The clock on the man’s watch in the corner of the train read 10 am sharp. I had three hours to make it to Moscow and no way was I going to be able to rest on the way. The train was rocky and unpredictable on the snow covered mountains. Every time we passed through a tunnel I was worried we would be hit by an avalanche thats how snow packed it was. I held onto my brown stuffed bear that was given to me by my educator or my aunt (Tyotya Klara) for my eleventh birthday. I was dressed in a plain wool dress and an old cardigan with stretched sleeves. However my boots were too big, the laces uneven, and the scarf was thin against the cold. Everything I owned had come from the foster home and the educator would buy things for me. She was kind and caring, so when I had to pack my bags again I felt heartbroken to leave her. She was the only one I knew by heart and could be close to. I would miss her wherever I went. She gave me warm clothes and pajamas to wear to bed. Silky dress for Sundays and a playdress for picnics and playdates. I wouldn’t say I ever went to things like that often but when I did I made sure I had fun. Families were always cruel and strict. So when I finally got removed and sent back I felt so relieved. Why did everyone I thought would be good to me ever be either kind but soon feel overwhelmed with me or treat me unfairly and call me ugly. It became me to stay quiet and numb, but when I had Klara I felt nothing could ever excite me more.

She was my protector and my best friend.

She was the only family I really ever had.

A sudden jolt from the trains wheels turning against the snowy ground almost sent me up out of my seat. I had to stop sitting weirdly and just sit the normal way a girl should. However I felt comfortable letting myself enjoy the room with no one else to bother me so when I had it I took the opportunity to lay down vertically across the seating.

I had so many ways to think about this family being better than the last. Hope was my motivation and my strength. I thanked Klara for teaching me verses in her Bible. She sung me to sleep when I was waiting my last destination. And would always wake up sad I had to leave her once again.

I started to tear up looking out of the window and around the snowy hills. A white rabbit sprung from the burrow it made and hopped into the deep woods. I relaxed and settled back into my seat.

The train was two hours and thirty minutes away from Moscow now. And in that time I received a newspaper from the passenger assistant walking the cars to deliver snacks and beverages.

I wasn’t supposed to know how to read. None of us were really taught. There was no school, no chalkboard, no real lessons. But Tyotya Klara had shown me in quiet moments late in the evening, when the littler ones were asleep, or during chores when our hands were busy. She used old food labels, scraps of paper, anything with letters. She said if I could read, I could understand things people didn’t say out loud. So I kept at it, sounding out words in my head until they made sense. I didn’t know everything, but I knew enough. Enough to notice when something felt wrong. Like today. Something in the paper made my stomach twist, even before I read the full sentence.

“New regulations require all foster children to be inspected monthly. Children who fail inspections will face disciplinary measures.” I stared at the words. “Fail” wasn’t a word I liked. It made me feel like if you didn’t do things perfectly, they could just… punish you. Like we weren’t kids anymore, but something to check on and fix. I didn’t know exactly what “inspections” meant, but it didn’t sound good. It made me feel small, like we were just things that needed to be checked over to make sure we were okay for someone else. I folded the paper and set it down. The more I thought about it, the more it felt wrong. It wasn’t about helping kids like me. It was like we were just being used, and if we didn’t fit, we were thrown out. That thought made my heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure what I could do about it, but I knew one thing: I didn’t want to be part of that system. I didn’t want to be something that needed to be fixed.

My chest felt tight. I sat still for a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the words in the paper. It made my hands shake a little. What if they thought I failed? What if they wanted to fix me too? I didn’t want to wait and find out. I stood up fast and grabbed my bag. I didn’t have much—just a scarf, my coat, a few things Tyotya Klara had given me. My hands fumbled as I picked them up. I didn’t even tie my coat right. I just had to get out of there. The train moved steady under my feet as I opened the small door to the next car. I pushed through, the wind rushing in for a moment, loud and cold. I kept walking fast. I didn’t care where I was going. I just didn’t want to be in that car anymore. I didn’t want to be where they could find me. Then—thump. I crashed right into someone. He stumbled back, and so did I. For a second, I just stared. He was a boy, maybe a little older than me. Blonde hair, a little messy. He looked just as surprised as I felt. “Whoa,” he said, rubbing his arm. “Are you okay?” I nodded, but I could feel my eyes stinging. I didn’t want to cry, but everything was catching up to me. The paper, the words, the fear. He looked around, then gently said, “You shouldn’t be walking between the cars like that. Come on, it’s warmer in here.” I followed him without speaking. We stepped into a small train room with two beds, a little shelf, and a window. He sat on the lower bed and looked at me again. “What happened?” he asked. I sat down slowly, holding my bag tight in my lap. “I read something. In the paper,” I said, voice small. “It said they’re going to start checking on kids in foster homes. And if we don’t pass, they’ll punish us.” He didn’t laugh or look confused. He just listened. “I don’t know what passing even means,” I said, blinking fast. “I don’t want to be fixed. I didn’t do anything wrong.” He was quiet for a second. Then he said, “What’s your name?” “Elena.” “I’m Victor,” he said. “And I believe you.” That’s when the tears finally came. But not because I was scared. This time, it was because someone actually listened.

