𝔛𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔞

Chapter 12

As the night brought crashing waves, my mother gathered us around the Tv in the living room, disk in hand leading me to believe something beyond horrific was about to transpire. "Mama...mama let's not do this." Vigoruos waves tried to deflect my mum from putting the disk in the c.d player. Why are these things even still in existence. Successfully, my mother swatted away my advances, using my fathers strength against me by making him hug me from the back, holding me down. "pust' eto sluchitsya, eto zakonchitsya bystreye" let it happen it will be over quicker

He had similar stitches to Dragos but his were across the right side of his jaw all the way to his ears. Another ran from his left eyebrow to his collarbone, a few stitches were also at the back of his head. None of the men involved seemed to be hurt or deterred by their injuries. They just drank whiskey and smoked cigars. The animosity between Dragos and my father was still fairly apparent as they sat in the same room together, on opposite sides, the primal tension was apparent. There would likely be another fight in the future, probably when their wounds healed, maybe before then.

As the play button was pressed the opening to "Let's Groove tonight" blared through the speakers leaving me wide eyed, mouth ajar. I felt betrayed that my own mother would do such a thing to me given my already fragile state from the stressful day I'd had. 

"Mother...why?" The betray riddled my tone but she just blinked rapidly intentionally acting oblivious to the embarrassment she's just caused me. "quel est le problème, mon amour" what the problem, my love. Every cell in my brain tuned out once I saw an 8 year old me on the screen, wearing a thick snap back with cornrows in may hair and M.C Hammer type clothing, Fake chains, a wife beater and a sharpie goatee. I shuffled and grooved on beat in the centre of my room doing the "hammer time" and splits which were not even necessary. 

Dafne was the first to laugh then everyone followed. "I wish I could see how embarrassed you are." Ivan was always there when you needed someone to punch, so I did. Thankfully my dad let me go quick enough to get a few hits in before Ivan flinched away. "That's a hate crime, I'm disabled you know?" I stuck my tongue at him, which he couldn't see but was satisfying all the same. "I saw that...mysh'" I gasped at his use of my nick name. "Don't ever call me that again!" 

Somehow everyone wanted to get on my nerves today. "An what are you going to do about it, call nesti to beat me up." My body froze and looked at my dad who pretends not to hear us. My face was flushed when I looked to Dragos whose eyes were captivated by my performance on the screen. I was now about 12 dancing to "It's raining men" wearing a purple feathered skirt from my mothers closet and a matching  shirt performing as "Mother Nature." 

Amusement was a distinct feature that traces his expressions. He'd pat my mother from time to time asking random things I couldn't quite hear over everyone else's amusement. Looking up at my brother who now ruffled my hair, sensing my distraction. He tried to make amends by punching my dad on the shoulders, hoping to distract him long enough for me to get my escape, and it worked. His hold on me loosed quick enough for me to slip out. But as a consequence, Ivan was now the one trapped. "Save yourself..." He mockingly reached out to me and grabbed my face. "I will survive." 

"Oh I have her dancing to that as well."

Everyone cheered. "Let's see!" as I looked at Dragos mortified, he looked back at me grinning "let's see" and shrugged, completely unfazed by my embarrassment. I walked up to him and he placed me on his lap, snuggling me deeper into his body as he always did. "Little mysh' is a movie star hmm?" The tease made giggle. "Shut up nesti."

From the sides, their parents glanced at each other, the same emotion passing through them as they saw the children's continued interaction. It was definitely hard pill to swallow, the though of you children moving on to a stage where you weren't the first person they called when they needed help, or emotional stability. But it was something they had to accept, something that made them weary yet excited for the future of their children