Forgive Me

Andrei woke abruptly, the echo of a dull thud from the kitchen seeping into his mind. His stomach growled with hunger, reminding him of the meager meal he'd had earlier. Pushing aside his discomfort, curiosity lured him toward the kitchen.

What greeted him was a sight he could not comprehend. His mother was slowly pulling herself off the floor. He called out to her, his voice laden with concern, "Mama, why are you in the kitchen?"

But his mother didn't seem to hear him, her eyes flickering and her expression contorting as if she was struggling with something. Then, in a daze, she moved towards the shelf.

"Mama?" Andrei called again, his voice laced with uneasiness. Her trembling hand reached out, wrapping around the hilt of the knife, "Why do you need the knife, Mama? Are you going to eat something?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She didn't answer, instead she turned towards him, her eyes devoid of their usual warmth. His heart pounded in his chest, the terror in his veins growing with every step she took.

He had never seen his mother like this, "Mama... what's wrong?" He asked, his voice shaking as his eyes began to glisten with the threat of tears.

Then, in a flash, she raised the knife high, her intention clear in her darkened eyes.

Andrei's breath hitched as his wide eyes met hers, frozen with fear. But, just as she was about to strike, her other hand shot out, pushing him back. He stumbled, falling onto the cold floor, his small body shaking with fear and confusion.

"M-Mama…" He cried out, his voice choked with tears. His innocent gaze met hers, a plea for answers in his terrified eyes.

As his mother continued her slow, unsteady approach, Andrei scurried backwards until his back hit the cold, hard wall. He tried to make himself smaller, pressing his small body into the rough surface as if hoping it would swallow him whole.

"Mama, what...why?" His voice, thin and shaky, echoed in the silence. His tear-streaked face reflecting his confusion and fear.

His mother continued her staggering advance, continuing to grimace.

"Mama...stop...please..." Andrei's pleas went unheeded, as with each step she took, the gleaming knife in her hand drew perilously closer to his small form. His tiny fingers clawed at the wall behind him, his breathing erratic, punctuated by terrified sobs.

Suddenly, she knelt before him, clutching his neck with her free hand. The knife hovered ominously, wavering as her grip faltered.

Her eyes, previously vacant, flickered with a desperate determination, the softness of her gaze offering a stark contrast to the scene unfolding.

"Forgive me for being so weak…" Her voice was a raspy whisper, drowned out by the deafening hammering of her own heartbeat, "You deserve...better…" A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as tears streamed down her gaunt cheeks.

Then, with a sudden burst of resolve, she redirected the knife, the blade pointing towards her own throat.

Andrei's eyes widened in terror as, with a swift, determined motion, she slit her own throat, a streak of blood splashing across his face and making him wince.

The gasp that tore from her lips echoed throughout the room, creating an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air.

"MAMA!!!!" His cry pierced the suffocating silence as he lunged forward, wrapping his small arms around her falling body. His sobs filled the room, a heartbreaking symphony to the life slipping away from his mother's vacant eyes.

"No…mama…get up…" His world shattered, he clung onto her, his pleas echoing long after her heart had ceased to beat.

However, as he struggled to grasp the reality, his eyes briefly shone with a golden light before fading.

—

A day passed,

As the first light of dawn stained the eastern sky with hues of pink and orange, a small figure sat slumped on the wooden porch of a dilapidated building. Andrei, still in shock from the horrors of that night, gazed vacantly at the rusted gate of the old house.

He was still asking himself why his mother did that and why this was happening to him.

The pudgy figure of the landlord hovered over him, her harsh voice piercing the morning quiet, "You'd better behave yourself in that orphanage, boy. Don't you dare laze around, or you will end up like your good-for-nothing mother. And...cry again about not leaving, I will throw you to the vultures," Her bitter words cut through Andrei's ears.

His small hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing as his lips trembled.

Suddenly, the landlord's sharp gaze shifted away from Andrei, a predatory smile spreading across her features as the dull roar of an engine echoed down the quiet street. A beaten-up truck pulled up in front of the house, dust billowing behind its worn tires.

A burly man, his face hidden beneath a scruffy beard and the brim of a worn-out hat, stepped out of the truck.

The landlord practically skipped towards him, her saccharine smile never wavering, "Everything's ready," she chimed, practically purring at the sight of the man.

The man's gaze fell on Andrei, his eyes hardened with a cold indifference, "How old was he again?" he asked, his voice a low grumble that made the landlord flinch, "A healthy six-year-old boy," she reassured him, almost too quickly, "He'll be perfect for your organization."

The man wordlessly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of cash, handing it to the landlord. Her eyes lit up with an almost manic glee as she began to count the bills.

But her face fell when she found the amount was less than agreed upon.

She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by the man's cold warning, "Take what you're given, or you'll end up with nothing," he threatened, a dark edge to his voice.

"O-Oh, no, no. I apologize if I made you misunderstand," Terrified, the landlord quickly apologized, her bravado deflating like a punctured balloon. She knew well not to mess with people like him.

The man pulled Andrei up by his arm and began leading him towards the truck. As they approached, the back door swung open, revealing the faces of other children, all under the age of ten, huddled together. Some of them looked afraid, some confused, while some seemed like they just didn't care.

As Andrei was roughly guided towards the back of the truck, his heart pounded in his chest like a drum.

His small body shivered, not from the chill of the morning, but from the bone-deep dread coursing through him.

His black eyes widened as he took in the sight before him: a small sea of faces, all young and most of them fraught with the same fear and confusion he felt in his own heart.

A small, red-haired girl looking around his age sat huddled in the corner, casually leaning against the metal. A pair of older boys seemed to be eagerly discussing something with each other. It seemed as if this wasn't their first time.

In another corner, a group of young kids whispered amongst themselves, their hushed tones filled with anxiety.

An oppressive silence hung over them, the air thick with the bitter tang of fear. Andrei swallowed hard, his throat dry. He felt a firm push on his back, forcing him to stumble forwards into the truck.

He was guided to a small, vacant spot near the red-haired girl. His eyes met hers, her gaze eerily calm and indifferent before looking away.

As the truck's door slammed shut, plunging them into semi-darkness, Andrei couldn't help but feel a sense of suffocating fear.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the sudden upheaval in his life. He had lost his home, his mother... everything. Now, he was being bundled off to an unknown place, with people he didn't know. He felt small, scared and utterly alone.

He had never been alone. He always had his mother by his side, and he had never missed her warmth this badly. He missed her smile, her gaze, her stories, and her voice.

As the truck roared to life, Andrei clenched his jaw, his vision becoming blurry again as tears began to flow down his cheeks.

But despite how shattered he felt, the only desire burning ever so brightly was to find out why his mother ended up like that. She would never try to hurt him and then kill herself.

He could feel it in his bones that something didn't feel right.

He had asked the landlord, but he didn't want to believe his mother would kill herself and leave him alone.

Maybe the place where they were going to bring him might have some answers.