Nine year old Matvei Carven walked alone down the street, just minutes after dawn. Streaks of sunrays fell upon his caramel brown hair. He carried a navy blue backpack on his shoulders, the shadows of trees striping him in light and dark, as sunlight filtered through them. His sneakers treaded solidly on the pavement, the dawn showing him fully as he appeared around the street corner in a heathered blue shirt, hoodie, and jeans over his skinny frame.

Matvei reached the white home with the dark shutters and approached it slowly, reluctant to go inside. He took a deep breath, hoping his father would be home. He slowly opened the door to the house, unsurprised it wasn't locked.

His mother Nadima Carven was passed out on the couch. The drapes were shut, though dim sunlight attempted to shine into the room. Matvei's hazel eyes glanced down at the empty bottle of tequila on the floor, the carpet reeking of alcohol. Oh no, she drank that stuff again, Matvei thought disappointedly, suppressing the urge to run back out to his friend's house, to leave the house entirely. But a priority took place.

Matvei quietly made his way through the house, not wanting to wake up his mother. He opened the door to his parents' bedroom, but his father wasn't there. Matvei's heart sank; he had been looking forward to seeing his father again. He didn't want to be alone with his mother, so he walked out of the house, clutching his backpack tightly.

When he returned from wandering alone in the woods, the midday sun shone brightly, welcoming Matvei with warmth and guidance as he walked alone. But when Matvei went inside the house, his mother was still asleep, and his father still wasn't home.

Where is he? Did he work overtime again? Matvei wondered. He often daydreamed his father would take him away from this place, away from the house and the violent woman who yelled and shouted and slammed doors and threw things. Matvei longed for the day it would just be him and his Dad, traveling the world like they always wanted.

Legal issues stood in the way of father and son. Vengimi had signed the divorce papers, but Nadima refused to sign them. Both parents wanted custody of their son, but Matvei only wanted to be with Vengimi, his father who loved him and never yelled at him, never shouted or slammed doors nor threw things at him.

Mom wasn't always like this, Matvei remembered, wishing things could return to the way they were originally. When his mother called him honey and didn't say bad words, when she let his father open the door for her instead of slamming the door in rage, when she made pancakes in the morning and sweetly kissed his father, when she carefully placed the dishes on the table instead of throwing them, when she brought a smile instead of tears to his father's face.

He had seen his father cry before, had felt the tears that wet his shirt even as his father held his son in a hug. The young boy knew his father wanted things to be good again, or at least get better, but his mother wouldn't allow it. Gone were the sweet kisses and pancakes, the light cheerfulness and happy feeling that once enveloped the house like a warm hug. Matvei sometimes wondered if such things were a dream or fantasy, if reality could ever be that good again.

Matvei attempted to forge the divorce papers. He tried to sign his mother's name on the lines, but when Nadima saw him at the table with the divorce papers, she viciously seized the pen from him. Matvei immediately backed away from her in fear. Matvei pleaded for her to sign them so he could be with his father, but Nadima was furious and nearly ripped his ear off. Matvei never attempted forgery again.

Every time Matvei came home from school, he always greeted his father and spent as much time with him as he could, whether it was to go out for ice cream or the arcade, the park, the playground, or just a simple walk.

Matvei was very similar in appearance to his father, looking almost exactly like Vengimi. Many people had told Vengimi that his son was the splitting image of him.

Vengimi started working longer hours when Nadima started becoming more violent. Matvei remembered coming home from school, looking forward to spending time with his father, only to learn he was working overtime for the fourth time that week. Vengimi would come home worn out and exhausted from work, but he would always go to his son's bedroom and kiss him goodnight. Sometimes he stayed up to read stories or talk about things that happened during work.

Matvei noticed Vengimi was often in his bedroom, not coming out for hours, sometimes an entire day. Why is he always sleeping? Why is the door closed all the time? He used to let me cuddle with him. I miss being in his arms. I feel so safe in his arms.

"Dad is tired from work," was Nadima's frequent excuse, to hide the fact of what truly happened behind closed doors. Because Matvei was so young, neither parent wanted their son to know the type of abuse Nadima inflicted on Vengimi.

Matvei sighed, wishing his father didn't work so much overtime, knowing he voluntarily worked so much to stay away from Nadima. Vengimi sometimes brought Matvei with him to the office, on days when Nadima was way too violent and the house literally shook from her rage. Matvei understood the reason why his father held him so close, why he cried when his heart couldn't handle the pain. He just didn't know the full extent of Nadima's brutality.

"Matvei? Where are you hiding?"

Oh no, she woke up! Matvei dashed out the door, not wanting to be around his mother whenever she had a hangover. She drank often, though Matvei was thankful she didn't smoke. He knew some kids had parents who smoked and he always felt bad for them, having to live in such an awful smelling house.

Matvei figured his father would be at work, since he wasn't home. He made his way to his father's workplace, hoping his father would be there.

One of his father's coworkers, Andrey Listin, saw Matvei and came over, saying, "Hey, Matvei! What are you doing here alone? Where's your father at?"

