Once upon a time, in the northwestern lands of Belarus under Tsarist Russia, a small group of 2500 ethnic Belarusians would make the treacherous journey to the far east in what would become the Transbaikal region during the 1830s. After a century of wars, revolutions, and changing allegiances, their descendants would soon number around 10000 after the Second World War. By this time, none of them were even fully Belarusian anymore, nor were they ethnically Russian. Just some confusing mixes

  During the Soviet Union's baby boom, following 4 years of hell, Papa, Yegor Aleksandrovich Vyachorka, and Mama, Anna Petrovna Dohval, would be born to this diaspora in the Borzinskiy district. Both had long forgotten what "home" meant. They would meet in the mid-1960s and settle down in 1968. The couple would soon have 4 of us over the next 9 years. We are:

  Viktoriya Yegorovna Vyachorkina, 1969

  Tatiana Yegorovna Vyachorkina, 1971

  Isaak Yegorovich Vyachorka, 1974

  And finally, I, Mikola Yegorovich Vyachorka, 1977

  During the early 1980s, life was amazing. Every day after school, I would gather with brat's buddies in the hills, and we would play all day until Mama would eventually call us in for dinner. It usually consisted of Papa being too busy reading newspapers, me arguing with Isaak over which one of us can hide better, Mama mumbling something, and our siestras spending an unusual amount of time on the desk for school things. Little me and Isaak didn't exactly get them. Tatiana would sometimes act really mean when we hung out with strangers, and she seemed not to like fun. But I could tell she loved us a lot because she always defended me when older boys would start being really mean to me. Viktoriya occasionally taught me her Judo moves. I didn't know how to do it, and siestra would always burst out laughing. She was happy so I guess I did it right??

  There was a night in 1985 when the 4 of us started singing a Belarusian lullaby that only we knew in the kitchen. Isaak drummed our wooden spoons on the counter; meanwhile, I was using one of the mugs as a microphone. Mama recorded us at first, but later gave the camera to Papa, and we all sang it together. It ended with me and Isaak shouting and Papa shouting behind the camera, "uraa". Such a golden childhood memory

  When everything was perfect, then came the year 1989. My two big siestras moved out west for school, and some volleyball association in Leningrad decided brat's skills were good enough for them. To make things worse, they transferred Papa's job closer to the city. Papa tried to make it exciting, a "fresh start," he said. But he couldn't suppress the trembling in his voice. Mama just stared out the train window the entire ride

  Life became a daily struggle the moment Brat stepped out the door. Papa and Mama were always busy with work. Papa even stopped reading newspapers, spending his evenings resting in silence instead. The kids at my new school were never friendly. I remembered making friends much more easily back in Borzya. Everyone there had kept it to themselves, and this time, I had no Viktoriya or Tatiana to comfort me whenever I came home sad- no Isaak who always knew the best way to make me laugh until I forgot my miseries. I even started talking to the walls just to make sure someone was listening to me

  BUT, I had promised myself something. I would prove to those at school who had looked down on me that I can rise above them. I will study so well that any university in the West would start bombarding me with invitations, and maybe, I could reunite with my brother and sisters there

  Just when I was getting used to the new place and finally making friends, the 1990s came. My life collapsed completely - just like the Union did.

  One by one, my new friends stopped coming to school. Both Papa and Mama lost their jobs. I lost a lot of weight, and coming to school without eating anything became normal. The teachers started to worry about me, but I always pretended I was fine.

  But even with all that, I held onto my promise. By Year 10, in 1993, I ranked among the top ten students in my school. If I could just endure for one more year, I told myself, I’d make it to Leningrad. I’d reunite with Isaak. I’d lift Papa and Mama out of their misery.

  Then, that winter, a beautiful and charismatic Buryat girl transferred to our class. I fell for her instantly; she had everything I lacked: confidence, control, and stability.

  But being the shy, skinny boy I was, I thought I stood no chance.

  Then, quite unexpectedly, she made the first move.

  I had nothing at the time, no friends, no social life, no family I could easily talk to. So of course, I said yes.

  I would realize over twenty years later that it was the worst decision I had ever made.

  Because the truth was, I hadn’t had nothing back then.

  I still had myself… and loving older siblings who just happened to be far away

  At first, I liked her. Sure, she could be a little unfair at times, but she gave me something I had been missing since 1989, companionship. I no longer felt lonely and had someone to talk to, even if she didn't really listen to me often. Nonetheless, I would fall in love with her to the point I was starting to forget myself and my promise. By the year of year 10, I ended up in the top 25 instead of the top 10. Mama wondered why I was dropping, and I told her the truth during the rare moments she was free

  Mati(mother in Russian), I met this girl at school. Her name is "Mandukhai" and she's keeping me company. It's just that she has been distracting me from my studies lately.

