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Here’s chapter three of my WIP Overcome if anyone’s interested!
Any feedback you might have is very welcome! 😀
Glossary of Terms:
kasha- hot breakfast cereal made from buckwheat
Tato- Ukrainian word for Dad
Odessa, Mariupol’, Kharkiv, Dnipro, and Kyyiv- Ukrainian cities
Slava Ukraine- Glory to Ukraine, a patriotic term
Chapter Three: February 24, 2022
Kakhovka, Ukraine
NataliyaOutside, strange rumbles pulse low and menacing beneath the usual city noises as I rub my eyes and sleepily wonder what time it is. Shifting my position under the sheets, I check my phone and plug it into the charger beside my bed. The vibrations fade, my mind clears, and I swing my feet to the thinly carpeted floor.
The soft, emerald green sweater I pull over my school clothes reminds me of a hug, making my heart warm as I head to the kitchen. I notice the morning quiet pervading the house while spooning leftover kasha into a bowl and sticking it into the microwave.
The buckwheat cereal comes out brown and steaming, little bubbles forming at the edges of the bowl. I dash a bit of milk and sugar on it, grab a spoon and take a seat. As I savor the first bite, my parent’s bedroom door opens and Tato shuffles into the room, opening the window next to the couch and leaning out, breathing deeply. I watch him carefully, my nose wrinkling at the aromas of snow and diesel fuel layered in the frigid air.
When the milk on my spoon wobbles, I stare at it hard. A tiny shock surges through my bones, then disappears. I hope I’m not getting sick. Tato finally closes the window, but he stands near it still, staring out across the drab buildings and strip of trees to the river.
I finish eating and am about to stuff my sketches and pencils into my backpack when Tato comes over and picks up one of my papers. When he puts it down, I see it is the drawing of the girl smelling flowers. “Lyaksandro scribbled in the cup and tree,” I say, embarrassed.
“It is good, Nataliya.” I feel Tato’s hand on my hair as he bends over to brush my forehead with his lips. “You have some real talent.” I smile, but grow confused when I notice his tight forehead and worried eyes.
Going over to the corner, my father heaves on his thick coat and hat, then stuffs his feet into a pair of faded boots. I wonder if he’s tired of working long days at the Kakhovka Power Plant next to the Dnipro river.
“Nataliya.” Tato’s tone is hard, his back to me.
“Yes?”
“You didn’t see the news?”
I feel for my phone. “Oh…no. My phone’s charging. Guess I better get it.”
He turns, and the look in his eyes stops me. “I wouldn’t get too worried,” he says quickly, his voice telling me the opposite. “It could be worse.”
“What?” I hesitate, then add with a tremor, “Has somebody died?”
“Many people will die. Ukraine has been invaded. We are at war. Some places were hit with airstrikes this morning.”
“By who?” Panic chokes my throat.
I barely catch his muttered oath and interpret it to mean the only thing he ever uses that language for.
The Russian military.
“Are they done bombing? What’s going to happen?” I blurt out, confused.
Even as I speak, my bones vibrate and deep, solemn waves of sound come from the other side of the window. As the realization hits me that I’ve been feeling the shock waves from explosions, I frantically toss my backpack to the floor. “I’m not going to school.”
Tato whirls. “They won’t come here. You’re going to school just like everyone else. Please don’t make a big fuss. I don’t want Lyaskandro getting scared.”
“How can I not? What are you going to tell him?” I fidget, my voice rising. “How far away are they? I can feel it!”
“Nataliya!” Tato snaps wearily. “Everything’s all right. Odessa is five hours away. Mariupol’ is about nine. Those are the closest places they’ve attacked. They won’t come here,” he repeats.
“Where else? Is that all?”
“Kharkiv. Dnipro.” He pauses. “Kyyiv.”
“Kyyiv?!”
Under his breath he says, “Yes. The capitol of Ukraine is under attack.”
“Tato,” I exclaim, pressing my sweaty palms together. “Are we going to leave?”
“If it gets too bad we’ll go to Kirovohrad. But we won’t have to. They won’t come here,” he replies stubbornly, his jaw clenched. “They can’t touch my family.”
