The Russian's Tricks(Short Story)

1...

After fleeing war in eastern Congo, Cynthia had found herself in an American foster home until the age of 12. After CPS discovered the brutal acts the Jhonson family had inflicted on her, she was sent to an orphanage shortly after. Cynthia remained there until the age of 16. Leaving behind a ruthless caregiver who had practically left her malnourished.

Her parents, somewhere buried in Tanzania, had abandoned her and her brother to fend for themselves in the rebel-infested parts of Goma.

Where guns never ran out of bullets.

The plan was Kinshasa. Months of walking, running, and ducking. Unfortunately, Micheal had died from malaria in a small village they found refuge in. It was there she met a white American family who would bring her to the states.

Their intentions were not clear at first, Cynthia had never seen a mundele in her life, yet later realized they had been looking for a slave to take back home all along.

1 year later, she now resided in a homeless shelter. It wasn't in the best conditions, but it provided food, water, and transportation. There were designated rooms for the homeless, and as long as the room requests weren't filed, she would have a place to lay her head.

At the end of every month, she would fill out a form, and surely by the first of January till the 31st of December, she would be given the exact same room. Number #203.

The workers knew very little about Cynthia other than the brief details of her past. She kept to herself on topics such as her childhood. But remained friendly to everyone around her.

Holding grudges was something she didn't believe in.

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The Sokolov family had 3 sons, their middle, Theodore Sokolov, was a troublesome teen. Born into a rich Russian family had its ups and downs. Theo had not remembered the last time his family sat down together for dinner. His older brother, Putin, named after the current president of mother Russia, was out of the house and studying abroad at some prestigious university in Switzerland. His younger brother, Kaleb, was only 7, and spent most of his time playing rugby or rambling about wanting to work at NASA.

Theo did not care much for his parents, who has children and only sees them once a month? Him and his siblings however, were somewhat close, and were the only things keeping him sane. Regardless of how many goals he scored in futbol, or the countless amounts of spelling bees won, he had realized his parents would never be there to support him.

Moving to America was quite unsettling for the young man, he spoke English fluently...As well as French, Dutch, German, Spanish, Korean and of course Russian, so language barriers were non-existanant.

Yet there was something about Americans that rubbed him the wrong way and he couldn't point out why.

He would now have to attend school with them, and not some fancy one with $600 uniforms. A public school, with Chromebooks instead of MacBooks. Crocs instead of loafers.

It had been Theo's choice, his wanting to experience an American reality.

He would start tomorrow.