I wiped my nose with my sleeve and dug around in my bag. The paper was crumpled now, a little greasy from my snack, but I pulled it out and held it toward him. “Can you read this part?” I asked, pointing to the line that had made my stomach twist. “Just to make sure I got it right.” Victor took it, raised his eyebrows, and squinted a little. “You read this?” he asked, looking at me like I’d just built the train we were sitting in. I sniffed. “Yes.” “All of it?” “Just that part.” He smiled, leaning back slightly. “You sure you’re not twelve and a half?” I almost smiled too. “I’m eleven.” He nodded like that explained everything. “Impressive,” he said. Then he looked at the words again and read them aloud, slower this time. “‘Children who fail inspections will face disciplinary measures.’ Yep. That’s what it says.” He looked up at me. “Sounds like they want to turn you into robots.” “That’s what I thought,” I said quietly. Victor folded the paper and handed it back. “Well, don’t worry. You passed my inspection.” I blinked. “What inspection?” He shrugged. “You know. Not crying too loud. Not falling out of the train. Not stealing my food. You’re doing pretty well so far.” I finally smiled. Just a little. Victor leaned back on the bed, hands behind his head. “You can stay here until you stop being scared. I don’t mind. I wasn’t even supposed to come to this school anyway.” “Why are you going, then?” I asked. He shrugged. “Papa said it would ‘make a man out of me.’ But I like being a boy just fine.” I laughed, even though I was still a little sad. It felt good. Like for a moment, everything scary outside this room had stayed behind.

I sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, my bag still in my lap. “Do you think they’ll come looking for me?” Victor tilted his head like he was thinking. “Probably. But this is a big train. Lots of cars. You could hide in the luggage rack if you curl up small enough.” I frowned. “That sounds terrible.” He grinned. “Yeah. It would be. That’s why you can stay here.” I looked around his small room. It was neater than I thought a boy’s room would be. A coat hung on the wall hook, and there was a book sitting on the windowsill. “Is that yours?” I pointed at the book. He nodded. “It’s boring. I only brought it because Mama said it would make me smarter.” “Did it work?” He made a face. “Not even a little.” I giggled. “Well… I think you’re smart.” Victor gave me a half-smile. “You read a government paper. I think you’re the smart one.” We sat in silence for a little while. The train clacked and rumbled beneath us, steady and strong. I could still feel the tight knot in my chest, but it was looser now. It helped to talk. It helped that he didn’t make fun of me or say I was just a kid. “I really don’t want to go back,” I said. “You don’t have to,” he said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “If you want, we can just jump off this train together.” My eyes widened. “You’re kidding.” He raised his hands. “Mostly. Sort of. Maybe not.” I stared at him, not sure if I should laugh or be scared. “We’d break our legs.” “Not if we jump into hay. Or snow. Or a river.” “There’s no river.” “Well then,” he said, sitting up straighter, “we wait for hay or snow.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re strange.” He shrugged. “So are you. That’s why we get along.” Outside the window, the gray Russian sky stretched on forever. The trees blurred past. Somewhere far away, a whistle blew. And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel alone.

Victor was already moving. He grabbed his coat from the hook and stuffed the tin of candies into his pocket. “We’ll need to be quick,” he said, glancing out the window. “Can’t look like we’re sneaking.” I pulled my bag onto my shoulder. My hands were shaky, but I tightened the strap so it wouldn’t fall. “Where do we go?” “There’s a service door,” he said. “Near the back of the car. It leads to the space between this car and the luggage one. Not many people go there.” I nodded, even though my stomach flipped. The train clattered beneath us like it knew what we were planning. Victor peeked out into the hallway, then motioned with his hand. “Come on. Before the coat-smelling man shows up.” I followed him quickly, head down, the way Klara had taught me to walk when I didn’t want to be noticed. Quiet shoes, soft steps. My heart pounded in my ears. We slipped past the compartments, past the old lady with the squeaky knitting bag, past the boy chewing on the end of a pencil, past a curtain that didn’t fully close. Victor stopped at a narrow metal door near the end of the car. He tugged it slowly. It creaked. “Shh,” I whispered. “I am shushing it,” he whispered back. The wind howled the second he opened it. Cold air rushed in, snapping at our coats. I grabbed Victor’s arm. He turned his head, hair whipping. “It’s now or never, Elena.” My eyes stung, but I nodded. And we stepped out onto the narrow platform, hearts pounding, one hour before the station—one hour before anyone would come looking.