~~~~~~
The streets are crowded with westward bound cars and buses as Lyaksandro and I walk to school. Piotr speeds ahead of us on his new bike and my shoulders tense now that he’s no longer with us. I glance around warily.
“Really Nataliya? Are you sure?”
Lyaksandro can be so annoying. “Yes, it was all over the news,” I repeat for this third time.
“Why didn’t they come here so I could shoot them?” He demands, stomping on the cracked cement sidewalk.
“I don’t know. I’m glad they didn’t,” I reply wearily, shuffling my feet. I have half a mind to turn around and go home, but since Mama leaves for her bakery job soon, we’d be alone. Being alone in the house could be worse than going to school, especially if the Russians do come.
“One thing I don’t understand is, if Tato wants to keep us safe, why’s he sending us to school like this? He didn’t even let Mama get a word in edgewise.” My words fall into empty air, since my brother’s head is still in video game mode.
He trudges along beside me, huffing and furrowing his dark eyebrows under his winter hat. His balled fists and curled lips remind me of of Tato. “Relax silly,” I tell him dryly.
His dark eyes flash. “I will never relax. Russians taking over our land.” He uses a vulgar word and I wince.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? Tato does.” He says it again, watching me daringly.
“Lyaksandro!” I raise my voice.
He jumps. “Sorry. What’s so bad about it anyway?”
“It’s nasty and it’s not something that Christians say.” Under my breath I add, “I wish Tato wouldn’t say it.”
“Why doesn’t God like it?” he asks innocently.
“It’s disrespectful. Don’t you listen in church? Maybe you’re too young to understand,” I muse.
“Aw, come on. Too young. That’s what everybody always says. I understand.” He changes the subject instantly, making a face at the road and the line of cars. “They’re cowards, running away. I’m glad we’re not like that.”
My eyes dart over the scene, finding all the faces. Some look scared, others worried, and quite a few hold a phone to their ear and seem to be talking excitedly. “We might have to leave too, if it gets dangerous,” I say.
Lyaksandro hunches his shoulders into the wind and sniffs defiantly at the world as we enter the school courtyard and part ways. I follow my brother with my eyes until I see him disappear into the right entrance before joining a few students from my class who dawdle on the steps. There is none of the usual laughter or mile-long chatter. The atmosphere is tense, punctured with car horns from the crawling traffic.
I glance around, fingering my coat zipper. “Is there even school today?”
Vlad looks at his shoes and Eva shrugs, not meeting my gaze. Aleksandra smiles way too bright, then sighs and bites her lip. The only one who answers me is Ivan, the most intimidating guy in the whole school.
“If you wanna get shot up, then stay here today. Mark my words, there will be Russians here by noon.” He leaps off the steps and jogs away.
The rest of us fidget nervously. “Do you believe him?” Eva whimpers.
“Sounds plausible,” Vlad growls. “You girls going home? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“Thanks Vlad,” Aleksandra’s laugh goes flat. “I’m not staying here.”
“Without teachers, school is the worse place ever,” Eva whines.
“It’s not their fault,” Vlad shoots back. “Well, see you…” he stops and looks at us meaningfully.
“Uh…yeah, see you…tomorrow,” Aleksandra tries bravely.
Vlad shakes his head. “Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever. Listen,” he lowers his voice. “They’re coming here. Maybe by eleven o’clock. My dad saw warnings on the news.”
“My Tato said not to worry and that they won’t come here,” I venture.
“You can’t think like that. My family’s been stocking up and barricading the basement for days. We’re going to defend our home,” he says proudly.
“Is this really happening again?” Eva wails, her face crumpling.
I shiver, remembering snippets of the stories she has told us. Eva and her family moved from the Donbas region in 2014 when she was just a shy ten year old, and she knows what war with Russia means first hand.
“Yes. There’s no use denying it. But we’ll win strong, you’ll see,” Vlad says forcefully. He walks down the steps. “You’ll see!” When he reaches the gate he turns. “Slava Ukraine!” he yells.
