I grew up under a very broken and dysfunctional family. While my parents were busy tearing each other apart, I was pretty much raised and held together by an older friend of mine.

Older friend was my neighbour, an old and unimaginably kind lady who was the motherly figure I otherwise would have never had, we can call her V.

V grew up extremely poor under the times of the Societ Union. She married at an early age to an abusive alcoholic, who eventually disappeared and abandoned her at a particularly bad time of her life.

After the end of communism in Russia she managed to create a decent wealth for herself. Then out of nowhere the alcoholic bastard comes back into her life with a broken leg and broke in debt and begging for her help. V has the kindest, most forgiving heart so she swore to look past their troubled past and help him out.

This asshole stole and gambled away all her money, abused the shit out of her, and again disappeared when his debt came back to haunt him.

She barely managed afterwards doing what she could to make ends meet all on her own, but still she was always welcoming to me and gave me comfort when I was most troubled. I spent most of my childhood at her place where she would tell stories of old times and read books to me.

Eventually my mother became fed up of my father's shit and we moved to America around 2007. I never heard of V again for years and always wondered if she was doing okay. I guess things only got worse for her because two years ago she took her life.

I've tried to find out what happened in the seven years since I left, but all that I've gathered from the few people that knew her is that she spent most of her time by herself in the old house.