what you need to do. Live life to the fullest, in love…
Arthur pulled out a gun and put the trunk to his temple. Shot, the body falls on deck, Arthur lies in the spreading a halo of his blood… The berth was filled with panic, but Natalie doesn’t hear, everything sounds like a dream, the sounds are muffled.
She fell on knees, and at her eyes, where the halo of Art’s blood was reflected, there was only the sea, a sea of tears.
SLEEP 2
– Are you sure that you should go to the funeral? – Xenia looked empathically at sad Natalie.
– I have to go, it’s my duty for a friend. – eyes looked around, in nowhere, her thoughts were not here.
– Can you stand it? I know that you are strong and you won’t break, but… Look in my eyes and say: “I will manage”.
She approached – Natalie and looked directly at her in eyes.
– I can handle! – her words sounded confident.
Not many people attended the funeral, Arthur admitted to only interesting people. His relatives stood in side, people came up and expressed their condolences.
A young man stood beside Natalie. He smelled this same sweet perfume, like Arthur. He wore a large hood, his face couldn’t be seen. You could see the malicious smile that plunged Natalie into perplexity and a little angry.
– Do you think it’s funny? – she reproached the guy.
– Sorry, he was just my friend, although we not were well acquainted.
The guy looked Natalie right in eyes, she shuddered. She still couldn’t see his face.
– Between us like an eternity, and As if we are one… Not I even know how Explain…
The guy turned away and was buried into themeditations, not arranging.
– I’m Natalie, – the girl held out her hand.
The stranger answered with an indifferent handshake, staying in his meditations, not telling his name.
– He asked me … – he said slowly, as if recalling what asked him Arthur about.
– Asked than?
Her words returned the guy to reality.
– Excuse me…
The guy headed towards exit from cemeteries.
Natalie watched him go, completely confused. About what did Arthur ask him? The people on the cemetery were looking at Natalie. She didn’t have time to think about this guy, she cringed and put her hands in pockets coat. There she felt a piece of paper. She reached and unfolded, seeing Arthur’s handwriting.
It said: “Everything turned out very tragically, in my style. Now you have to clear up my deed. We are bound by my death and your happiness. I planned all this for one week to my ascension. The price to tell you this is so high, I’m sorry. I acted like a bastard, but this outcome was the best. Not pay attention to people’s views, do what you always wanted, don’tdwell on my death. And it’s not worth living in this small town, you are not endure this…
My death laid the foundation for your happiness.”
Natalie glanced at exit from cemetery, but that guy disappeared, she wanted to escape, she was stopped by Xenia, who came to her.
– Are you OK? – Xenia’s voice returned to Natalie to the reality.
– No, I’m not OK. Arthur is right, I’m gone, – she looked into the distance, in the distance of the desert, where the clouds were already gathering. The girl’s eyes filled with tears.
– It is decided that there will be a sea here, – Natalie said with a grin.
How often do we hear the words: “Don’t go away, I need you”, ” I won’t live without you,”, ” I love you.”? And how much do they cost when we say them?. All this world depends on friend, on the moment and consequences of this relationship…
A we leave and only sometimes we think to return, when nothing can be returned.
SLEEP 3
6 months later.
Street, building, there is an inscription above the entrance “Psychological Assistance Center”. Let’s go to the hall, it’s empty, there is the rack and the inscription “Registrar”. Let’s go to the ladder on second floor, climb it, go to the corridor and we can see many offices. Let’s go to the one large study. It reminds the ward, there are chairs in center of the room standing in circle. Eight chairs, there are people on them facing each other, people of different ages, sex and appearance. In the corner there is a table and cooler with water, and there is sign on table: “AA society.” Let’s stop here.
Here stands a man with bald patch on head, in gray jumper and brown trousers – nothing remarkable.
– I declare open the evening of anonymous alcoholics!
He looked at attendees.
– Look, we have three new faces here, but let’s start with experienced. Nikita, let’s get you started.
The man sat on his chair, pointing at a young guy of about thirty.
The guy looked up, grinned and began to talk indifferently:
– Good afternoon. I love coming here – everyone is given pencils and badges, they say, enter your name. So that everyone could read it and refer to you with name. What’s that called, doc? If I don’tmistaken, “friendly attitude” – you are called by the name, and you don’tfeel abandoned. But it’s a collection of anonymous alcoholics! What the ridiculous title, if you still need to write your own name?
– That’s right, Nikita, here’s a friendly attitude, – a man with a bald spot smiled. On his badge it was written: “Roman, dock.”
– My name is Nikita, I’m 35 years. Hooked on alcohol with twenty-two years old. TI state in this community for two months, not I don’ttake a drop in mouth with these same pores. I was a rock musician, well, you see, we played good music, then euphoria came and girls take off the panties and jumped on you. But time has passed, and we are not managed to get into show business. Everyone needs girls, and not lads. Envy of money-bags, that’s killed us. They wanted to be us and just fucked us with your thick wallet.
– Just your music sucks, that’s it. – said the girl sitting next to him with a smoky voice.
– Hah, repeat this when you give me a blowjob, Mary, – The guy showed a defiant gesture.
– Let’s not argue! – interfered doc.
– I’ve ruined my best years of life because of this bastard. He promised me glory and money, and what did I get in return? – The girl looked at the audience for support. – And mow I’m in such a state because of him.
Mary pointed to Nikita. Nikita leaned back on the chair, remaining indifferent to what is happening. The girl desperately has plunged into his thoughts.
– Not the best start, dock, – an elderly and slovenly man said reproachfully.
– Then maybe you, Peter? – kindly suggested doc.
– All right, doc. I’m Peter, I don’t remember my age, and it is not important yet,. I was kicked out the work, and I began to drink. My wife left me and took the child, I didn’t care. But five years ago, when I saw my daughter entering Institute, I cursed everything. Cursed himself, cursed its weakness. It happens that you just lose yourself and can find it no longer. They call this the middle age crisis.
She, my daughter, was perfect. How could