Victor gripped the rail with one hand and held mine with the other. “Okay,” he shouted over the wind, “we wait for something soft.” “What if soft never comes?” He looked at me, squinting. “Then we do something stupid anyway.” I gave him a sharp look. “Don’t say that word.” “What, stupid?” “Yes. It sounds like something a loose boy says.” Victor blinked, then snorted. “A loose boy?” “That’s what Klara used to call boys who chewed on matchsticks and kicked trees.” “Well, I only kick trees when they start it.” I almost smiled. Almost. But the wind was cold, and the sky had that gray look it gets when things are about to go wrong. Victor leaned out. “Snowbank!” he called. “Off to the right, after the turn!” I saw it too—a slope of white just beyond the trees. But then, behind us, the door creaked. I turned just enough to see a man’s face poking out from one of the compartments, his eyes landing on us. His coat was pressed, his hat crooked from where he’d rushed to look. He wasn’t yelling yet—but his mouth had that tight, angry shape. “Victor,” I whispered. He didn’t need to ask why. “Three!” he shouted. “Don’t count out loud!” “Too late!” The man stepped forward. “Two!” “Victor!” “One!” We jumped—just as the man’s hand shot out toward us. But we were already in the air. Already gone.

The world tilted as we fell, the wind tearing at my clothes, a rush of panic building in my chest. I didn’t have time to think—only to hope. My feet hit the snowbank first, and the world jolted beneath me. My legs buckled, but I managed to stay upright, stumbling forward into the deep snow. The cold hit like a slap, but it was better than landing on rocks or hard earth. Victor landed beside me with a soft grunt, his coat puffing out with the impact. We both scrambled to our feet, hearts pounding. Behind us, I heard the man’s voice calling out, muffled but sharp. He must’ve realized by now that we were gone. His words didn’t make sense—something about a breach of rules. But there wasn’t time to listen. There never was. We didn’t look back. Not yet. Victor grabbed my hand, his grip tight. “We run. Now.” I nodded, barely able to catch my breath. We ran, our feet sloshing in the thick snow, the cold biting at our faces and hands. Every step felt like it weighed a ton, but we couldn’t stop. Behind us, the sound of the train’s whistle grew fainter. And fainter. Until it disappeared. But so did the man’s shouting. I risked a glance over my shoulder, half expecting to see him barreling toward us through the snow. But there was nothing—not a soul in sight. “Victor…” I panted, pulling my coat tighter. “Are we free?” He looked down at me, his face pale but determined. “Not yet. But we’re getting closer.” Closer to what? I didn’t know yet. I wasn’t sure I cared. We just needed to get far away from that train. Far away from the rules, the people who decided who we were, where we should go, and what we could dream. “Where to?” I asked. Victor paused for a moment, glancing at the snow-covered forest ahead. “Somewhere they won’t find us. Somewhere we can breathe.” And with that, we kept running.

We walked through the snow, the cold creeping into my bones, but I didn’t mind. There was something about the stillness of the night, the way the trees stood silent, that made everything feel distant. Like we were far enough away from the chaos now. Maybe that was why I didn’t feel as nervous anymore. Victor’s grip on my hand was firm, guiding me through the darkness. We moved quietly, but with purpose. It was only when I saw the flicker of light in the distance that my heart skipped a beat. I almost thought it was another trick of the night, the snow playing with my eyes, but as we kept walking, the light grew clearer, more real. Victor stopped in his tracks, his eyes already fixed on the glow. “Do you see that?” he asked, a slight grin on his face. I nodded, my voice soft with disbelief. “A town?” “A town,” he confirmed, and he looked almost relieved. “We’re almost there.” The excitement bubbling inside of me almost made me forget how tired I was. The thought of real people, buildings, warmth… It felt like a dream after so long in the wilderness. We picked up our pace, moving toward the light, the trees finally opening up to reveal a small street lined with old houses. The lamps outside each house gave off a soft yellow glow, cutting through the thick darkness like little beacons. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the quiet of the town felt more like a lullaby than a threat. Victor glanced at me as we walked into the town, his eyes calm but cautious. “We’re good here. No one’s going to find us tonight.” The street was quiet, the only sounds our footsteps crunching in the snow. The houses were small but looked lived-in, warm. There was no need to hide, no need to run. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief settle over me. We were here. Safe for now. “I think we can stay here,” Victor said after a few moments. “We can find a place to rest, maybe even get some food. People here probably won’t be too concerned about us.” I nodded, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. It was hard to explain, but the town felt different. It wasn’t the cold, empty wilderness we’d been running through for days. This felt… normal. We passed a small shop with a warm light glowing from inside. The window was slightly fogged up, and I could see someone moving around inside. The sight made my stomach growl, but I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the time for that yet. Victor led me down the street, his hand still holding mine tightly but without the tension it had carried earlier. “We’ll be fine here,” he repeated, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s just find a place to settle for the night.” We kept moving, the town wrapping around us like a safe cocoon, offering us the quiet we needed. The buildings seemed to close in around us, welcoming us as we walked. It felt like we’d finally found a little piece of peace. I couldn’t help but smile a little, even though I knew we weren’t out of the woods completely. But right now, the town felt like enough. It was the first time in what felt like forever that I could stop running, just for a little while. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like we might actually be okay.

