Why does it always have to be so friggen cold?
The snowstorm had long since died but the snow was still piled up. You were barely able to get to work only to find the boss had called off work. Now, freezing cold, you were unable to get on a bus (all the roads being snowed in) and had to walk a mile through a foot of snow.
Trudging on, you met with something solid buried under the snow, sending you down to your face. Grumbling, you got up, ready to kick what tripped you when you noticed a scarf and coat. Quickly digging in the snow, you found a little boy beneath the white, he face eerily similar to that of the snow.
He was undoubtably alive, breaths coming in and out shallowly. But at this rate, not for much longer. Your home wasn't far so you moved as quickly as permitted in such harsh weather. He was pulled closer to you, maybe the warmth may be to his benefit.
As you trudged along, you noticed blood on his cloths along with bruises and cuts on his skin, dried blood surrounding some, others beginning to heal. The person who threw him out apparently didn't want him back and you were more than happy to bring the poor child in.
Obviously it would be a lot of work raising a child by yourself, but every child deserved a warm home. Unlocking the door went by rather quickly and you ran into the living room, letting the boy rest on the couch as you frantically gathered things you'd need from around the house.
Coming back, you began to remove his wet cloths so that you could throw them in the wash. You quickly threw some warm, dry cloths on him, making sure he was snug in them. Looking at his face, you gawked at the innocent face. His nose was rather bulbous and his cheeks were chubby like a baby's.
You cleaned off his cuts and bandaged those that looked worse off than others. Every now and then, he would flinch in pain every time you touched his left shoulder so you decided to sling it.
His body was a lightweight when you picked him up. You brought him close, rubbing his shoulders while trying to keep him warm. After a short while, you carried him to your room to tuck him under the sheets.
Going back to your living room, you took the soaked cloths and placed them in the washer to clean them off. By the time you returned to the main room of your house, the little boy was standing there, swaying in his spot.
You rushed to his side, picking you up in his arms,"What's wrong sweetie..? You shouldn't be out of bed right now..."
"A-Are you m-my mama...?" His voice held a Russian accent to it. "D-Daddy never talked about mama...a-are you g-gunna p-punish me for leaving!?"
As his voice filled with panic, your chest filled with worry. "O-Of course not sweetie! Are you hungry? Do you want anything? Do you want me to call your dad-?"
"No! No! Don't call dad! Please don't call my daddy!" He screamed in fear, grabbing tightly onto your shirt and hiding, shivering in fear. "H-He told me i-if I ran away a-and he found me..."
Bringing the child closer, you rubbed his back as he cried out. "Do you know your address baby...?"
He nodded into your shirt before murmuring the address softly. "Your really cold...how about I make you a bowl of soup after I make a call?"
Again, the boy nodded before you released him, allowing the scamper off to your room again to curl up.
Whipping out your phone, you immediately called emergency services. "Hello, 911? I need to report that a man has been abusing his child...yes, the address is..."
Ivan sat in the kitchen, looking at the bowl of warm food in front of him. The authorities called earlier, asking about the boy which is how you found out his name. They informed you that they were going to take him in to child services only to have you object. Now you awaited another call.
Pulling away from the phone, you approached him,"Ivan? Is something wrong with the soup? Is it too hot? Of you don't like it, I could make you a different one."
"I-Is it okay...?" His voice asked softly, lowing his head. "A-Am I allowed to have it...?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't you...?" You trailed off, seeing tears in his eyes. "You have had it rough haven't you...?" He nodded, tears falling down his face now. Ivan tried so desperately to hide his tears but failed miserably. "Honey, let me wipe your face-"
As you approached him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, he reacted by hitting you and curling up. "D-Don't hurt me! I don't mean it! I-I'm sorry!"
Now you were beginning to see the full extent of what he went through with that terrible father of his. Picking him up, you pressed his face to your shoulder,"Ivan...I'm not your dad...I won't hurt you. I promise..."
He sniffled and looked up,"R-Really?"
"Really." You pecked his cheek and brought his face to your shoulder once more. "When I was little, I was told that if I need to cry to just cry it all out...it's a healthy release...do you want to cry Ivan..."
"Y-Yes!" He started sobbing into your shirt, gripping onto the fabrics tightly and shaking terribly. The only thing you could do was rub his back in the hopes of coaxing him into calmness.
Outside the kitchen, the phone began to ring but the need to stay by the Russian child was too strong. Walking to the other room with him in your arms, you picked up the phone. Ivan immediately went silent,"Yes hello."
"Hello, this is the police. We received a call earlier regarding an abusive parent." Before you could speak, the officer spoke once more,"The man ODed sometime last night but there were obvious signs of a struggle. You're in possession of the child, right?"
"Y-Yea..." You stuttered out in shock. Looking back towards Ivan, you gave a reassuring smile and kissed his forehead. "He's with me right now."
"Do you know his age m'am?"
Bringing the phone away, you smiled. "Ivan, how old are you?"
"Don't worry...do you want to go finish up dinner?" He nodded, allowing him to scamper off to the cooled meal. "He said five...why...do you need to know this though?"
"We need you to bring him in to ask him a few questions..." The man spoke once more. "While you're there, you can sign all the papers for adoption."
"S-Sure..." You said unsurely, looking back towards the child. "We'll be in soon."
"Thank you for your time." With that, he hung up.
Ivan came out of the interrogation room with a female officer, his eyes filled to the rim with tears. Kneeling down, he ran into your arms in sobs. "T-They kept a-asking me stuff...I-I'm scared..."
"Sh...you're safe Ivan..." You breathed, lifting him in your arms and giving him protection. "Now you can stay with me Ivan...I adopted you..."
"I-I get to live with you...?" He said in a gentle voice. You nodded, combing your hand through his soft hair. "I-I don't have to go back t-to daddy..." Ypu shook your head once more.
"Thank you..." He whispered softly, resting his head on your shoulder. "T-Thank you so much..."
Nodding, you left with him, grabbing him some cloths at a nearby store and then going back home with him asleep in your arms. Snuggling close, you put everything down tucked him into your bed.
It was growing dark out and the poor kid as probably had enough for one day. Stripping off your coat, you went back to your room, laying down with little Ivan. Pulling him close, you allowed your eyes to shut softly.
His small fingers gripped onto your shirt, his face snuggled into the fabric. "Mama..."
"It's okay baby...I'm right here..."
"Ma...ma..." Again, he fell asleep once more, resting his head on the warm sheets.
Smiling, you kissed his forehead. "Good night Ivan..."