Fyodor had mostly forgotten about the childhood he once had. All his siblings, mother, and abusive father had been put behind him. His only reminder being the scars on his wrists from being hit by his father ruler when he had been “misbehaving”. He couldn’t ignore it now. In the mistake of taking you, his young child, back to Russia for a bit, he ran into his family

Fyodor’s mother, Yelena, gasped

“Oh baby, is that you?” She spoke in Russian. Her eyes now sad, as she went to him and held his face in her hands. She was old now, but her long raven hair she passed to Fyodor was still ever so prominent

Fyodor’s siblings, two girls, Mila and Polina, and three boys, Mikhail, Alek, and Artur, mostly stared, shocked to see the brother who they thought to be dead standing there.

Fyodor’s father now the other hand the scowled at Fyodor. His short brown hair slightly gray now

“Why must you look like a woman? We raised you to be a man and not keep your hair in such a feminine way”