A miserable night in Stalingrad

The sounds that Alyona is making will haunt me for the rest of my life. At this rate, probably for a day or two before that bastard gets me. There used to be ten of us. Now there are four.

We crunch through the snow, into a building where a bunch of soldiers are huddled up. I help Alyona down and I sit with her. She lays into me and I hold her. She hasn’t spoken since Anton was killed. All she does is sob.

I sit up deep into the night, rocking back and forth, holding her. She doesn’t fall asleep.

What a miserable night, cold, no fire, no food, but the thing worst of all, is that our spirits have been crushed by the loss. Anton was a good soldier, but he was a great man. He would have been a good husband to Alyona.

Not that it mattered. None of that matters in the ruins of this city, because we are all doomed. My eyes wide open, visions of my own **** play through my mind, the bullet tearing through me, the pain, the bitterness of all my experiences coming to an excruciating conclusion. Nobody will embrace me, hear my voice, or look into my eyes ever again. Is there something after this? I believed growing up, but it’s hard to see from where I am. I’m too young to die.

My vision blurs and my eyelids grow heavy as my body crashes from the adrenaline wearing off. I try to stay awake to give Alyona just a little bit of comfort, but eventually I fail and drift away.

My eyes open somewhere else, somewhere green. The bitter cold is gone, replaced with a gentle, spring breeze. Where am I?

This is my village.

It can’t be real. I look down. There is no grimy uniform on my body, but a little white sundress. I’m walking down a dirt path. I must be on my way home from school.

“Tatya, wait for me!” A familiar voice calls to me, a girls voice, sweet and melodic. I turn to my sister running up behind me, but I can’t speak. She’s so beautiful.

We come upon my house. Home. My mother is waiting for us.

“Tatya, Stasia, put your books away and come help me. Your father and brother will be home soon.

My body starts to wake up but I fight to stay here. I haven’t been home in a long time. When I fall back asleep, I find that a little time has passed.

My father comes in through the door. It’s tough, seeing him, and knowing that it isn’t real. This is the first time I’ve seen his face since I left for Minsk about a year and a half ago. Since he passed.

“It’s good to see you.” He tells me. “How was your day?”

My father looks me up and down. “Look at you.” He says. “You’re a woman now. Just next year you will be the first person ever from our family to study at a university. I’m so proud of you.”