Short stories 5 страница

… She was wandering between the graves, trying to understand what is written on the monuments. Crowds of people visited that place once before her, but there were almost no traces of human hand discernible at the old cemetery. The erased names, the headstones scattered here and there, half-buried in the soil anonymous monuments were covered with fresh grass and ivy. The plants became the only sign of life in that place. The high trees hid graves from public eyes for more than one century already …

… He sat ahead of her desk on chemistry lessons. Once during the break time he turned to her. Her heart began beating uneasily. But he had only asked her to pass the pen to some classmate.

On algebra lessons he sat at the second school desk behind her back. They were always late after the lesson to complete tasks, and often she was trying to do everything as long as possible to stay with him alone.

She sat at the front desk, and she watched how girls from her class sat on the window sill and chatted with him. Girls were always buzzing about him. But she was afraid to come near him. Well, he didn't show any interest of her too …

… Having reached Lermontov's grave, she stopped at the fencing and looked at thick firn near a footpath. Behind the thickets mountains and houses were seen, small from afar. Here and there the butterflies were flittering disturbed by her steps…

… And once she stood in the library, and he suddenly came in. What joy was simply to look at him and to know that he is near. He seemed to her the cleverest and the most beautiful person in the world.

Once she and her classmates were cleaning up the school territory. There was some garbage burning in the bonfire, someone was jumping through the fire, it was cheerful. But then he started to hurry and stepped aside. He was going home. Everything lost its meaning. She wanted to go with him so much, but it was necessary to stay and pretend that everything was alright …

… She has stood beside the ancient graves. She didn’t want to leave. Here it was quiet and peaceful, no one disturbed the quietude of the dead. Those who could grieve over the deceased had already died themselves long ago, and there weren’t that spirit of a hopelessness and grief at the cemetery which soars at modern burials. No little tables with grain and sunflower seeds for pigeons, no tasteless plastic flowers in iron vases. Only the place where thousands of people had found eternal rest. No one worried them now, and only the tombstones reminded that once they lived, loved and hoped too…

… Many years had passed. Once she had written him a letter with her diary about him. He hadn’t answered, and later she learned that he had uploaded her photo to one website and mocked at her with his friends. He wrote that he isn't a zoophile to meet her and that he didn’t like her " exterior". That way her first love ended …

… She left the charnel fencing, reached the bus-stop and sat into a taxi to the Tsvetnik Park. In the Tsvetnik Park, having found a stall with Pyatigorsk ice cream, she has bought a cup. Just like at the time of her parents’ childhood, the ice cream was fine. She reached the Chinese pavilion, found a stone bench nearby and sat down on it. It was very hot, the fragrance of southern herbs was shrouding Mashuk, and occasionally the fresh wind blew. " This is the most wonderful place in the world! " – she thought.

2015

The apple-tree

The apple-tree remembered hardly her childhood. She stood among the same identical apple grafts. They were exchanging words among themselves and growing their roots. Once she was thrust into a bag, put into the car and taken away.

She regained consciousness in the morning on some hillock. It was almost empty around her, except for several young apple-trees, plums and cherries. It was spring, and the warm air was casting thoughts of hot summer. A young man was digging in the apple-tree’s roots, and a woman was watering the ground with cold water from the well.

The next day the apple-tree got a bit settled on her new place. It was deserted, but sometimes people came. The men were planting potato and currants, the women – onions and carrots.

Summer approached. The apple-tree had taken roots and grew up a bit. People came. They were building a shed, laughing and joking. Sometimes she saw hares and moles.

In autumn people brought with them a cat and put him near the apple-tree. At first he sat, nestled on the ground, but then begun to run around. Gnawed one apple leaf.

In winter the man covered the apple-tree with fir-tree branches. The snow fell. It was warm.

The next spring children arrived, a boy and a girl. They were playing near the apple-tree, swinging on a swing. The kids were higher than the apple-tree, and she wanted to grow up faster.

In summer children with their father made a wooden little table and a bench near the apple-tree.

In five years the apple-tree thrived and could already brag to the currant bushes that she isn't smaller than them. In the spring the white cloud of flowers shrouded her.

In autumn the apple-tree apples appeared on the apple-tree for the first time. The elderly man and woman were picking them, rejoicing and praising the apple-tree. It was nice to her.

So the years were passing by … the flowers and apples were changing, and the people remained the same. The apple-tree got used to them. In spring they were always planting something, in summer spudding, and in autumn harvesting. The kids were helping adults, and sometimes they were playing near the apple-tree. Once the girl embraced the apple-tree with her hands.