We look at each other and yell back, “Slava Ukraine!”
“Goodbye Nataliya. See you soon, I promise,” Aleksandra smiles. She gives me a fist pump and heads off, Eva following with a wave.
“You coming?” she asks.
“Yes…but I have to get my brother first,” I call, pointing to his building.
They nod and keep going. My heart pounds and I glance at the empty school yard nervously. Something I told Lyaksandro this morning wasn’t quite true. Mama had got a word in edgewise.
“Take care of him. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
I can still feel the tickle of her lips on my ear.
~~~~~~~
A few children burst out the door as I reach it, followed by a gray-haired teacher. “Be careful!” she yells shakily. “Any parent who sends their child to school today is crazy,” she says pointedly when she sees me.
I try to ignore her remark. “I’m looking for my brother,” I breath heavily.
“Are you his Mom?” she snaps.
“No, his sister. Did you send him home already?”
She shrugs. “Maybe, I don’t know. He’s not in my class.” She turns and goes back inside and I follow her, almost tripping on her heels. “Do you know his room number?”
“Twelve, I think,” I glance down the dark hall, puzzled.
The woman sends a cutting glance behind her. “Electricity’s gone. Here it is,” she pushes open the door.
I peer past her into a room filled with empty desks, shadows, and a container of markers strewn across the floor. “Lyaksandro!” My voice is loud in the silence.
“Not in here,” the teacher decides, closing the door. “He probably went home. I’ve been sending everyone back and I need to get back myself.” She walks briskly towards the exit. “My husband is leaving and it may be the last time I’ll get to pack him a lunch.”
“Where’s he going?” I blurt.
The woman’s gray hair glitters in the cold sunlight as she locks the school entrance. She concentrates hard. “He’s going to fight,” she whispers.
“To fight? He must be…” I pause, not wanting to be rude. “He must be older.”
The teacher’s face grows firm. “President Zelensky said all men aged eighteen to sixty should help fight if they can. Even if my…” her voice chokes, “…my Sergiy was eighty years old he would still fight. He loves his country.”
I reach out and touch her arm. “He must be an amazing man. But I thought our military…”
“There’s not enough soldiers,” she raises her head firmly. “Why else would they ask the old grandpas to fight?” She shakes her head and hurries toward the road.
Sympathy wells up in my chest, but when my mind turns to my own family’s future, panic drowns it out. I break into a run towards home.
He must increase, but I must decrease.
woah!! That was amazing! I would love to read the entire book when or if you publish! I’m hooked 😊.
Lyaksandro hunches his shoulders into the wind and sniffs defiantly at the world as we enter the school courtyard and part ways.
So many of your people descriptions are just on point! I never would have used, “sniffed defiantly at the world” but I understand exactly what he did and the attitude it portrays. Also, I absolutely LOVE your charries! What’s going to happen next?! 😳
"And so I left this world just as I had entered it. Confused."
Wow.
The characters, the setting, everything in this story makes what’s going on so real. Puts the people you just hear about right in front of you. Dziękuję Ci. Спасибо, мой друг.
First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
Fork the Gorkwoah!! That was amazing! I would love to read the entire book when or if you publish! I’m hooked 😊.
That’s great!! I mean, it sounds violent, but I’m glad you’re hooked! 😀
So many of your people descriptions are just on point! I never would have used, “sniffed defiantly at the world” but I understand exactly what he did and the attitude it portrays.
Thank you!! I’m glad it made sense! Yeah, that’s Lyaksandro for you, sniffing defiantly at the whole world! I’ll admit it’s unique, but hopefully most people will understand what I mean. 😀
What’s going to happen next?! 😳
Well, the next chapter is back to the Polish girl’s POV, so…I’ll post soon, don’t worry 🙂
Thanks for the feedback! You are so encouraging!!!
He must increase, but I must decrease.
Thank you. I’m humbled to be able to bring what’s happening to a more personal level. I believe there’s so many stories to be told and many things we can learn from the people who live through these things.
Oh you wrote po polsku!!!!!!!!!!!
