An explosion shook a house. People sitting in the cellar looked at the ceiling from which dust sifted down as the walls trembled. “This is the fourth time they are bombing us this morning”, mother said. Vadim shrugged and went on playing with his toy car. Two wheels of the toy were lost during numerous moves and paint has scaled off, but still it was his favourite toy. It was the toy from their house, the toy that was inherited from his twin brother. The brother died in the first days of war. At that time no one believed it possible; that it wasn’t a mistake or joke, so no one hid children. Vadim’s brother was killed right in front of him; he felt something important was taken away from him. Perhaps, had he been a little older, he would have spoken about connection between twins and about his loss, but he was only six and he just felt that something was missing.
Another explosion shook the house. Mother looked at the ceiling and frowned. Vadim understood what is war, bombing and what happens when an explosion shakes a house more than once during the morning. They will have to run and hide again. There were five of them: he, his mother, aunt Lucia, her newborn daughter Alina and her eldest son Sergey. There were no grown men with them. One week after the beginning of war, Vadim’s father and his brother, aunt Lucia’s husband, volunteered for the front. They had not heard anything from them for four months. And where could they come or call if their small group had already changed many cellars. Another explosion. Vadim cringed.
Mother and aunt Lucia started to pack their meager possessions. Instinctively feeling that her mother was nervous, Alina started to cry. Frightened aunt Lucia rushed toward her and begun to rock her child. “No one hears your sobs because of these explosions”, mother mumbled tiredly.
When their things were packed, women and their children waited for an hour and a half or so after bombing and peeped out of the cellar suspiciously. The house was levelled, leaving only the stones and wreckage, broken glass and scorched furniture. Vadim looked coldly at a big doll torn apart. “Just like my brother”, he thought and turned away.
Their small group was passing through the city in search of new shelter. They were looking around and walked on. They had to run and hide, as far from there as they could. Alina was crying and the boys were walking in silence looking down at the ground. “I wish it was all over”, Vadim thought. “I want to come back home, where I will be happy, where my father will hold me and my brother high in the air and where there will be someone to hold, where my brother will be”.
A pilot of the plane bombing the city was hot and bored. He stuck in this hole for fifth months and had no hope to come back home in the nearest future. At home his fiancée was waiting for him. She was so beautiful that all his friends envied him. But suddenly the war begun, he had to do his job, his butcherly job.”I’ll make one more circle and then return to the base”, he thought dropping the bomb and descending the city into obscurity and chaos.
The small group was out of luck. The pilot’s last circle became the last for the group. Unable to hide the whole family died. And only one wish, the boy’s last wish, came true, he went home where his brother was waiting for him…