  Mama responded, forgetting why we even started this conversation in the first place. She knew I had been lonely ever since Isaak left

  That's great to hear, sinok(son in Russian), when can I meet her?

  I said

  I think I'll bring her in today! I said a bit too excited

  I came over to Mandukhai and told her the news. She really didn't want to come to ours because it would be "uncomfortable". I reassured her that Mama is friendly and that she wanted to see her. After a long enough time, I had convinced her to come. It was strange since this was the first time she had ever listened to me

  An hour later, we came home, and Mama was waiting for us patiently at the table. Then Mandukhai and she had their first conversation. I don't remember every detail, but here's what I can:

  Privet, are you the girl Mikola has been talking about?

  "Da, I probably am."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Ahh, wonderful! I thank you so much for being there for my son. His older siblings are all away at college. Me and his dad are busy all day selling kompots in the street, and Mikola has been struggling to make friend-

  "I gotta babysit him now?? Wha-"

  Mama blinked, mid-sentence

  "Whatever"

  Mama took a breath and tried again

  Anyway, what do you 2 like to do? How well do you know Mikola?

  Mama was smart. She knew the type of person she was right from the first 10 seconds

  "Well, he just likes doing my thing, I guess."

  And what are your things??

  "Oh, you know, basketball, hanging out after school, music, sometimes we visit my grandparents' farm."

  I see. Have you tried asking what Mikola wants to do?

  "Eh, why bother? He doesn't speak up about it anyway."

  Right at that very moment, Mama had already understood her more than I did.

  Would you like to eat some piroshkis, young lady??

  -Ohh, Mama's piroshkis are the best!! I interrupted because it was true, her piroshkis could lift anyone's mood. But then...

  "I hate piroshkis!! How about chebureki instead?"

  There was silence.

  Mama blinked once.

  Then she said, calm but ice-cold

  Get out of my apartment, NOW!

  Mandukhai left the apartment pretty quickly, and I just stared at the door for 5 minutes straight before Mama came up to me and said:

  Sinok, I know you are quite lonely right now. But you have to break up with her, right this instant. She doesn't love you back; she only sees you as the vulnerable kind of boy, easy to manipulate. She has already started to drain your hardworked academic success. Guess how much she can ruin your life if you keep going.

  "But Mama! She is the only person who fills the gaping emptiness in my soul."

  She's only filler, sinok. Save up that space for someone who actually listens to you. Besides, you'll be seeing Isaak very soon! You'll graduate next year in 1995. Right now, keep doing what Mikola would do. Not what Mandukhai wants. I'm already very proud of you, my son, but make me even prouder."

  I don't know why, but I just broke down to tears and hugged her. She held me tight and whispered, "Fine, I'll go make you some piroshkis."

  The next morning, I reflected on what Mama had told me yesterday, and she was right. Throughout the summer, I personally met up with my Biology and Chemistry teachers, and they helped me break down their classes. Occasionally, Papa would drive me to Chita so I could study about various universities. And, eventually, I decided that Pavlov First Saint Petersburg Medical University was my destination. I still met up with Mandukhai from time to time, as she was still the only one who offered me companionship. But I listened to Mama's advice and tried to be my own around her, which would cause tensions, but I didn't care. I treat her more like a friend nowadays

  Year 11 tested my everything. I purposely distanced myself from Mandukhai to focus solely on my studies. I saw every test as a warm-up for my upcoming entrance exams. I aced everything with 4s and 5s. The few times I would check her grades? No 4 in sight. I was feeling very good about myself, and I am actually proud of myself for the first time in years. But not without its struggles. I set aside all my personal interests to study all my free time. Nights where I would think of quitting everything and disappearing were frequent. However, Papa would always overhear my silent cries and always knew the exact words that would put me back on my feet again. He and Mama had also found jobs around this time, so we were now the most financially stable we have ever been since the Union's collapse

  Life was starting to look too good again. And on the faithful day of the 26th of March, 1995, what I had been fearing became reality

  A few days earlier, Papa and Mama had gone to Buryatia for a trip with their coworkers. Right before leaving, Papa handed out a bunch of letters??

  Papa?? What are these for, and who are they from?

  "They are from...Tatiana"

  Tat..TATIANA??

