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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Our Blank Canvas: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

42 Kabanata

Chapter Eleven:

The exchange seemed forced. From where I was standing, it looked like my dad was hesitantly offering Evgeniya a seat next to him. She slid into the booth, and then their eyes traveled to my direction. I clenched my jaw, feeling the same lead sensation in my legs as I did at Sky Harbor airport.Why did I do this? What a mistake! I debated running for my life out of that damn restaurant, but my father was suddenly beside me before I could regain the feeling in my lower extremities. Sensing my infuriating aura, he took a step forward to speak lowly.“Before you say anything, I didn’t know she was coming Vasha.” His expression was gentle. I narrowed my eyes at him, and stared into the same exact one’s I had to determine if he was lying. “I swear to you, Vasilisa. She’s here picking up supper for...” He faltered for a second, then shook his head with a scoff. “Anyway, while she’s here for a few min

Chapter Twelve:

“Dinner was pleasant?” My dad asked mildly as we entered his spacious home just over an hour later. After my luggage had been brought in, we were standing in the foyer when he spoke the words. I removed my boots and shuddered. My blood must have really thinned during my time living in Arizona. I couldn’t handle the harsh Siberian climate any longer.How was I ever homeless in this city!? It’s so hard to believe. “I could not finish it.” I reminded him dryly, rubbing my thin arms for warmth. “Nerves. Too much going on here.” I tapped my temple, and dad smiled with understanding. He didn’t say much as I pushed my mushroom soup around with the spoon, and we had it boxed up so I could have it for later. Once Evgeniya left and I’d hung up with Francine, my mind began working at the rate of a hundred miles per minute. Eating suddenly seemed inconvenient. “Yes well, it’s waiting

Chapter Thirteen:

"What are you doing back here, in Russia?" With a perfectly red manicured hand, Olya took a long drink from her margarita and raked over my frame with her darkened amber eyes."It's a long story, really." I replied tightly, looking off to the side. The last exchange I had with my EX girlfriend, Olya Frolova, was a disaster. Closing my eyes, I can picture the scene as if it happened just yesterday.********************A year and two months ago“Vasha? Get up, it’s closing time.” A well known female voice urged out of nowhere.“Ngghhhhh, no. Go away, Olya.” I groaned, too dizzy to slide off the bar stool. I heard shouting not far from me, but I couldn’t be bothered enough to even lift my head. The table underneath me ceased to feel cool and all I wanted was another drink. It was always another damn drink. "I need one more..." I attempted to ask, but the words were muffled since m

Chapter Fourteen:

Francine’s Point of View:Whistling wind howled and blew all around me, and I squinted in confusion. This definitely wasn’t my bed.Wait, why am I outside!? I halfheartedly attempted to find my bearings, but the thundering sky’s intermittent crashing made my heart leap every time I tried focusing on any one detail. My feet suddenly felt very heavy, and it didn’t take long to realize I couldn’t move them. A drastic drop began pulling me downward, and I shrieked with fear.I’m sinking....“VASHA!” I twisted my body all around, screaming my girlfriend’s name. The vast echoing made me feel more alone than I already was, and I fought like hell to free myself. A sandstorm swept a thick sheet of dust into my eyes, but I kept thrashing like my life depended on it. The substance swallowing me whole reached my thighs, and I gasped in dis

Chapter Fifteen:

Francine isn’t answering any of my phone calls, and has logged out of VK completely so she won’t see my messages right away.She made it very clear how badly my actions hurt her, and brushed off my every attempt to explain myself. It’s been forty five minutes since she rushed me off the phone in tears, and aside from trying to get her to call me back, all I’ve been able to do is stare at my VK account in anger. I’m in the settings portion, under blocked users. Olya’s name is screaming at me in bold letters. Up until a year ago, she’d always been one of my top friends on this site. I never would have thought she’d wind up here, but it happened so fast. After we had sex, Olya playfully took my phone and re-added herself to my friend’s list. Taking a drag off my cigarette, I’d been too busy staring at her ceiling cursing myself for what I’d done to care.********************A ye