In autumn people were digging potatoes. The children who now matured were sitting on the sacks and were sorting out potatoes. The elderly woman sat down to have a rest under the tree. She was very tired, but she wanted to do as much work as possible.

The next summer is was all the same. The apple-tree was surprised why nothing changes in people’s lives. So it seemed to her. Once in the summer afternoon the man with the woman, not so young anymore, were lying and looking into the clear sky. " How good it is at the dacha", – she said, – " And we have the most beautiful apple-tree".

Some time at the end of the summer people arrived late at night. There was the cat lying in a wooden box. The man dug out a hole near the apple-tree, and the woman put the closed box into it. The young woman cried.

In September the apple-tree watched how they were undercutting the bushes around. Was afraid, what if suddenly they cut her down. But the man only cut off the excessive branches, as usual, so that the tree crown became round.

In October people took out a ladder from the shed and got onto the apple-tree. The ripe apples were falling to their heads, they were laughing.

So some more years had passed. Once the woman sat under the tree and began to cry. " Mother, where are you now? " – she asked the apple-tree.

In autumn the young people came to pick apples. The apple-tree hardly recognized the boy and the girl who were playing under her many years ago.

The next spring people arrived only in May. The woman was tidying up the shed. The man sat down near the tree, the young woman made a photo of him. He had a very thin yellow face. The apple-tree watched how he was walking along the garden and making photos of cherries, apple-trees and plums, as though he doesn't hope to see them next year.

The autumn. Nobody came to prepare and warm up the apple-tree to winter. She was sad and withering. Random bums came to tear off some apples, but familiar people didn't appear.

The winter, the spring and the summer passed. The shed give a lurch on one side, and the vegetable garden began to turn into the forest. The apple-tree began to worry about people. But no one came anymore.

2015

Childhood dreams

I remember myself from the age of four. We were standing near the house of my mother's friend and chatting with her daughter. We were wearing the same caps. Then I actually don't remember much. I knew we had long walks with my mother and father, went fishing and mushrooming, swimming and visiting our datcha, but it's vague. I only know I had a good childhood and I was happy. At five I started to read and my father showed me how to play chess. These two things were always the best in my life.

When I was eight, I went to school. There life wasn't so cheerful. Pupils bullied me. I didn't want to talk to them. Was afraid of teachers too, so I could hardly answer their questions. Only in writing I could do well. I always wrote good essays at school. At home I was studying chess and reading a lot of books. Started from fairy-tales, I soon got to more serious literature, and it was my main joy. I hardly ever socialized. I never had any friends at school. I was just sitting and reading books for hours. I met people in books. I was writing short stories and poems from the age of seven.

I had been going to the art school for seven years. I actually wanted to attend music school, but had no money for instrument. Music was always the most beautiful thing in my life. No one bulled me there, but still I couldn't manage to make any friends. I was always alone, drawing some pictures in my corner. When I was thirteen, my granny, a biology teacher, gave me some books among which was Brehm's Life of Animals. It determined my interest for biology. I started to grow fishes and snails at home, dreaming to create a new gorgeous sort of guppies. At thirteen I started to have notions that God is watching me everywhere and that there’re cameras somewhere in my room.

The problems at school started about at the age of thirteen too. I was so afraid I couldn't go to answer teachers questions in front of the whole class. Pupils laughed at me. When I was at home, I could hardly remember the things we had to learn by heart or paraphrase. I was so afraid to go to school I sometimes went for a walk instead of lessons. I was horrified a teacher might ask me and I couldn't recall anything. Often teachers asked me if I study at home at all. They didn't believe I was tediously preparing for every lesson. Once I got so exhausted by preparing for exams, I felt unable to do anything. I was just sitting on the bed and sorting out some ribbons for hours.

Pupils bullied me or ignored, as I wasn't able to talk to them. And they thought me silly. I got some good grades for subjects I liked most and those that didn't require learning things by heart. When I was fifteen, a chess club was opened in our little town, and I went there to get acquainted to lots of nice and intelligent people and to attend tournaments. Also I continued to write poems. At the age of sixteen I started to have strange notions. I started to have severe insomnia from seventeen, was prescribed meds, but they were too sleepy, and I gave it up. So it became typical of me to go to bed at 3am. At that time I was only good at math, literature, English and biology at school. It restricted my choice for further education. I entered a good university not far from my town to become an English teacher. It saved money too.

