Veronika Gasparyan - Mother at Seven

Mother

at Seven

VERONIKAGASPARYAN

Mother at Seven

The Shocking True Story ofan Armenian Girls Stolen Childhood
and Her Familys Unspeakable, Cruel Betrayal

by
Veronika Gasparyan

Mother at Seven

Copyright 2016 VeronikaGasparyan. Produced and printed by Stillwater River Publications.All rights reserved. Written and produced in the United States ofAmerica. This book may not be reproduced or sold in any formwithout the expressed, written permission of the author andpublisher.

Visit our website at www.StillwaterPress.com for more information.

First Stillwater RiverPublications Edition

ISBN-10: 0-692-72141-X

ISBN-13: 978-0-692-72141-4

Library of CongressControl Number: 2016946289

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 910

Written by VeronikaGasparyan
Cover Design by Dawn M. Porter

Published by StillwaterRiver Publications, Glocester, RI, USA.

PublishersCataloging-In-Publication Data

(Prepared by The Donohue Group,Inc.)

Names: Gasparyan,Veronika.

Title: Mother at seven :the shocking true story of an Armenian girl's stolen childhood andher family's unspeakable, cruel betrayal / by VeronikaGasparyan.

Description: FirstStillwater River Publications edition. | Glocester, RI, USA :Stillwater River Publications, [2016]

Identifiers: LCCN2016946289 | ISBN 978-0-692-72141-4 | ISBN 0-692-72141-X

Subjects: LCSH: Gasparyan,Veronika--Family. | Abused children--Russia(Federation)--Sochi--Biography. | Abused children--Familyrelationships--Russia (Federation)--Sochi. | Families--Russia(Federation)--Sochi. | LCGFT: Autobiographies.

Classification: LCCDK510.75.G37 A3 2016 | DDC 947.086092--dc23

The views and opinionsexpressed in this book are solely those of the author
and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of thepublisher.

Dedication

To my grandfather, SergeyMovsesovitch Israelyan,

who dared me tosurvive

and is watching over mefrom heaven.

In my mind, learning tofly was a very logical alternative.

I honestly saw no otherway to free myself from this torture

other than to fly justlike the birds did;

the birds were completelyfree.

~ VeronikaGasparyan

Mother at Seven

CHAPTER 1

On The Edge of theWindow

I stood at the edge of the window in my familys fifth floorapartment and wondered if I could fly. Just a few hours earlier,after enjoying yet another dream with my beloved and beautifulbrown eagle, I made up my mind that today would be the day. Today Iwould finally be brave. Today I was going to fly away.

Most of the time, Iconsidered Sundays to be my favorite day of the week. I would spendthem alone watching over my baby brother which I felt was awonderful way to spend a weekend. I always cherished Sundays themost because unlike the rest of the week, we were left alone and wewere able to do the fun things that we werent allowed to do on anyother day.

Even though this was thefifteenth day in a row and I hadnt been allowed to go outside, Istill felt strangely happy and joyful from the moment I woke upthat morning. In fact, I somehow knew that this day was going to bedifferent and unique even though I hadnt yet figured out what itwas that made me feel that way. After all, I was only a little overeight years-old, and I did not understand everything in this worldso easily. Despite my predicament, and despite the distractions ofmy one year-old baby brother who was needy and quite a handful, mymind was still so full of hope. I yearned for brighterdays.

It was now 11 a.m. and myregular morning routine was finished. It usually took about threehours to complete my chores, but on Sundays they always took longerbecause I would pause to play with the baby and have fun. It feltbetter to be doing things around the house at my own speed withoutthe pressure of adults watching over my shoulder. And now even mybaby brother was happy, sporting a set of fresh, clean clothes androunded belly full of food.

I looked down from thewindow and could see my friends and classmates playing outside asthey usually did on the weekend. I, on the other hand, couldnt gooutside. It wasnt just because my parents had forbidden it, but itwas also because I didnt want to leave my brother alone. So all Icould do was watch everyone from my balcony window and enjoy thebright summer sunbeams as they shone through the glass and warmedmy face.

There are definitelyadvantages to living on the top floor of an apartment building the strong heat from the sun and the breathtaking views are two ofthem. For some reason, looking out at our great view always made mefeel calm and at peace with the world. The front yard of ourbuilding was big at least five acres and had all kinds ofinteresting things growing in it. There were many differentvarieties of fruit trees, colorful flowers, pretty bushes, and anendless carpet of thick green grass. There were also manmadefeatures like playgrounds, swings, tables with chairs, and otherinteresting things for kids to play on. There was even a sectionset aside for personal gardens that our neighbors created forthemselves. These little gardens produced an amazing variety offruit and greens that helped folks save money and avoid the highprices found at the stores and bazaars. Unfortunately for all of uskids, their gardens were fenced in, and we couldnt get any of thefruit or vegetables from them. (Except of course about once ortwice each month when someone would forget to lock hisgate!)

There were ninetyapartments in the building that housed at least thirty kids ofschool age and their families. The buildings big front yard wasimportant for so many of us. On any given Sunday, especially in themorning, you would find at least fifteen children playing there atone time. It didnt matter how warm or how cold it was, or evenwhat season it was, because all I knew was that I loved living hereand I didnt want to be in any other country or city onEarth.

On this particular Sunday,since it was summer vacation, there were even more kids scatteredaround the yard than usual and they were doing all sorts of funthings. Just like most Sunday mornings, I was right there with mynose pressed against the window watching them play and have fun.Even though I couldnt physically be with them, no one could stopme from imagining that I was. After all, it seemed like that isexactly what children should be doing on a sunny Sunday duringsummer school vacation. Some of my friends were on the swings andeach kid was trying to fly higher than all the other kids. Somewere climbing the fruit trees, probably trying to get the bigger,juicier apples, pears, and plums that grew at the top. A few of theother friends were drawing hopscotch patterns on the driveways withcolored chalk, while a couple of my closest friends were resting inthe thick green grass with their hands spread apart wide, probablyenjoying the warm and shining sun just like I was.

None of the kids called myname or asked me to come out because they already knew the answerthey were going to get. Since the day my brother was born, I hadntbeen out to play. Every time they came up to my door to ask me tocome out and join them, I wouldnt be allowed. In fact, I would bepunished if they shouted my name from the yard too many times, andthen I wouldnt feel like going outside anyway. My friends got thepoint after they tried to get me out a few times, and now they justwent about their business and acted like I didnt exist. What elsecould they do?

After a few minutes ofwatching my friends play, I thought again about the eagle in mydream and wondered why he had been acting so strange. I rememberedfeeling a smile cross my face the moment I woke up; the dream hadbeen so vivid! Then suddenly, all the details of that dream pouredback into my memory like a roaring ocean wave.

In my dream, a beautifulbrown eagle with very large wings and a bright, white head wouldfly over our building and across the front yard every Sundaymorning. He would always fly away before noontime, as if he had tofly off to some other childs dream or back to that wonderful,happy place he must have come from. Every time he visited, I wouldnotice that our clock read 11 a.m. and it was always Sunday. I hadnever seen this beautiful eagle in real life, although I looked forhim many times while watching other birds fly above our playyard.