Home Away From Home | | Self Para
I don't know why I keep feeling pulled back to that day, but it's almost like a tug that's constantly in the back of my mind. All I can think about is his face, pulling out that picture from his pocket and seeing those two little girls... I could swear I felt my heart breaking, but it didn't make sense – because I don't have a heart.
It was Stalingrad Russia, 1942. I found myself wandering between countries and homes, no place to go, and no place to be. I had fought in the previous war, helping out where I could on the allies. I drifted for the longest time afterwards, doing whatever small deeds I could across Europe, helping heal sick and wounded here, passing forgiveness there... It was an empty life and the only time I ever found myself feeling once again was when I was out helping poor and lost souls. I had enlisted there some time after the winter had passed and melted into what they considered spring. I felt pulled there by something I could not explain... All I knew was that there were people suffering great losses and it was my duty to assist.
His name was Yuri. He was a bit older than most of the young faces that I saw, though he was only the age of thirty-six. All of them were so young to me, they seemed like small children around me, being forced to fight in only what I thought angels should have to do. It was war. “Why you're not much more than a pup are you?” I heard the gruff voice from behind me. I turned my head up to the man, standing above me as I sat at the table. “And you're not much more than one yourself.” I responded. He looked at me straight for a moment before his face fell into a smile and he let out a jolly laugh. “A cheeky one are we?” he asked amused as he sat down on the bench across from me, a cup in his hand. “The name's Yuri, you got a name pup?” he asked in the same tone. “Constantine, and I am hardly a pup.” I replied to him, not too fond of what he called me. “Oh don't be such a hard ass, it's just a nickname. It's well to meet you Constantine.”
I don't know how, but we managed to become fast friends after that. We spent many weeks together in training, anticipating the hell all of the men knew was coming. He was a good, honourable man who had a wife and two young girls at home... It hurt to think that he had a family, and for the longest time I tried to avoid the man knowing he would not make it home. Alas, I found he was the closest thing I had to family in a long time.
August 23d the Germans attacked. Much of the city was reduced to rubble after intensive Luftwaffe bombing... Those six months were some of the darkest months I had ever experience in my long life. I spent what time I could offer trying the heal and console while I wasn't on the battlefield. Yuri was known as such a jolly man to me, and over the course of three hellish months I watched that battle twist him and destroy him. I could hear him... He would pray every night to see his family again and part of me wanted to pray with him. It was obvious that no prayers were heard from Stalingrad.
“I got a letter from Katherine today! She says the girls can't wait for me to get back, they miss their papa... Hey Conny!” he whispered to me. I turned my head to him. “Yuri?” He paused for a moment, it appeared as if he was thinking. “You got somebody back home waiting for ya? Oh come on, a strapping lad such as yourself must have a pretty girl waiting.” I simply gave him a confused look that I felt change into something more dour. I didn't respond.”Conny... You got family right?” he asked me, sounding slightly more concerned. I looked away from him for a moment, feeling myself slip into a more saddened state... “No, not anymore. I had many brothers, and a father too... but they left me on my own.” I tucked my hand under my pillow, trying not to look at him. “Well we're brothers aren't we?” I felt my brows knit together as I gave him a strange look. “Why sure we are! You're my little brother Constantine! The cheeky little bastard that keeps me company and take care of me... When we get back home, oh boy we're going to have some good times Conny. Katherine will cook for us, and the girls would absolutely love their uncle Conny! Just you wait my friend, I can see that the dark times are going to pass...” That next night we were attacked and Yuri fell on the battlefield, a bullet in his chest.
I didn't have the strength to heal him, in fact it was a wonder that i was even still standing after all the strain I had endured that long and dark day. I ran over to him and held him in my arms, bullets whizzing by and the world around me sounded like a low hum from all of the war. His face was dirty, and his hands now soaked with his own blood. Yuri reached up to me and grabbed my shoulder with one hand while grasping on to mine with the other. He smiled up at me, though he had such heavy tears in his fading eyes... “Hey pup...” he stuttered out, coughing after he spoke. His lips stained with blood and dirt. “It's Constantine...” I replied, trying to force a smile of my own. “Don't be such a hard ass, it's just a nickname.” he said with a husky laugh. I found my smile twisting... scrunching up my face as my eyes began to blur... I could feel hot tears running down my cold cheeks... This was the second time I had cried in my entire life... “Hey, hey... Now don't you go softening up on me Conny.” he stated softly. I could feel his grip tighten. After what felt like days of silence he let out a sob, his face twisting to match mine. “Now you listen closely Conny... You need to make it outa this... You need to find my family, you hear?” he whimpered. Yuri let go of my hand and pulled a picture from his coat with a shaky hand... “That's them Conny... Now you gotta find them and tell them I love them. You gotta tell the girls that daddy's sorry he left...” I found myself letting out a loud cry. He toughened his face and grabbed mine in his hand. “I need you to be strong for me now Conny... We're brothers remember..?” I nodded to him, unable to speak. Yuri gave me a faint smile... the last smile I would ever see on his face. “You don' good brother...” he whispered to me. His hands released from my shaking body. He was gone.
I still have that picture. I keep it with me wherever I go... I look at it and feel my chest tighten, knowing that it is the second family I've lost to war.