𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐃

03. 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀

     IMAGINE LIVING IN CONSTANT FEAR FOR YOUR LIFE. Then imagine that times four other people to worry about, and three of them being young children. While a parent's job is to provide, teach, and protect their children, the Maximoff parents do those, but on a more extended level than half of the parents in the world. A constant reminder is there to torture one's heart because one day, a time will come when Death sweeps you from your feet, taking you away from your loved ones. Oleg and Iryna feared their children's safety after the shooting massacre was increasingly high, leaving an unsettling feeling weighing over their chests. Fortunately, the Maximoffs hadn't experienced the idea of being attacked because when they're not at school, the children were home with their parents, hiding in the safety of their apartment. 

     Iryna was busying herself with the dinner that they planned on having while watching a show, preferably a show Wanda will pick--it was her turn to pick the next show. The sound of bullets echoing in the streets below their apartment caught Iryna's attention. The woman peers over the window as she watches a civilian gets shot down by his shooters. This was normal in Sokovia, to feel like test subjects in a box, one by one, getting put down like a wild animal. Iryna feared for their lives, but as long as they were in their home, then there was nothing for her to be scared of.

     Like she would always say, their home is their safe haven.

     Dinner was nearly prepared, so Iryna sent her children to wash up before they eat. Wanda peers up from her homework while Pietro lifted his head from the couch, avoiding his homework. Eszter was on the bed playing with her dolls, unaware that she seemed to have caught her brother's attention, finding the scene of Eszter's imagination more entertaining than his homework. First, it was odd because the little girl's imagination involved one of her dolls being a superhero from a different planet and the other being Santa Clause's daughter.

     Wanda taps Pietro's arm to get his attention, blinking back into reality. "Mama says we have to wash up," she informs. Pietro nods and shifts his paper off of his lap, closing them all up and shoving his homework into his backpack. Clearing her side of the couch, Wanda moved her backpack aside as well. "Come on, Essie. Time to wash up."

     Eszter glances over her shoulder, nodding. "Okay," staring back at her dolls with a firm look, her eyes shifting between the blonde and brunette dolls. "I'll be right back."

     A smile casts across Wanda's face as she holds her hand out, waiting until Eszter takes her hand, leading the two into the shared bathroom, where Pietro was finishing up. The bathroom wasn't small, nor was it big; it wasn't an ideal space in the apartment, barely fitting three children in a small bathroom still proved to be rather difficult. Soon, once they're older, it will definitely become harder, especially when the children become teenagers.

     Pietro shuts off the water and shakes the excess water from his hands, the boy shuffles around the girls and towards the hand towel hanging on the wall.

     There were more thunder explosions somewhere outside again, so Eszter was beginning to dread the remainder of the night. Unaware of the situation outside, the children were sheltered in the dark as Iryna and Oleg hadn't informed their children; however, they don't necessarily plan on doing so either. There was no need to worry the children. Having panicked kids is a bad mix.

     "Let me get the stool for you. Hold on," Wanda releases Eszter's hand as she steps around the little girl, pulling out a little stool from in between the toilet and tub. She clicks it open until the stool stood flat, Wanda pushes it over and sits it in front of the sink. "Do you remember the song that we always sing when we wash our hands?"

     Humming with a quick nod, Eszter jumps up on the stool and flicks the water on. Then, singing to the tune of Row, Row, Row Your Boats. "Wash, wash, wash your hands, play our handy game. Rub and scrub, and scrub and rub. Germs go down the drain," Eszter sings out loud, pulling her hands away from the water. "I'm done!"