Why did I leave? Why did I have to go look for them? Why? Why? WHY?

“Kid?! Where are you,” The man helping him earlier ran into his home, along with the rest of the men. “Oh, god.” Blood covered every surface in the room, the couch, the floor, the table, the gang was not kidding when they said they would pay. “Kid, let’s get you out of here.” Viktor stood up, tears still streaming down his cheeks, blood caking under his nails and on his coat.

After hours of him sitting in the police station waiting room in clothes that weren’t his, finally an officer spoke to him.

“Hey kiddo.” The officer smiled, kneeling on the ground, “How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine.” He said, not looking the officer in his eyes. His once dry hair was wet from sweat, the abnormal white streak down his head and fluffs of white stained with blood.

“Come on, you can’t hide things from your ol’ uncle.” His eyes were red from tears, but he was trying so hard to not let Viktor see them. Viktor looked up, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Come here, bud.” He held his arms out, warmly. Viktor dropped his blanket and folded into his arms, crying on his shoulder. He wanted to be tough, but he still was only 12, he was just a kid.

“I know, I know. It’s not fair. I loved your parents so much, and the little ones. I’m sorry you had to see this.” Although he wasn’t actually his uncle, he was close enough to his family that he could be.

“Am I going to come live with you now?” Viktor asked, his voice muffled by the man’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, kiddo, I don’t know.” The jingle of the door rang loud as two older people rushed into the station.

“Oh! Viktor!” The woman ran to the boy, pushing aside the officer and hugging him.

“Hi, grandmother.” He said, smiling, tears falling onto his shoulder.

“I can’t believe this has happened!” She cried onto his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

“Don’t suffocate him, Pasha.” The man said in a thick Russian accent.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, sitting on her heels.

“I-it’s alright, grandmother. Hello, grandfather.” He smiled at the tall, buff man.

“Hello, bud. Did they tell you already?” He leaned down and patted his shoulder.

“I was the one who found them.” He looked at the ground, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“Oh, my love.” His grandmother cupped her mouth in her hands, crying on him.

“Pasha. Do not make him suffer more by you crying on him.” He put his hand gently on his wife’s shoulder.

“I’ve finished the paperwork for this… incident.” Another officer said, approaching the grandfather.

“Well? Will he come live with us?” He asked.

“What?” Viktor asked, surprised. Why is everything moving this fast?

“Yes. His parents didn’t create a will, so you are the first for an offspring to go to if a death should happen.” The man said, reading off a paper.

“Wait, I thought I was going to,” his uncle stopped him.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s go get you already to go.” He patted his back, trying to get him to move.

“I don’t want to go back to the house. I’ll just leave my things there.” He said, eyes on the ground.

“Are you sure?” His grandmother asked.

“I’m not going back to the house.” His voice hitched slightly on the last word.

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“We can send it up to your new house so you don’t have to, okay?” His uncle bent to his eye view. Viktor nodded quickly and stood from where he was sitting.

“Are you ready then, bud?” His grandfather asked, holding out his large, tan hand out.

“Yeah. Let’s just go.” He took this grandfather’s hand and followed him out the door.

The months started to blend together as he started to adapt to his new living situations. The days were slow and faded together until the day of his family’s one year memorial arrived. Had it really been an entire year? Viktor put on his best suit and traveled with his grandparents back to his hometown to visit their graves. The dark cloud forming until rain poured from the heavens above, as if God was crying along with all those around the graves. The conjoined graves of his parents sat solemnly next to their two youngest children, they truly would not ever be separated, unlike Viktor.

“Honey, I think we’ve been here for long enough. It will take days to commute back to our home if we do not leave now.” He had become more and more distant with his family, going out to bars on the weekends and returning two or three days later, drunk. Today, though, he was actually sober, probably out of respect for his now deceased daughter.

“Alright.” She turned to Viktor, “Viktor, say goodbye. We have to leave now.” He nodded and leaned down to his family’s grave.

“Goodbye. I hope you are not still in pain after all this time. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” He whispered, kissing his fingers and laying a finger on each of his family’s headstones, one by one.

The commute back to his grandparent’s home was quiet and somber, the family sitting on the train in silence. As they arrived home, it was night, it had taken hours to return and hours to go there, in all they had spent two days in total away. Half of a day was spent on commute, another half at the memorial, and a full day commuting back, none of them had slept, but they didn’t plan on sleeping that night.

Viktor walked into his room, unchanging from his suit and slipping on a robe. As Viktor was washing his hair in the shower, he heard an argument, he peeked his head out of the door and listening to the conversation.

“Please, just stay at home! You don’t always have to drink away your problems!” His grandmother cried, sitting on her knees in the kitchen. SLAP! A loud slap carried its way through the silence of the home.

“Shut up and move out of the way, bitch.” His grandfather’s voice was harsh and swift. He pushed her aside and marched out the door, slamming the door behind him. He watched as his grandmother took a deep breath in and stood up, going back to what she was doing as if it never happened. Viktor shut the door quickly and quietly, getting back into the shower, thinking over what he had just witnessed. He tried to clear it from his mind as he brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas. He laid in his bed for hours, trying to think of something else, anything else. It had been hours and he still laid awake, staring at his ceiling, replaying the scene from earlier and the scenes of his family from a year from that day. A door slammed, making Viktor recoil and hide under his blankets. A bright light shined into his room, his door opening quietly, the scent of alcohol filling the room.

“Hey, bud. You still awake?” He heard his grandfather ask. He knew better than to talk to his grandfather when he was drunk. Viktor stared at the wall, hoping his grandfather would just leave, but it seemed he had different plans.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING BEGINNING⚠️

That night, Viktor couldn’t fake being asleep well enough, especially as his grandfather did the things he did while Viktor cried for him to stop. The safety of his bed was tarnished, along with his relationship with his alive family. No, stop, stop, stop, stop! He screamed in his head, he tried to scream out of his mouth but couldn’t.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING END⚠️

That next morning, he laid in his bed, in his filth, in his tears. He slowly got out of bed and got into the shower, the hot water stinging his skin, the loud noise of the shower covering his cries. As he was about to turn off the water, there was a knock on the door, he tensed his body, waiting for a voice.

“Sweetheart? Are you in there?” It was his grandmother. He turned off the shower put on his clothes quickly and flung the door open.

“Ah, there you are. What do you want for breakfast-” he stopped her mid-sentence and squeezed her, crying on her shoulder, “Oh, dear what’s the matter?”

“L-last night,” he wiped his tears and looked into his grandmother’s eyes, “grandfather came into my room drunk and he, he” Viktor couldn’t finish his sentence, he felt disgusting, he felt dirty. Next was a familiar sting across his face, sending him to the ground. He grabbed his cheek, it had gotten so hot, tears started to pool in his tear ducts.

“How dare you speak of your grandfather like that?”

“What?” Viktor stumbled for his words.

“I wonder if you know how it really feels?” She asked, tears streaming down her cheeks, “Do you know how much he does for our family? How could you even fathom that notion, how could you ever think up a lie such as that?” She shouted, hands balled on her chest, hair a mess.

“I’m not lying!” He yelled back, eyes red.

“Shut up! You and your whore mother always lied about these things! Just shut up!” She screamed, her voice breaking as she shook her head. The next few years of his life were absolute hell, he went day in and day out with the same rhythm. Wake up, school, come home, go wait in bed for his grandfather, take a shower, eat, go to sleep. Day in, day out, repeating over and over and over until he finally turned 16. The night before his 16th birthday, he packed before his grandfather got home from the bar and left, stealing enough money for a train ride back to the big city his uncle lived in now, Eldham, Penshaw.