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Michelle R Kidwell Power In The Pen

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What A Daughter Learns Chapter Four: An Ana Alexei Mystery
By Michelle R Kidwell Power In The Pen
Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Sasha wanted Ana to tell her story, and now Ana was trying to do just that, but this was perhaps harder than anything else she had ever written. Ana had to write this without revealing Sasha was alive.

 

Chapter Four:
            She heard a noise, something in the shadows, not an animal though, this sounded like footsteps. A person, someone was in the bushes. Hunting her.
            A chill ran through her spine, the fear paralyzed her, she wanted to run but could not. The fear had her frozen in spot.
            Every sound, every shadow, had her heart sinking.
            She was alone out here, alone with a monster. A monster who would have no problem killing her and leaving her out for the wild animals.
            Footsteps came closer, the smell of evil, of this man, this monster.
            A few second later just heaviness.
            The monster had one yet another battle.
            Why did he always win?
            Ana closed down her laptop and set it back on her desk. This was another novel her audience wanted, and she loved writing, but sometimes the memories got to her. She had relived these memories over so many times, and though this story was fictionalized, she remembered the fear, and terror all too well. The fact was you never got over a feeling of terror like that, you never got over being chased by a monster, a monster who was related to you.
            Ana envied those who had normal grandparents, ones who gave them sweaters at Christmas and made Apple pies, not a grandfather and grandmother who were connected to the Russian brev’ta. The Russian brotherhood, and who did all kinds of evil even to their own family in order to make a name for themselves. She talked to her grandparents in Moscow, the ones who were decent people, and she was blessed because of it, but she wished her Mother could have had parents who weren’t murders, serial killers.
            Her grandfather found joy in killing as if it were some kind of sport to get some kind of adrenaline rush out of. The thought of it all, the memories turned Ana’s stomach, but still she wrote these mysteries, in her mysteries though she had control and her characters came to Christ. She wished that had been true with her grandparents, but her grandfather just laughed at the idea. Now he was laughing in his prison cell.
            Ana was still afraid of this man, the one who tortured her, attempted to kill her, and had tried to kill her Mom, all of her Aunts, everyone in the family. 
            He was truly insane. He was truly evil.
            Ana could not imagine having that much hate in your heart, enough to make you want to kill your children, your grandchildren. 
            That kind of evil, that kind of hate was hard to phantom, but it was very real, and it happened more often than people would like to admit. 
            Her parents had seen that kind of hate and her sister was seeing that kind of hate now. Hate had a way of making you do insane things.
            Lord thank you that I have not let myself be filled up with that kind of hate. I know what it is to feel anger Lord, but I have never let it go to that extreme and I pray I never do. I just want people to stop being controlled by this kind of hate Lord, and I want to be protected from it but Lord evil does happen in this world, I have seen it. I have to believe though that the good outweighs the evil, because you Lord are good, and you bless us. I cannot deny I have been blessed more times than I can count. 
            Hate had kept Sasha away from a family who could have loved her for years, not because she hated them but because her Father hated her, and he would have killed her. Sasha had to pretend to be dead in those woods, to live, and she could have easily died in those woods, left their with no food, not enough clothing, but with God’s grace she had made her way out, half frozen, half starved, and scratched up but alive. Ana shuttered often as she read the accounts in Sasha’s journal, the one that had been a gift, given without anything said to Ana. 
            Sasha wanted Ana to tell her story, and now Ana was trying to do just that, but this was perhaps harder than anything else she had ever written. Ana had to write this without revealing Sasha was alive.
            Nearly four decades later and he still believed she was dead, her body decomposed in those woods somewhere but that had not been the case. Now with that monster in prison Sasha came around to get to know her family, every few weeks, for short visits, but now the visits were even less.
            The thought brought chills to Ana because she didn’t know where Sasha was. She didn’t know if one of her Grandfathers men had found out she wasn’t really dead, and made sure she never spoke again. Ana would not leave anything past her grandfather. He was a man who was controlled by hate, by evil, a man who had put on a show for a while, but when that mask came off his true colors came out, and they were not pretty.
            I saw no one for days, the nights grew freezing, every sound had me petrified, I had nothing to hunt with, so I found berries and ate them, but there was never enough to feel me up. I was alive though, despite what he thought I was alive. I was not going to give my Father the satisfaction of killing me. He may have believed I was dead, and perhaps if I hadn’t stumbled onto that cabin when I did and found that man I would be dead. Truth was I was terrified, terrified of that man, terrified of all men really because of the way my Father was, but I was more hungry than scared. I had to get something to eat, and this man was my only hope.
            I told him nothing of what truly happened to me, but in a way I think he might have known. The way he acted, the way he never called anyone or said anything. Even as he dropped me off in a small town, explaining which back roads led me to where, he promised he would not tell anyone he saw me.
            Perhaps he had heard my Father that day he had tried to kill me, yelling obscenities and shooting off that rifle. His little cabin was a fair distance from where my Father had tried to kill me, but he could have heard the way my Father yelled, and the noise of the rifle, he could have heard.
            I thought for a while and sometimes still do think that he was an angel sent by God. My faith had been seriously tested. We went to church and my Father did this kind of evil? How could God allow it, and how could people be so blind?
            My sisters were too little to say anything, but the others, they had to suspect something.
            No one ever said anything though, and I was left to deal with this monster. I was away now, saved by a stranger, who gave me a sandwich a coat and a ride to somewhere.   I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to be careful. I had to keep out of sight. I had to make my Father think I was dead.
            Ana read Sasha’s writing in disbelief. Shaking her head, if she didn’t know better she would think this was some made up story, but Ana knew what happened to Sasha was very real.
            She had overheard her Grandfather talk to her Grandmother about Sasha before, saying something about making sure the other children never spoke like he had made sure with Sasha. He talked about silencing her forever, and her dying in those woods.
            If I hadn’t heard that I might not be able to believe that what Sasha wrote was real. I might have thought that she was writing about some nightmare or horror movie she had watched. I had heard though and I knew this was very real. Her grandfather, Sasha’s father was worth than the monsters in the horror movies because he was very real, not some actor on a television screen.
            Ana was thankful her aunt trusted her enough to give her this journal perhaps her Mom had been right, she was a lot like Sasha had been. Marishka would always talk about  Sasha with such sadness, but for a while she had almost forgotten that she had an older sister, she was told so long she was the oldest, and she had been so little when Sasha was gone, but as Marishka got older she began putting the pieces together, until after Anna was thought to be dead, something clicked. Her Father had made another daughter disappear.
            Marishka was finally reunited with both sisters, but she and Sasha could not have a real closeness, because it was not safe. She could not just pop by for a visit every few days, it was every few weeks and it was never more than a half an hour, because it wasn’t safe.
            Sasha was still in hiding, and would probably be until their Father died.
            As said it was to say this, Ana hoped that her Grandfathers death would come sooner rather than later, because of all the evil he had inflicted upon his family.
           
           
           
                         
           


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Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 11/29/2011
Powerful story, Michelle; well penned!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn. :(


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