I was conceived, born and matured in one day. A young man named Andrii Andric willed me into existence as a final stand against his own greatest fear. Andrii was an obsessed poet and artist. He spent much of his free time creating mechanical creatures with pen and paper until thirst, hunger or duty overcame him. Duty was a last minute rush to the factory where he worked, assembled and daydreamed.
I daydreamed, too. I had thoughts that came into fruition almost as instantly as I grew. When the egg was fertilized, I felt triumph and hope. When my cells multiplied, I felt comfort and warmth as my body developed and shaped itself like clay. Then, I felt my synapses clutter up against each other and thirst. I felt emotions for the first time, new and simple to old and complicated. I felt, then saw, then understood, the watchful gaze of the djin whose sad eyes also felt a relief when gazing upon my form. The djin, also an artist, crafted my body’s components, my soul and all that we don’t understand to Andrii’s specifications. I was a complicated mechanical creature and I was bound to the laws of the world. My birth was not a screaming spectacle but a removal of protection. After, I began to age. My limbs stretched and shot outwards like a sprouting plant. I menstruated, grew breasts and began to comprehend the world. I learned about math and science and art. I knew where I was: the east. Andrii spoke softly to me. He promised me safety and hope in the west. Tears rolled down his face as I reached adulthood slowly and then stopped aging.
In the dead of the night, I stood nude in front of a djin and Andrii, who was left behind by his family in a hostile place.
Andrii turned to the djin and they shook hands.
“Thank you, friend.”
“We shall meet again,” says the djin then he is gone. Like a dream, our memories of the creature fade until we could not remember the details of his appearance. Only his sadness and relief lingered. Perhaps that was all he left for us to remember him by.
“Do you have a name?” asked Andrii.
I don’t.
“I have papers for you. Will you be able to use the name on them for now?”
“Yes,” I told him.
“The djin is free. Tonight, we will be free, too,” says Andrii. “’And even the whisper of the wind will not reach the ears of evil men-“
“-and reveal our hearts of truth and valor.”
“Yes,” Andrii smiled. “You are so beautiful. Just like I described.”
“Your imagination is my identity.” And Andrii’s smiled slipped until it rested on acceptance. His hand rested upon mine and I learn Andrii was not only terrified of being alone. I learn that he journeyed throughout world. I learned that he met an old Indian who gave him a dusty relic. I learned that the Soviets were searching for him and the secrets he carried.
In that night, we prepared and fled past the Berlin wall. Three faceless men helped us. On the other side, Andrii’s younger sister appeared to us.
“Who are you?” questioned the adolescent girl when she saw me.
I am nobody. I am human. I am-
“Here. Her papers are in order. She is my wife,” Andrii quickly hands his sister the documents.
“A wife, brother? Are you insane? You married a German slut?”
“Quiet your tongue. Do not say things, you will regret!”
“Or what? You will write me an angry poem?”
Andrii is silent. Then, he whispers, “Why did you leave me behind?”
“Does it matter? You are safe now.”
“It matters immensely. You are the only family I have.”
“Don’t be silly. You have her now.”
“I did not then. Tell me.”
His sister is small and fierce. Her face is young but her eyes have a long memory. She speaks slowly, “When they killed our mother and sent us her eyes, we protected you. When they beat our father without mercy then threw him to the dogs, we still hid you. When they raped me and cut my flesh, I held my tongue and my promise.”
Andrii looked at her with hard eyes. “I know the sacrifices.”
“You do not! You do not! They took Milos away from me! He was only a baby! He was my baby! I heard him scream, I heard him scream…”
“Milos? They killed Milos?”
“Grandfather was shot at the border.”
“No…”
“They grabbed me.”
“Sister…”
“And they told me I would die.”
“You didn’t…”
“Andrii, you doomed our family for a small copper trinket.”
I watched Andrii as his eyes widened.
“It is gone now,” he said.
The young woman looks at me and then at her brother.
“You wasted it all on selfishness. We spilled blood for you.”
The sister looks at me and slowly pulls out a knife. Andrii is slow and weak. He withered for a long time in a solitary attic with no companions. Her strong fingers grasped at my neck as she poised the weapon at my main artery. I felt fear for the first time. Tears stung my eyes and my chest convulsed.
“What were your wishes?”
Andrii closed his eyes and stretched out his hand towards me.
“First, was the disappearance of all atomic weapons in the world…. I made sure they were all gone, the blueprints, the bombs, even the…even the…”
“Even what?”
“Even the scientists who created them.”
We stared at him.
“I…wished for her. I felt so alone. I felt like I deserted my humanity and I needed to feel. And here she is. So beautiful, so beautiful.”
“Your last wish?”
“I set him free.”
“Why?”
“Because he set us all free from nuclear holocaust.”
“You could’ve brought our family back.”
“No…”
“Milos…”
“The rules…no resurrection, no love.”
“Milos, my baby…”
I felt her touch as I did Andrii’s. I felt my baby, Milos, tear through my womb. I felt the German soldiers tear my skin with serated knives. I felt my grandfather slap me when I tried to flee and sell out my brother.
“Milos, my baby…” I whispered.
I gurgled and fell to the ground as her knife slid into my throat. The forest around me wavered. I felt the dirt on the ground and wondered why I was created. I was confused at Andrii’s actions which were at once selfless and and selfish. A true contradiction. I wondered at my life and my death. I wondered why fate was so fickle and why love hurt so much.
“Milos…” Milos was gone. The scientists and their atomic bombs were gone. I lay on the ground and wished to no one in particular to be gone as well. My wish was granted.
Verse+Visual 