We Are All That's Left by Carrie Arcos

Author:Carrie Arcos
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2018-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

1994

Winter

Sarajevo

BiH

MRS. VINKOVIĆ’S HOUSE smelled like old potatoes. Light from the cracks in the curtains hit the thin layer of dust particles dancing in the air. Nadja crept along the wooden floor, so as not to disturb anything. Which was silly, she knew; there was no one there. Only dust and the thin shards of light that always found their way in.

She ran her finger along the top of the kitchen counter, making a worm track. It didn’t take long for dust to cover what once was living. Two weeks? Maybe three? And it was already as if someone hadn’t lived there in a long time. Any sweets would be long gone by now. The neighbors had already ransacked the cupboards and taken anything else that could be put to use, including the piano. It had been cut up and used for firewood. All that remained now were the ivory and black keys, which lay in a pile on the floor like extracted teeth.

Nadja picked one up, wondering what note it had been, and placed it in her pocket. Outside, she heard the shelling start up again. She dropped to the ground and pressed her back against the wall, drew her knees to her chest.

She started counting. The shelling lasted to number twenty-eight, fading as she continued past thirty.

When she felt it was safe, she stood back up and went to check out the bedroom. It was undisturbed. Maybe people thought this was where Mrs. Vinković still remained and didn’t want to touch it. Nadja knew her own ghosts only came in her dreams and nightmares. She would love for them to visit during the day. Then she could speak with them, ask them to never leave her.

There was a bowl on the floor for a cat. She wondered where the woman’s cat had gone. If someone had eaten it. Or if, realizing its owner had not returned, the cat had left. Gone looking for food.

Nadja walked through the hallway, where pictures and artwork once hung. Now only nails marked the walls. She picked at a spot where the pale-orange-striped wallpaper was starting to give way, and tore a large strip off. It felt good to tear it, so she did it again and again until she had uncovered another layer of wallpaper. This one was an ugly lime green with flowers.

Creak.

The sound came from upstairs. The attic. The cat, she thought, and she found the door in the ceiling. She pulled it open and climbed up into the space.

It was dark and dusty. She sneezed.

When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she peered around the room. Nadja’s eyes met another’s, but it was not a cat. It was a woman.

Nadja’s heart raced. She backed away from the eyes and down the stairs, closing the attic door above her.

As she stepped back into the hallway, the front door burst open.

“Hey!” a man yelled at her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the kitchen.

“Got her!” he said.

Two other men came into the room.

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