The memory hits her like a tidal wave, a vivid memory is something she has always had (another reason she fears the drift.)
It was a normal August day, school had ended by that time and Riley was in the ballet studio, her leg propped up on a steel bar as she leaned forward, touching her toes with the tips of her fingers. Breathing, balance and fluidness were always her main focus, the words on a constant repeat in her mind. She was in her element, the softly flowing music in the room was her only compainion as she stretched, feeling the weight of the day roll of her shoulders. That is until she heard the gasps and mortified screams from the next room over.
Her quick steps brought her to a room full of people, all crowed around the small TV that was set up. Pushing her way to the front she caught her first glimpses of Trespasser and honestly, she was terrified. For the longest time she believed the only true monsters to be the wrathful and egotistical people in the world who were greedy and stepped on others to get what they wanted, along with the murders and rapist (a monster she would meet later in life) that ran ramped. But these things, they were truly the things nightmares were made of.
For a moment she was frozen, her blue eyes glued to the screen as San Fransisco was torn to pieces. The erie quietness of the room was broken as Riley bounded out of the room. Her bag and belongings were all forgotten as she stepped out into the snow, her chest heaving as she ran towards her home. That monster, that thing, who said there was only one? Maybe the second one was on its way here and if it was she wanted to be with the only people she loved.
Bursting through the front door with flushed cheeks and frozen feet she called out to her parents and brothers, not noticing the tears that had started to fall. Her mother came out first from the kitchen, the women’s arms wrapping tightly around Riley as her own body shook with fear.
(“Where are Issac and Alex? School was over hours ago!”)
Rarely did she raise her voice but she was scared at the moment, her chest heaving as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Her mothers hands cupped her cheeks as she hushed the girl. (“Breath Riley, breath.”)
Just then rest of the Volkov’s came tumbling in the home, their heaving chests signaling they had been running too. Her father muted the TV but they all stood and watched in horror, eyes transfixed on the beast as it tore through homes, schools, businesses, everything.
The pain in her chest she felt for those people never faded, it still hasn’t until this day, it has only grown more profound.
"I was at ballet practice."
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