person Someone whom was hurting on the inside, and not knowing how to deal with it. Your England was exactly what I'd think of when presented with the image of said nation, a man hardened by the harsh ways of the world. Bitter and resentful but never repentant.
Please continue this astounding fill author!anon.
Reply
I can't wait for more of this!!
Reply
“Fuck-“ I grabbed my neck as a warm feeling started creeping up my throat from the inside, and I hardly got the time to turn to my stomach, before the last days of food slowly, almost painfully slowly, inched out my mouth with a heavy sound. “Ahh… haah…” My back bended one last time, as my stomach sent the last ration up, finally letting my watery eyes drowse again. I sank down on my left side, feeling the air flow freely down my lungs, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips.
“Happy, are we?” I peeked through almost closed eyes. A pair of boots in front of me was swaying back and forth, resting shortly at the heel before going back to the toe again. Brown, old pair; cleaned by the snow. A little of the white stuff was still on the lashes, slowly melting. The boot-owner sunk to his knees, and I almost felt like crying as I recognized the thick coat, and memories started to wake up.
“N….No,” I choked, the water slipping from my eyes. Concerns were whispered in Russian, and I felt a gloved hand caressing my cheek, playing with the tears. “N…no… Don’t…”
“Don’t what? I’m just touching you. As I said, my hands are not for killing only. Oh dear, you’re not feeling well?” I closed my eyes as a thump glide across my lower lip, breaking the string of sal-via still attached to the juicy pool I’d just made. “Look at you, are you freezing? I guess it can be tough waking up here if you’re not used to the Russian winters,” Ivan rambled above. I hardly lis-tened, still trying to remember how I ended up here. “Maybe I should’ve rolled out a carpet… but… it all came so unexpected…”
His voice turned silent. I blinked with the eyes a couple of times, freeing them from the blur as I tried to catch his face. It was a mess of skin and violet eyes. I couldn’t tell whether he was smiling or frowning as he lifted his hand to cover my eyes.
“Save your sight for later.” His sing-song voice lulled me with words I wasn’t even sure belonged to the Russian language. With the hand that wasn’t covering my eyes, he slightly petted the back of my head. “Sleep, Alfred, we’ll continue this conversation later.”
“Why did you bring me here?” My voice sounded rustier than I expected. Before falling back into the black hole, I heard him answer:
“It’s was not a choice, it never is.”
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I can't wait to see the next part!!
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I do have a little nitpick though.
I closed my eyes as a thump glide across my lower lip
I do believe the word you're looking for is "thumb" not "thump."
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