Prologue
Atlas
Today, my mother would have turned forty-eight years old. I try not to think about the past, but sometimes, my mind travels back to a place I seldom visit. In memory of my mother, I lean back, clasping my hands behind my head, and close my eyes, trying to remember some of the good times in her short life. Sadly, there were none.
Atlas 10 years old
"You're nothing but a fucking whore. Why can't you do anything right, you bitch?"
I looked over at my brothers, Maxim and Lev, huddling in the corner of the living room while my lunatic father humiliated and insulted my mother again. I just entered the kitchen from upstairs, where I heard all the commotion sifting through my bedroom walls.
This was nothing new in our family. My father had been abusing my mother for years. He was known as General Ivan Petrov of the elite foreign intelligence agency in Russia, so that gave him free rein to terrorize his family whenever he felt like it. He was never held accountable for anything he did due to his ties with the Soviet Union. People throughout the country feared him. He was well known for subjecting his victims to severe levels of torture, and members of his family were no exception. She looked at him, terrified.
" Please, Ivan, I did nothing wrong."
My father stomped over to her and slapped her in the mouth with his huge hand, splitting her lip open and making her head snap back.
My two brothers ran to their bedrooms on the second floor, hiding from the daily violence that permeated our household like toxic mold.
"Don't you dare disrespect me! I am the fucking man of this house. If you can't clean this goddam place the way I want it done, you will be punished!!
My father removed his belt from his pants, folding it in half. My mother tried to run from him, but he was too quick. He reached out, grabbed a handful of her dark shoulder-length hair, and wrapped it in his fist.
He pulled her head back, making her scream as he pushed her to her knees. I watched the blood trickle down her chin as my father continued his tirade.
"If you fucking move, I will use my belt buckle on your goddam face. You got that, you fucking useless slut?"
My mother had no choice but to nod while looking up into her tormentor's eyes as he gripped her hair tighter, totally immobilizing her. I took a deep breath and ran towards them, screaming. "Dad, please let mommy go. You're hurting her!!"
I was ten years old. I was still a skinny, lanky kid without an ounce of muscle on my pre-pubescent body. I was no match for my father's strength, but I didn't care. He had been striking me with the belt since I was seven years old. I barely felt the strap across my ass anymore because he had been doing it for so long that I became desensitized to the beatings. I’m surprised I wasn’t full of scars from all the thrashings I received.
He had conditioned me to accept the abuse as a normal part of life. I would check out mentally while he whipped the snot out of me. He reasoned that I had to toughen up for the Intelligence Service I was destined to join when I turned eighteen. I needed to be strong enough to handle what was coming for me in the future. He would say this repeatedly as the thick leather strap came down over and over again on my tortured flesh during many of his rampages.
He had been drilling that shit into my head since I was six years old. I had learned to choke down all my anger, keeping it bottled up inside, allowing it to fester like a rotting corpse over the years. I was taught to show no emotion at an early age. If I screamed and cried, he would hit me harder. He only struck my bottom when he used the belt, but his fists were a different story. He would punch me in the face, head, neck, shoulders…wherever he felt like landing the blows.
The severe abuse I endured was slowly conditioning me to become an unsympathetic monster, which I was not aware of at the time. I hated the guy’s fucking guts, and I would never forgive him for what he put all of us through.
My mother looked at me with her sad blue eyes, their spark long gone, shaking her head.
"No honey, please go to your room,"
She breathed between sobs, her face red and puffy from crying. My father looked at me, even more pissed off than he was two minutes earlier. I knew I was in for it. Anytime I intervened between him and my mother, he usually beat my ass instead. "Oh yeah, hero. You want me to leave your fucking useless mother alone, then you will take her place!"
He released his hold on her and charged towards me.
"Run, Dimitri, run!
She screamed as she struggled to get on her feet.
I was about a foot shorter than he was, so I ran as fast as possible to escape. Of course, he was a lot more powerful and a hell of a lot faster. He chased me into the yard, catching me immediately.
He lifted me off the ground with one arm, carrying me kicking and screaming into the barn. He threw me down on the floor, standing over me with the belt still in one hand. His face was contorted in a blind rage. His eyes were almost black. "You think you're smart getting involved with my affairs? Strip off your clothes and get on your knees. NOW! If you make me wait, I will tear the skin from your body while watching you bleed out, you little piece of shit! What’s this, your third beating this week? I think you enjoy being punished, so I will change it up a bit today."
My stomach flipped, and I started to shake, but I did as I was told. I swallowed hard, kneeling in front of him stark naked, entirelyat his mercy.
I was shivering from pure fear, aware of how angry I had made him. His words terrified me.
I am going to change it up a bit today.