At university things got a little better. I started to have some kind of memory. I was getting ready for examinations, I learned how to remember things for a day or two. Then everything was erased from my memory. But I managed to pass exams well. Sometimes things got shown when I was passing some psychology tests. I was avoiding public speeches. Teachers suspected something. Sometimes I was not very logical when writing my papers. But that was all. Things changed when I was twenty two. My father got sick with cancer and died in a year. At that time I became paranoid and started to think people were after me on the Internet. I suspected lots of people to chase me. It went on for about three years, till I finally had a psychosis with voices and was sectioned. I had to give up chess from tiredness and memory lapses, and I've not been playing for three years already. Had to give up some good jobs too. Now looking back at all this, I see I might have been ill since childhood and was struggling all the time to be " not worse" than others, though it took all my energy. I couldn't manage to keep sane, but at least I managed to grow into a person. I managed not to do much harm in my life and be intelligent enough. I gained some good friends when I started to take meds. Meds made me socialize more. Life wasn't perfect, but I had some joy, and it's still not over. The pages of my life aren't counted yet.

Psychosis №5

“I forgive you and I’m not angry that you killed all my relatives. I know everything. I know, that I was chosen when I was about ten years old as an object for experiments of the aliens. And I know that you love me”. I wrote the last phrase in twitter and got lost in thought. One person was mocking and bullying me on the Internet and even wrote me that “the cr*d has to be driven to suicide”. Yes, they were spying over me and thought about killing me, but how serious it was in reality? What consequences can be there?

Suddenly I heard a voice somewhere from inside of my head: “He suicided”. I quickly started to think. The voices continued: “His supporters won’t touch you, he told them that you’re not guilty. But some people in the government of other countries might want to kill you”. I quickly started to delete browser’ history and deleted my twitter. Then, savvied that this wouldn’t help, I understood that the only way out is to get rid of the computer.

I snatched my notebook and started to get dressed. Then ran to the door. My mother got frightened and tried to make me stay. After long suasion I understood, that I won’t be allowed to get the notebook into the forest. I looked around myself in despair. There were cameras everywhere in my room. “You see I did good! I killed the Satan! ” – I was inwardly saying, “Why don’t you help me? ”. Suddenly it dawned on me that I have to go to people and ask for help. Getting out of the house was not easy too. Mother suspected something. Having put on the boots barefoot, I ran out of the house.

I didn’t go to the police, as I usually did – there are his supporters there, for sure, they will kill me. Walked through the town council, but couldn’t gather strength to tell anyone what’s happening. People looked at me with curiosity. “They know. Yes! They know, that others have already sent killers for me. I have to run. But where? ” Finally, it came into my head to speak to my classmate. “But what if he us not from them? Maybe, he will help me to run away! ”. But he wasn’t at home. His neighbor looked at me with curiosity. “They want to kill me! ” – I was saying, - “I have nowhere to go! ”. She was one of them, for sure. She offered me to help me to get home. And meanwhile the voices continued to talk to me. I head the thoughts of all people on Earth. I wasn’t surprised – I’m god, for me it’s going to be an every day job – to hear their thoughts and to inwardly answer them. I heard voices before.

I came home. I was tired and had no strength to struggle with fate. “I’ll be killed. Well. I accept it. I’ll be of more use in Paradise”, - I thought. I had blister on my foot and I didn’t want to run anywhere. “They won’t kill you. They have already negotiated”, - the voices were telling me, - “And you know, how did he kill himself? He put his head into a formic bunch! ” I felt joy. Suddenly I felt that some alien influence is raping me. It was him. The voices talked: Satan is an alien creature. He rules the world”. I realized that I gonna have a child, and perhaps, not in nine months, but in a far shorter time.

I started to recall how I tried to practice out-of-body experience techniques sometime in my youth. Just like now, I closed my eyes and plunged into the journey among unknown creatures and portals. I was looking for the way to Paradise. It was necessary for me to get out of this body. I couldn’t stay on this Earth, where my body was desecrated by evil spirits, and going out of the house was scary. “Yes, people are angry, that you’re god, they might kill you”, - the voices were debating. At the same time I was hearing thoughts of the people who thought about me.

I haven’t found the portal to Paradise. Having been in bed for two hours, I went to have a snack. “Your mother is one of them. Half of the people on Earth are for the evil, and half- for the good” – voices were whispering, “Satan loves you. Your mother tried to poison you by gas last night, but he removed gas and replaced her with a robot. Now she is harmless. Don’t be afraid of her. ”. “Throw away the meds. They’re poisoned. Millions of people are dying from them”. I carefully wrapped the meds into a package, threw away into the bin, and took the bin into the pantry. “He made so that there Paradise come to Earth. People won’t be dying from illnesses anymore. They will live forever. You made it by your love”. But I didn’t want to stay on Earth. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be raped every day. And I knew that He forbade people to tell me that I’m god. “Yes, you’re god! ” – the voices were heard somewhere from afar. They weren’t silent al the same! But I knew, that at the next moment they fall dead. He killed them!

