This story is about my son, Winter's brother, Vladimir.
Vladimir was born on October 13th, 1982 to two wonderful, loving, first-time parents. After hours of agony in the maternity ward, Harold and Elizabeth White were proud to finally be parents to a healthy baby boy. The first thing he did, unlike most other babies, was giggle. Not cry. Not scream. Vladimir giggled. His father named him after his great-uncle's middle name. It was a stretch, but it was almost tradition. They were later able to take him home to a warm house in the cold winds of Alaska.
Vladimir grew up quickly. He was saying words and making requests at the age of one. At two, he could count and say the alphabet. He could add at the age of three, and do sixth grade math at five years old. Vlad was intelligent. He played the trumpet early on, as well as the piano. He loved playing Moonlight Sonata, but mostly Cristofori's Dream. He played it beautifully. When he was seven, a beautiful baby girl with the palest white skin and bluest was born. She giggled, too. But not until after she was done crying. She cried for a long time.
But Vlad didn't mind the crying. He could comfort her with the piano. He would play at any hour to comfort his baby sister. They grew up together as the best of friends. They would go to camp each summer after the family moved to Canada. Soon, Winter was six and Vlad was fifteen. This would be Winter's first summer away from Vlad. She hung nervously to him before camp started. But, reluctantly, she left him.
There, she met another best friend, a girl named Brandi. Brandi lived in Watson Lake, but on the opposite side of town. Winter introduced her new friend to Vlad and to her puppy. The two girls have been friends ever since. Vlad and Brandi were friends, too.
Vlad wasn't as strict as he may have seemed as a child, so intelligent. He loved life. He enjoyed every second of it.
Vlad turns sixteen, and Harold buys his son a car. It's a beautiful new car, too, worth a lot of money. But Vlad is worth it. Vlad is worth everything in the world to Elizabeth and Harold. He drives as quickly as he learned o play the piano, and as beautifully as he played, as well. The parents were proud again. Vlad drove around, helping everyone with odd jobs after he finished his work, always coming home around nine each night. Elizabeth stayed awake, listening to the sound of the garage door opening, the sound of feet going up the stairs, and the sound of a door closing, a lamp turning on, and then off. Then, she knew she could go to bed.
A year passes, and Winter and Brandi are now eight, playing at together at the White home, while Vlad is out at a concert nearby. Vlad enjoyed the symphony, but this night, he thought he'd try something new. The rock concert ended around ten that night. Vlad was the one who was designated to drive himself and his friend home, where the young girls were asleep in the living room in their sleeping bags, and the faithful parents were upstairs reading.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
Vladimir was born on October 13th, 1982 to two wonderful, loving, first-time parents. After hours of agony in the maternity ward, Harold and Elizabeth White were proud to finally be parents to a healthy baby boy. The first thing he did, unlike most other babies, was giggle. Not cry. Not scream. Vladimir giggled. His father named him after his great-uncle's middle name. It was a stretch, but it was almost tradition. They were later able to take him home to a warm house in the cold winds of Alaska.
Vladimir grew up quickly. He was saying words and making requests at the age of one. At two, he could count and say the alphabet. He could add at the age of three, and do sixth grade math at five years old. Vlad was intelligent. He played the trumpet early on, as well as the piano. He loved playing Moonlight Sonata, but mostly Cristofori's Dream. He played it beautifully. When he was seven, a beautiful baby girl with the palest white skin and bluest was born. She giggled, too. But not until after she was done crying. She cried for a long time.
But Vlad didn't mind the crying. He could comfort her with the piano. He would play at any hour to comfort his baby sister. They grew up together as the best of friends. They would go to camp each summer after the family moved to Canada. Soon, Winter was six and Vlad was fifteen. This would be Winter's first summer away from Vlad. She hung nervously to him before camp started. But, reluctantly, she left him.
There, she met another best friend, a girl named Brandi. Brandi lived in Watson Lake, but on the opposite side of town. Winter introduced her new friend to Vlad and to her puppy. The two girls have been friends ever since. Vlad and Brandi were friends, too.
Vlad wasn't as strict as he may have seemed as a child, so intelligent. He loved life. He enjoyed every second of it.
Vlad turns sixteen, and Harold buys his son a car. It's a beautiful new car, too, worth a lot of money. But Vlad is worth it. Vlad is worth everything in the world to Elizabeth and Harold. He drives as quickly as he learned o play the piano, and as beautifully as he played, as well. The parents were proud again. Vlad drove around, helping everyone with odd jobs after he finished his work, always coming home around nine each night. Elizabeth stayed awake, listening to the sound of the garage door opening, the sound of feet going up the stairs, and the sound of a door closing, a lamp turning on, and then off. Then, she knew she could go to bed.
A year passes, and Winter and Brandi are now eight, playing at together at the White home, while Vlad is out at a concert nearby. Vlad enjoyed the symphony, but this night, he thought he'd try something new. The rock concert ended around ten that night. Vlad was the one who was designated to drive himself and his friend home, where the young girls were asleep in the living room in their sleeping bags, and the faithful parents were upstairs reading.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
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2. CONTINUE!