  "Yes, sinok. She has been sending letters since 1990. Tatiana often complains about all the struggles of college and its challenges. But. She asks us about you in every letter, and she always has something to say to you."

  Before I could ever respond, Papa said:

  We will be back in a week, Mikola. Never forget that we love you so dearly, keep striving in life, and take care of yourself!!

  Then they went off to the sunset, bound for the west. I had thought to myself, "That was strange."

  I spent the next 2 days thinking about what Papa said. He was talking as if we were saying goodbye forever. But he said he will be back? Why did he hand me Tatiana's letters just now?? What is going on??

  Then, 3 days after they left, while I was studying, a group of people knocked at the door. That was strange. No one was supposed to visit until April? I opened the door and saw 3 police officers standing outside the door??

  They asked:

  "Is this the home of Yegor Aleksandrovich and Anna Petrovna ??

  "It is, they said there was a blonde teenage boy who liv-"

  Yes, this is the home of Yegor Aleksandrovich and Anna Petrovna. I said

  "Oh, god, Vadim!! How are we supposed to tell him??"

  "I don't know!?, You think of something."

  "Uhh, fine. Alright, Mikola Vyachorka-"

  I paid attention closely. Papa's last words echoed in my head, "Take care of yourself!!" Wait, no. no. NO. THIS CANNO-

  "Your parents have been involved in a motor accident. They were rushed to the hospital, and yesterday at 17:23, Yegor Aleksandrovich Vyachorka and Anna Petrovna Vyachorka have unfortunately passed away. I'm sorry, kid."

  I could not believe it. Just 7 years ago, in 1988, I had everything. A home, a loving family, caring friends, and a sense of belonging. But today in 1995, I'm standing in my doorway alone. No parents, no way of communicating with siblings, far from home, no friends, no "real" home, I truly had nothing left.

  What did I do to deserve this?

  Right at that moment, my knees gave up, and I fell to the floor. The sound that came out of me barely sounded human, all the years of loneliness and fear collapsing in one moment. One of the officers must've felt bad for me. Vadim(I assume) walked up to me, and just hugged me for a god knows how long. The other 2 told Vadim to go and that they have other things to do. But Vadim stood there and said, "I'll catch up later, let me offer this kid some comfort". The other 2 left after

  Vadim walked me to the dining table and heard everything I vented out. About my promise, my old life in Borzya, and that good seemed to disappear once it became visible. Looking back decades later, this police officer was an angel sent from god himself. He totally didn't have to go against his own orders and delay his work just to comfort me. In many ways, him hugging me silently reminded me a lot of Mama. But eventually, he said

  "Since you are still legally a child, is there anyone you know who can take care of you? If not, I will make sure you will"

  At this point, there was only one person whom I knew was left, Mandukhai. I remember her taking me to her grandparents multiple times, and they were polar opposites to their granddaughter. Kind, puts others above themselves, and is never unfair

  After building up all the strength I had left, I told him, "Yes, I do have someone I can trust."

  Vadim didn't say anything; he just told me to pack up, get in the car, and he'll drive me to my "new home" now.

  Right when his car took off, I remember looking back at our old apartment, and I thought to myself

  "17 years of life just...gone, just like that. May you 2 rest in peace, Mati and Otets(father in Russian). And I promise, once life improves, I will make you prouder."

  At around 21:00, Vadim and Mikola arrived at Mandukhai's grandparents' farm. Babushka answered the door and was shocked to see me again. The same white boy who had always impressed them with his maturity and mannerisms years ago. Once Vadim told her what had happened, she was devastated. Babushka immediately requested to legally adopt me and take care of me. After having a drink at the farm, Vadim left. But before doing so, he said

  "Mikola, here is my address. I live near the town centre at the department. If you ever need help again, send a letter or visit me. Deal?"

  Deal

  "Alright, good luck!"

  After he drove off, I had a long chat with Babushka and Dedushka. Having some people to talk to felt so refreshing to me. They could tell I was in severe depression from everything, and they also promised to get me back up again. Then, I went upstairs to my new room and saw a familiar person asleep on one of the beds...Oh no. It can't be!

  Thousands of kilometers away in the big cities, the 3 older siblings would receive the news throughout April. Each equally bummed by it. But Tatiana, specifically, gravely worried about Mikola, would send him a letter the next day and offer to adopt him. But because no one lived at the old address anymore, she never got a response. That silence would last for the next 23 years...

  Okay, that's the end of the first chapter. Yeah, I might have made it overly depressing. But, trust me, it will get better next time. I promise