The first house we came to was an old red shutter structure aged with years of weather damage from the cold wind, but even though it looked quite erie we needed shelter and we had to ask around. An old lady opened the door for us her scary glare made us want to turn away but the second she realized it was two lost children she couldn’t push us away. It was love to bring in the sick and needed, it was our way of being a community. Victor still held my hand and he didnt let go until she sat us down in front of a nice roaring fireplace with warm tea. We had to ask her where we were and she said we were at Baikal-Amur Mainline. A small snowy village in northern Siberia.

My voice shook when I realized how far we had run. Victor gave me a comforting look, noticing my anxiety.

He clasped my hand in his once again and I felt so comforted in that moment. Our lives would change now and we didnt know what would happen. The id tags on our coats were brought to her attention finally and she realized we were headed far east to a boarding school and the other to a foster home. She first looked angry that we had taken a dangerous jump to escape whatever juncture we would be land in but after hearing our side of the story she sympathized with us. She understood our situation and was able to recognize we werent going back no matter what. She saw our worry and told us she would stand for us when the time ever came. She loved children. She had been so lonely ever since her child died in an avalanche many years back, now she was almost 60. “I must let you two rest now, you both must be so tired,” She said.

We were directed to the small room upstairs the staircase was tight but it was not difficult to step up. A small bed was already made for us. A small teddybear in between the pillows gave us a sense of security in that moment. Once we were left alone we stared up at the ceiling and started to talk about our situation more I asked about his dad and he asked about my foster situation. He heard how worried I sounded and held my hand once more and pressed his lips against the back of it. I closed my eyes and felt a sense of swill and peace in his kiss. He looked up at me and kept a serious face on but he didn’t want to make me feel any sadder. “Elena… thank you for coming with me and jumping with me.”

He smirked

Rolled her eyes again.

Rolled her eyes still keeping her hand there

The next morning Elena woke up first her face hidden behind Victors back. She moved embarrassed of her sleeping position. But kept her body inside the covers. She was weak and sore and she felt a fever come on. She started to feel scared all of sudden and her tears were no question. She started to tear up and sob in her pillow.

Victor woke up with a concerned look at how she was feeling after looking over her shoulder and hearing quiet sobs.

He knew she was not alright - so he turned her back to him and looked at her he gently wiped her tears and noticed how much she had been crying. However once his hands felt her forhead he noticed her burning up in sweats.

He quickly got up from the bed and ran to get the lady that welcomed them in that night, her name, Karina.

She came in and let Elena take her temperature and gave her cough medicine and fever medicine.

Karina placed a heated bag by her feet to bring her temperature down.

Victor stayed with her and held her hand once more and kept it there until she stopped shaking and had fallen asleep.

His please was not of asking but of concern and worry for Elenas health and healing.

The love he had for her came quickly with a swift kiss on the lips. He was already smitten. Young love was fast but more pure and sincere.

It came innocently

He kept saying my name in a whisper

Who knew someone so young had a way with romance and love

He didnt learn it from his dad i know that for sure

He kept whispering for me to get better

His head was now against mine

He stayed there all night

But i only remember him changing the wet rags on my head twice and then i only remember falling sleep in his arms

Why was he so romantic

I was only eleven

I only knew of romance from my teacher and parents

No one else educated on what loving someone so intimately could possibly mean

Victor had it in spades

He knew how to make me feel like I was in a farytale

One i read in books where princesses are swept off their feet by their prince

I guess mine came early

I had no idea he would be the one to love me forever and ever

He was so excited to see me awake in the morning and he was the one who fed me onion soup

After that I stayed in a hug with his warm arms around me

He gave Elena a gift of a doll he crocheted with Karinas help

She thanked him and gave him a kiss on the cheek

He grinned from cheek to cheek at her thanks and smiled the whole time she looked at his gift

“Elena, I know we just met but I want to be your boyfriend.”

His innocent joy at her answer made him smile with celebration and confidence and his arm had made a motion of success