Chapter Sixteen:

“Vasilisochka? Are you waking up?” My father’s questioning tone was followed up with a soft knock on the closed door of his guest bedroom. Because I didn’t answer right away, he continued knocking and calling my name. The persistent beckoning stole me away from my slumber. I squinted at the window and groaned at the dreary grey sky miserably.I hate getting up when it’s cold outside. “No, let me sleep.” I protested, squeezing my eyes shut and curling up under the heavy quilt. I wasn’t ready to face today. “Nonsense, Vasha. It’s almost ten in the morning, don’t be lazy.” Dad scolded with a smile in his voice. I knew he was just teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his statement. “Come to the table, breakfast is waiting for you.” My stomach growled at the mention of food, and I sat up to sleepily rub my eyes. Glancing up at the ceiling, an e

Chapter Seventeen:

Evgeniya lived about 20 miles away from my father, in a small home. Wooden cottage style. I parked my vehicle and double-checked my messages to make sure I had the right place. When I was sure, I surveyed the structure gravely. It was a dark brown house, crafted out of logs and various sturdy materials. Just like you’d see with classic housing, the brick chimney produced a thick cloud of grey smoke. Watching it release into the cold starless night, I reluctantly slid out of my car and grabbed three packages from the backseat. In Russia, we always bring gifts when we’re visiting. Even if the hostess is the mother who abandoned us as a child. I felt the scowl creeping up and struggled to hide it. You’re here to talk. You came on your own, don’t be rude. I scolded myself silently, trudging up to Evgeniya’s front door. Before I could change my mind, I quickly knocked three times.Knock, knock, knock

Chapter Eighteen:

Just as Evgeniya was carefully setting a plain white tea pot in the middle of her large table, a young blonde boy walked into the dinning room. His eyes almost matched Sasha’s, but were a slightly darker shade of blue. He shared the same ears as Evgeniya and I, and they became bright red once he saw me sitting among his family.“Who’s that?” He asked his parents warily, slowly making his way to the table.“Dima, this is your older sister Vasilisa. She’s come all the way from America to meet you. Have manners.” Evgeniya scolded gently as she began serving my siblings child-sized portions. Kirill grinned at me, gesturing toward the feast in front of us.“You’re so small. You don’t eat in America, yes? Help yourself dear.”I actually put on ten pounds since moving to Arizona, but the backwards compliment made me smile a little as I served myself a few potato pancakes with a hearty dollop of so

Chapter Nineteen:

Nicole (Brody’s) Point of View:I knew it wasn’t fair. None of it was, to anybody. I didn’t want my friends to start thinking of me as some shitty flake, but I couldn’t tell anyone why I broke up with Liza yet. Mainly because it’d affect everyone else, too.There’s something about Francine though. We’ve always understood each other on another level, and I’ve found myself in situations where I could tell her shit I’d never even spoken out loud before. That includes to Olivia, and Livys been my best friend since grade school.I arrived at the Great Lakes Naval Training Center in Chicago almost a week ago. It’s surreal being back here, after going through the program myself at one time. At this point in my life, I’ve served six grueling years and clawed my way up the ranks. Many of my fellow Officers report under me now, and I’ll admit it’s strange ordering peopl

Chapter Twenty:

Zlata Likhachyova’s corner bakery has always been popular, ever since I can remember. She’s famous for her freshly baked cookies and Medovik (honey cakes.) That familiar warm, sweet smell filled my nostrils invitingly as I hurried inside. Three people bundled up in heavy jackets and warm clothing waited patiently for their orders, sitting in the only four available seats. I used to hound Zlata about buying a larger space, but she’d wave me off and give me something to “stick my nose in so I’d stay out of her business.” Crowds would come and go, and there were days I’d be rolling out dough, baking, and layering the final products with rich creamy icing without any breaks for eight hours straight.Everyone in Tobolsk came to “Sladkiy obrashchat’sya” for their baked desserts. Even though the establishment was often cramped and uncomfortable, the delectable treats made up for it.

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