"Is my Dad at work?" Matvei asked. "I need to see him."

Andrey's face fell. "He's not at work today. He didn't call out or anything; he just didn't show up to work. Did he take you to school today?"

Matvei shook his head sadly. "No, I'm skipping school today. Can I stay in Dad's office?"

"Are your parents home?" Andrey asked, becoming concerned.

"I don't want to be home," Matvei said firmly. "I need to find my father. He wasn't home today. Can I please stay in his office? I won't cause any trouble."

You're the one kid that never causes any trouble, Andrey thought, recalling the times Vengimi took his son with him to work.

Matvei was always well behaved. He liked the company his father worked for and he enjoyed learning about his father's work. His father's coworkers were always friendly and cheerful, smiling at Matvei and saying how he looked exactly like Vengimi, how cute they were together, and they sometimes gave him candy and donuts. He even met his father's boss, a kind man with glasses, and was given a water bottle and a fantastic lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup with garlic and pepper, exactly the way Matvei liked it.

Andrey knew the child should be home with his mother and was concerned when Matvei expressed his reluctance in being home. He sensed there was something troubling going on in Vengimi's home life, though Vengimi never mentioned it to anyone, keeping things to himself. Vengimi didn't have close friends; he didn't confide in anyone about what he was going through. Matvei was the only person Vengimi spent time with outside of work.

Andrey's eyes scanned Matvei for any hidden injuries or bruises, but he could see none. He crouched so he could be level with the kid. "Could you tell me what's going on at home?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and steady, in a conversational tone.

But Matvei shook his head, distrusting of even a nice coworker like Andrey. "Please let me stay in Dad's office. Just for today."

Andrey hesitated, unsure what the company policy was for allowing children in the building without a parent or guardian. He wasn't sure if he could get in trouble on account of someone else's kid, but the boy was alone and without a parent or guardian. He didn't want to be home, which meant something was going on that caused the boy to walk all the way to his father's workplace. Andrey wasn't sure whether he should call the cops. It was not clear exactly what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good.

Andrey rose, giving a small smile as he decided he couldn't allow the boy to be alone without an adult. He opened the door and badged in, saying, "Alright, kid. I'll let you in the office, but only until one of your parents comes to pick you up."

Neither of his parents came to pick up Matvei. Andrey kept an eye on Matvei as he sat in his father's chair, holding his father's shirt as he read a space adventure book. Instead of a stuffed animal or toy, Matvei carried one of his father's shirts with him at all times. His familiar sage mint smell comforted him whenever he felt scared or alone.

Wished my own kids behaved as well as Vengimi's son, Andrey thought to himself, thinking of his young daughters Delena and Stelena who sometimes caused mischief for Andrey and his wife Marusia. Andrey shared his lunch with Matvei, making sure the boy had plenty to eat. Matvei thanked him, spending the rest of the work shift looking out the window, hoping to see his father show up.

He didn't show up.

When it was time for the office to close for the day, having gone past even the overtime hours, Andrey drove Matvei to his house. The young boy was amazed at the leather seats and stereo system in Andrey's newer model Audi, liking the feel of being inside an expensive car. It felt really nice, smelled luxurious, and gave him a good feeling, one he rarely felt.

Matvei reluctantly left the car and stepped out, wanting to stay in the car, wanting the car to take him far away from the house. Matvei thanked Andrey and walked towards the door, hoping his mother was sober and in a decent mood.

She was not.

"Where's your father? Did he work overtime again?" Nadima asked, fixing her gaze at Matvei. Her cognac brown eyes were red and her mid-length golden brown hair was unbrushed. The dim sunlight that cut through the drapes shone everywhere except on Nadima, who seemed to lurk like a denim clad burglar in the living room.

"I don't know," Matvei murmured, trying to go towards his room. When his mother seized his shoulder, Matvei exclaimed in a panicked tone, "I haven't seen him! Where is my Dad? What did you do to him?"

"We had a fight and he left the house. That's all I remember," Nadima said as Matvei shook his shoulder free, hurrying to see if his father was anywhere in the house.

He was nowhere to be found.

Matvei felt tears spring in his eyes. Vengimi never failed to come home from work and had never disappeared like this before. He felt something might've happened to him and was worried he might be hurt, or worse. He called his father's cell phone from the home phone, hoping his father would pick up. He knew his father's mobile phone number by memory.

But his father didn't pick up. There was nothing but silence, not even the automatic voice message system that asked to leave a message.

Matvei started crying, hoping his father would come home and hug him and make him feel like everything was alright, even for a moment. Matvei held his father's shirt as he cried himself to sleep, eventually falling asleep from exhaustion. His last thought was of his father.

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Music:

"Delirious (feat. The Anix)"
by Fury Weekend

[Two of my favorite music artists, The Anix and Fury Weekend, just released a new song that has a 90's-esque vibe and for some reason makes me think of Matvei, so I added the song to this chapter's music]

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