“What are we talking about now?” I sat down in the armchair across from my parents after they somehow had managed to get me to leave the security of my room.
“Your father and I talked about your behavior for a long time, and we came to the common conclusion that this can no longer happen. You are persistently ruining our reputation with your actions.” My mother addressed me in an icy tone, almost as if she was talking to one of her business partners and not her own child.
Why did I hope just for a moment that they finally figured it all out, when I know it’s impossible? They don’t care about me or the real reasons for my behavior, just as they never cared. The only thing they always care about is their stupid reputation.
“And how come, mother?” I pretend to be indifferent, though I scream deep inside. This process is so practiced that sometimes I am scared of how normal all this has actually become for me.
“You have to stop going to that drug addict’s tomb. What will people think first about you and then about us?” My father addressed me in a much harsher tone, and I looked at them with wide eyes.
Even they knew, and I didn’t.
“That’s what this is about? It bothers you that I go to the grave of my best friend?” I try to digest the information while the two of them nod insensibly.
“Well, I really can’t help you this time. When you asked me to transfer to a private high school and leave all my friends behind, I listened to you. When you asked me to give up Philology and enroll in Management, I listened to you. But this is really too much. I won’t leave Dima,” I let them know that that’s not gonna happen.
“I will remind you, Victoria, that he left you first. He didn’t think about you,” my mother observes me insensibly, my eyes slowly filling with tears.
“That’s not true,” I say through tears, aware that I’m actually the biggest reason that he’s gone.
“It’s not true.”
“Victoria, grow up. In this world, everyone watches only themselves. Love and friendship are stories for little kids. You need to finally understand that.” I don’t think I’ve ever despised my father as now.
“He has done more for me than you two will ever do. He was there for me because you two never were. He knew me better than I know myself. And you two now want me to stop visiting his grave?” I look at them with disgust, so I decide to roll over my lips things I wanted for a long time, but I didn’t have the courage.
“If I could choose who would stay here, between the two of you and him, I would always save him,” I feel a strong slam, but I just sigh, not showing a single emotion in front of them. Even that little bit of love I had for them just disappeared.
“You can kill me, I don’t care,” and as he watches me angrily, I notice a dose of concern in my mother for the first time. But it’s too late now.
“Give me the car keys,” he ordered, and I handed them over reluctantly.
“Phone, too.” I looked at him for a moment, so, aware that I could only annoy him even more, I slammed the phone off the wall. The cracks on my fucking phone can hurt him more than all those scars on my hands.
“You won’t get a new one,” he still doesn’t seem to understand.
“I do not want a new one. I don’t want anything from you because you disgust me. In fact, you both disgust me. Both you and your millions,” I coldly say while I die inside.
The only thing I really wanted all my childhood was their love. Interestingly, that’s the only thing I could never actually have.
“You can take everything I have, but you can’t forbid me to visit him. And you know why? Because I will go by my feet, if necessary.”
“I sincerely pity you because there is not a single person in this whole world who would do something similar for you. And you see, dear father, for the sake of a drug addict, who is even no longer alive, I am ready for everything.” Mom obviously realized that this was slowly getting out of control, so she reminded him of an important meeting, which they can’t be late for.
He glared at me once more, then marched out of the apartment, finally leaving me alone. As soon as I hear the door slam, I collapse to the floor, aware that I can no longer pretend to be unconcerned. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I think about how he raised his hand to me for the first time.
I was left without the only person who genuinely cared about me. Isn’t that enough? Do I still have to suffer? What sin have I committed when I have to atone for it like this?
•Fedya’s pov•
I nocked, but no one answered. Once again, with a sigh, I look at the gold tile with the surname Cheryshev. I grab the doorknob, though aware that that’s not gonna help. She doesn’t want to see me.
I am surprised when I realize it is unlocked. Vika never leaves the door unlocked. I walk in slowly, absorbing every detail.
“Victoria,” I shout, but she doesn’t respond. Maybe she’s just sleeping, no need to panic.
Hell no. A million bad scenarios have already gone through my mind.
I hurry to her room, but I don’t find her there. On the nightstand, I see Dima’s open letter, the one that caused everything to go to hell.
I allow myself to look around the room for a moment. Her clothing was spread across the floor of the room. One of the countless frames, which preserve her memories with Dima, was smashed to pieces.
What actually worries me the most is the verse, which she wrote on the wall. I never liked that she listens to Face. It’s not music that can help you when you’re feeling bad. In fact, it just kills you even more.
Депрессия — моя богиня, и в крови рука у меня опять
“Victoria!” I call her again, aware that she won’t answer me. I head for the living room, not realizing where she is. And then I froze when another scenario passed through my mind.
I go to the kitchen, and I feel relieved when I realize that I’m not late this time either.
“Give me that knife,” I say softly, reaching for her. She looked at me for a moment, then burst into tears, obviously aware of what had almost happened.
I unlock the phone, then pause for a moment to think. I make a decision, even though I know she will never forgive me.
“Hey, Dan, you can’t leave,” I let him know as she watches me in horror. My heart stops when I see the scars. Who knows how long this has been going on, and I don’t know anything about it.
“What are you talking about?”
“Victoria tried to kill herself.”
ns 15.158.61.39da2
