Old Habits Die Hard

Chapter 11
Epilogue

Annika grimaced as she fell, the pavement ripping her tights, scratching up her knees. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to get to her feet, only to get pushed down again.

"{Come on, baby}," the older girl taunted, "{tell us about Ded Moroz again!}"

"{Yeah}," one of the cronies joined in. "{Did you ask him for a new dolly this year?}"

Annika did her best to ignore them. She was used to older kids - she’d always been a very smart girl, skipping grades easily. She was quiet, too, usually keeping her opinions to herself... And yet, she always found herself in this discussion, year after year. Gradually, the counter-points had turned from general uncertainty to outright mockery. She always hoped they would forget it by the next winter, yet they always brought it up, and, no matter how much easier she knew it would make things, she just couldn’t bring herself to lie.

"{Aww, is the baby gonna cry?}", one of the girls mocked. She didn’t, at least not until they’d grown tired of her and let her finish her walk home, and her mother went to work putting alcohol on her scrapes and patching her up, scolding her for once again forgetting her coat at school, telling she she was going to catch pneumonia one of these days. She wasn’t too worried, really - the cold didn’t bother her, and she’d never had so much as a sniffle.

"{Even if you still believe,}" her mother told her, "{You don’t have to tell them that.}"

But Annika didn’t mind. A little extra bullying this time of the year didn’t mean much, not when she knew she was right, especially not tonight.

She finished her homework before supper, then pretended to be tired as they ate so her parents would recommend she went to bed early. She did, though for only a few hours, long enough for them to go to sleep, so she could get dressed. She always tried to look nice, picking out her best dress, carefully polishing her shoes, brushing her hair until her arm got tired, making sure she looked nice for when he arrived, before going into the living room to wait.

"Are you ready?" he asked when he finally got there, shocking her out of her slumber, much to her chagrin. She always tried to stay awake for him, but hadn’t quite made it yet.

She got up off the couch, straightening her dress. "Yes," she said, the word tasting strange and unfamiliar on her tongue now, reaching out for his hand.

The place still gave her the creeps, knowing what lay beyond the walls, despite being sure that, even if they were free, they couldn’t touch her anymore. She stayed closed to his side, trusting his staff to keep her safe, just as it always had. But every year, she grew more afraid it wouldn’t. Every year, her resolution to stay a good girl grew harder and harder, and she found herself wanting to slip back into her old ways. And she did miss the ways things used to be, though not as much now as she had in those early days. Every year, she worried she already had, despite her vigilance, that when he saw her, he would be disappointed in her, he’d see her for what she knew she really was, just an imposter. Finally, they reached the end of the hall, and he tapped on the ice, letting the door swing open.

"Vnushka!" came the voice from inside. She smiled, her fears dissolving, melting inside her like snowflakes, and she rushed inside to give her grandfather a hug.

The End