Having had a snack, I went outside. I wanted to stand near my porch and to think over everything. Suddenly I started to talk to the door. It seemed to me, that He was making signs to me. If the door sways back – it is “no”, if it swings forth – it is “yes. The negotiations continued for an hour. I knew, that everything is been recorder on millions of cameras and transmitted into the minds of people all around the world. I tried to urge him to let all people tell me, that I’m god. But I didn’t succeed in it.

Coming home, I noticed that mother’s eyes changed somehow. “He instilled into her, so that to talk to me! ” - I thought. Me and her started to talk by hints and secret signs. I liked it very much. I was just making fun of him. I knew he found it unpleasant. Hiding from mother, I took razor blades and put it into my locker. “Just in case”, - I thought, “What if I won’t manage to get out of my body another way”.

Gradually I came to conclusion that it’s necessary to drive this evil spirit to suicide, so that he dissipated around the Universe and wouldn’t bother people anymore. I continued to talk to voices, and they were telling me a story of aliens’ misdeeds. Mother offered me to go to the hospital. I gladly agreed. “His supporters will kill me there”, - I thought, “and so I’ll be in Paradise and I’ll expel him from there! ”

The neighbors heard me shouting “Die, username! ” Little did they know, that I was saving the world from the ecumenical evil. On my way to the hospital I continued to talk both to the voices and to him. I was inducing him to kill himself. It continued for an hour. Finally, the voices reported me, that my plan succeeded. “The Earth is free from evil! The aliens will go away from our planet! ”

I was glad I didn’t have to kill myself anymore. I calmed down. And in several days the voices disappeared at all.

2016

New Year's Day

The department store was merrily glittering with smart little lights from bulbs. New Year was approaching. “One hundred rubles a day… and I’ll have to buy food on this money for a month…” – she thought. The disability money was hardy enough to pay communal payments. And the prices were getting higher all the time… Some time ago they could let themselves a New Year’s cake, but now they limited themselves with one saucepan of salad.

Having bought some bread, potatoes, pasta and rice, she went home. Her mod was not festive at all. But the snow was crunching, people were smiling to each other, and everything was as usual – just like in childhood…

…The kids were sitting and drawing pictures, everyone in one’s own corner. She was attending that art school for many years, and almost hated drawing. Now she was twelve. But there was one advantage there – there was a piano in the corner of the big hall. Having done drawing, she often came near it and dreamt how she would learn to play. Sometimes they let her open the piano and play simple melodies that she learned at home, by a teach-yourself book. It was happiness.

When she had been five, she asked her parents to let her study in the music school. But they had no money for any instrument. And at ten parents of her friend, who moved to St Petersburg, bought her an old piano. Though she didn’t want to play much. This piano was first offered to her parents, but they refused – they had no money.

Often she came into despair, noticing that she was not five years old already, and her hands were gradually becoming insufficiently flexible for playing. But she consoled herself that she would surely buy a piano and learn how to play when she grows up.

… On her way home she peeped into the park. The winter made it comfortless, but in the nearby houses the New Year’s trees and colour music were gleaming, and it felt like people were rejoicing at the upcoming holiday…

… She was ten. She came into the library and asked some literature on chess. There were several books still on hand on some little shelf, but they lasted out for several years to her. Chess puzzles, composition, information on strategy and tactics… she was dreaming that someday a chess club would appear in her little city, and she would start playing with real people. It happened, but many years later. However, that club was soon closed…

Suddenly she saw a woman she knew, who was working as a barmaid at a single chess tournament that was organized in her town, in the distant 2009. An old woman warmly greeted her. – And are you still writing notes about chess for that chess newspaper? – she asked.

– No, now I’m visiting local poets’ gatherings. Though it’s dull there. They’re all too cheerful…

The old woman looked at her without understanding. She didn’t want to explain that the editor of that newspaper was dead long ago… and for getting a job in the newspaper or in his firm, she would have to sleep with him. And she refused…

… Her parents were thumbing though a handbook of universities together with her. – Who would you like to be? – her mother asked. – An interpreter… or a programmer… well, or a chess player! – she answered. Then she recalled that she doesn’t have a computer either, and it’s unknown when it will appear. Sometimes her father brought a notebook from work, and she played chess on it.

This will not do. You know very well, we have no money. And you’ll have to pay lots of bribes in big universities. You won’t be able to study in St Petersburg. So what, that you have the highest passing score in the local university. So study there! Or work and earn money yourself!