Nie ma za co!!! (Literally translated: There’s nothing to be thankful for. But it means you’re welcome.) Пожалуйста! Ты самый лучший!
He must increase, but I must decrease.
Oh my gosh girl!!! That chapter was soooo good 😊❤️👍!! I loved it!! But oh no, what happens to Lyaksandro?!?! I must know 😂!! But omg girl, I absolutely loved it!! Great job!!
#HugRikerSquad
Yeah! Happy to be of encouragement!
"And so I left this world just as I had entered it. Confused."
I’m thrilled you’re enjoying it!!!! THANK YOU!
Oh, Lyaksandro? You don’t have to worry about him…yet. 😉
He must increase, but I must decrease.
I’m thrilled you’re enjoying it!!!! THANK YOU!
Yes!! YOU’RE SO WELCOME!!!
Oh, Lyaksandro? You don’t have to worry about him…yet. 😉
Oh, no 😨! You gotta warn me when I do need to worry about him 😭😨😅
#HugRikerSquad
Oh, no 😨! You gotta warn me when I do need to worry about him 😭😨😅
Are you sure you’ll want me to? It might spoil it… 😉
He must increase, but I must decrease.
Are you sure you’ll want me to? It might spoil it… 😉
Well…I guess not. I’ll just prepare myself. 😭😅
#HugRikerSquad
- Rank: Wise Jester
- Total Posts: 76
Wowzers! You have real talent with all that research you must be doing. The inner conflict from the start – hating to go to Mass – draws a reader in. That conflict is kind of pushed aside in a reader’s mind when it comes to the war, but I’m guessing that won’t be the end of it.
This is a new twist on historical fiction – modern times. I feel like they can sometimes be forgotten. I really like that perspective. Great job!!
@booksandbeakers
Thank you! I wasn’t sure how to write about modern Europe because I don’t live there and my normal life is a lot different then theirs, but I took it slow and researched as I went. That’s probably not the best strategy, but that’s what works for me. 🙂
I’m glad you felt the religious conflict. Yes, Ludwika does continue to struggle with what to believe as her Mom pushes the Catholic faith, and *spoiler* one of her friends turns out to be an Evangelical Christian. I think this plot point is subtle in the beginning but will deepen later on as she tries to understand faith, prayer and who God is in the context of the war around her. (I’m really excited to write that part). I’m going to try to stay away from making it a Catholic vr. Protestant thing and more of a learning about God through His Word type of resolution, because I think denominations can be distracting and confusing sometimes and I want my readers to realize the most important thing: not a denomination or certain doctrine but Jesus Christ and the Gospel as presented in the Bible.
What do you think? Do you have any thoughts on how I could make this tension better, or how I should portray it?
He must increase, but I must decrease.
- Rank: Wise Jester
- Total Posts: 76
Oh, okay… one of her friends is an Evangelical Christian. *plot thickens* I think when you introduce her, maybe mention her relationship with Ludwika’s mom. Does she resent the friend because she’s being influential to her daughter in ways she doesn’t appreciate? Maybe you already have that figured out…
I think your approach about the Gospel and not Catholic v. Protestanism is appropriate. If you did that the controversy between denominations, it would take away from the point, confuse the reader, and perhaps drive them away from your book. I personally might have presented it slightly differently, but I respect your decision. If you can really get the unbelieving reader interested in Christ and the Bible, they can decide for themselves whether they are Catholic or Protestant. One of my goals is to glorify God in all I do in writing, and I think KP’s mission mirrors that.
Great job so far! I can’t wait to read more!!
Wow @felicity!!
What you have so far is stunning! Like some others on here, I don’t usually read contemporary fiction, but this has really caught my eye and I hope you’ll post more!! I would read this as a novel in a heartbeat.
My only caution would be this: make sure you’re relatively clear with readers what position the War is in. You’ve done a pretty good job of that so far, but I have the feeling it would get easy to be confused later on as things progress. I think it would be fine to have a little cloudiness (after all, the people going through it didn’t exactly know what stage things were in, either 😉 but you don’t want readers to feel lost.
Awesome job!! Thanks for posting!
"To death or to victory"
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