Description
Before 1936, I was alone. Russia was in a state of chaos after the Bolshevik takeover at Petrograd. Vladimir Lenin was gaining power at a frightening rate. Outside of Russia, the world was at war with itself. After Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, Europe was plunged into turmoil. Everything was going insane. I wasn't alone in the familial sense. Although my mother died giving birth to my younger sister, Natalia, and my father was one of the ones killed in Petrograd, I still had my sisters. Katyushka was my older sister. She treated me with a maternal gentleness; in fact, it was she who made my scarf, which I still wear to this day. Natalia was my younger sister. She was very attached to me, and some might've called it obsessive, but I didn't blame her. When she was three, I had fallen very ill, and I almost didn't make it. Katyushka soon got over my near death, but since Natalia was so young, her mind never fully recovered. But even with my sisters, I was still alone. I was always trying to find some way for us to scrape by, which led me to spend most of my waking hours away from home. I had very few friends, and the friendships I had were shaky, at best. Whenever I tried to talk to anyone, they would ignore me or push me out of their ways, thinking I was just another street boy. Before 1936, I was alone. ... Under the Same Stars: Book One
A Note from Cicero