She thought about her feeble health, insomnia and neurasthenia and gave up.

– All right. There will be English, at least. Though I hate the teacher’s profession.

– You’ll get used to it. Everyone studies and works. We don’t choose whom to be. To where the fate will bring you…

… On her way home she met several dogs. She tried not to shout, though it was not pleasant. The dogs reminded her of one chess player who was harassing her and was walking his dog near her windows in the morning. Once she ran from one dog, and she bit her. The following years, seeing a dog, she stopped and screamed. And now the fear disappeared. She just loudly said “Stop! ”, and dogs were walking away…

In the ninth form, having given up studying physics, – after all, she understood at that time already, that it was unpromising exercise, – she became fond of English. She had little strength, and all the time she gave to studying of English grammar. Phonetics she had to study on the book of French phonetics by Shcherba, that she found in the library by chance. As a result, at the same time she started to study French too and read books in French. But that hadn’t gone far. In the university most students were studying on paid courses of French, but she had no money…

… It was cozy and warm at home. Though she bought too expensive rice accidentally, and made mom angry a bit by that… But there was a nice evening ahead, with books and music… though she recalled something else, not exactly suitable to the meeting of the New Year…

… – You’re a beggar, like my mother on pension! So what, if you have disability, you have to work by your profession! You’re not silly, aren’t you? – edified her one of her acquaintances.

– You have to try harder! You’re just lazy! – edified another, – and by the way, I know a girl, she sucked to one guy for a mobile phone… but you’re not like that, aren’t you?

– And on the whole, we fear that people might want something from us… – hinted others.

It was useless to explain to them, that she doesn’t like her profession, that she has problems with memory, communication, apathy and abulia. The symptoms of her illness only convinced them that she was bad…

… She made a salad with champignons and cheese, and sat down to have supper with her mom. It was lonely a bit, but she was glad she had relatives. And that another year passed, that resembled all the rest. The fireworks were just starting near her window, as she went to sleep. And fell asleep at once.

Leaves rustling

The early autumn of 2017. I’m walking along the park. The leaves are rustling under my feet, and the easy breeze is making the trees swing.

I watch how pigeons are pecking sunflower seeds near the benches. The pensioners and mummies with children already don’t stay in the park for a long time. I don't sit down on the bench too – it’s cold and uncomfortable. I’m wandering, enjoying the smell of cones and wet grass, and the sun though is shining, but it doesn't warm any more. I fade waiting for the moment when the still warm beam will fall onto my face. I go further. At my heart it is nice and quiet. I’m inhaling the cool autumn air and I feel how precious life is and how unesthetic death is. And my thoughts are carrying me away far … a year ago …

The summer of 2016 came to an end. I woke up from the strange feeling of emptiness in the head. " It is a depression after psychosis, as usual", – I thought.

Lately the periods of a mania came on me three times a year though I also took meds. Something was constantly provoking them. I was worrying, as usual, over any trifle. But most often – because of people and their attitude to me. Sometimes – from thoughts about how to earn myself a living and to find even simple job not to starve to death. My bad mood was smoothly changing into depression and back. But this time it was worse, than usually. I was thinking of suicide. Thoughts about suicide became habitual to me in eight years of illness. I was considering different ways to commit suicide, when it seemed as if it was absolutely impossible to live.

I came to VK and read the message from some unfamiliar guy:

– Hi, you are very beautiful, let's meet. I want children from you.

– Sorry, but in the next two years I am not going to get into a relationship with anyone.

– And why? Something happened?

– I just want to kill myself. Or perhaps I should go to hospital for half a year or for a year. I feel very bad.

The interlocutor didn’t know what to answer.

One of my friends – a schizophrenic – suggested me to get married:

– In October we will get married! We’ll have five children, we will visit church and pray. Let's live in poverty!

I felt funny. He offered me for the fifth time already, but once, when I agreed, he told me:

– No, I really can't. It is necessary to look after my parents. And I’m sick, it will be difficult for us.

It was a hard evening. I convinced myself that I’m intelligent, beautiful and kind, and those who call me names – are evil people. Otherwise I could not survive.

" And in the summer I will go to the sea … to any sea… only to inhale salty air again, to listen to the seagulls and to lie on salty waves", – I thought. Such thoughts awakened in me again a wish to live.

And the memory was carrying me away far … one and a half years ago …

… I woke up and switched off the bothering melody. Turned the alarm clock ten minutes ahead. It was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon. It was possible to sleep some more.

The bright sun looked through the curtains. Outside the window the birds were singing. The small town was awaking. It was the middle of May, 2015.

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