Read the book: «Dead end»

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Cover designer Arnold Vilpo

ISBN 978-5-4493-9480-4

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Breath in is a drop of life. Breath out is a particle of death.

There is nothing between them except for the numerious scenarios and options to choose, and that choice you have to make every moment.

Any result received is a kind of examination taken in the process of studying the subject, which is viewed through the one’s in the lens of consciousness, and a causal link between the created and the tidal wave of the situation.

Life suggest its own options for death, and the death confirms the choice once it is taken.

In loving memory of my grandmother Maria.

Introduction

Life regularly brings us so much of unexpected, and the most of it is unpleasant, and sometimes really terrifying, taking away all our strength and breaking us. And then, when we appear in an extremely desperate situation and suppose that it just could not been worse, we have take much harder trials and tests. Only when having lost everything, we start understanding and being aware of the real values of life, of what is significant and what only lasts for a certain time period.

This story, so sad, that it can be even called a tragic story, is about one ordinary young man that does not differ from us in any way. He could hardly be noticed in the crowd due to his extraordinary appearance. There are thousands, or even millions of people like him.

But if you only glimpsed on what’s happening inside his soul, his consciousness, then, for sure, you would not remain indifferent. He constantly faces the difficulties that cut ground from under his feet, the grave losses, but it is not because of usual human absent-mindedness, but because of the tests and trials waiting for him: the death of the dearest, unjust accusations, prison, loss of his belongings and many other backblows of fortune that can bring any person to insanity, despair and, perhaps, even to the unwise disposal of their physical body, life…

What have happened with him and how he will finally act – will agree with the situation or take everything under his control and will leave all the grief aside, or maybe he will become so faint, that suicide will turn out to be the only reply to all the questions of him?

This will be told in details and in order while you turn the pages of this book.

1. Bridge

Night, November, and the weather there corresponds to the season – small drops of never-ending rain fall from the canopy of heaven, the air temperature is still barely above zero, the roads are wet and slippery, a little bit yellow from the sadly street lights, and the bright colors of the mighty city glyph far away.

“What a high bridge…” said the young man, slightly raising his voice from excitement and amazement, stepping over the fence separating the sidewalk from the roadway with the car parked next to it.

Carelessly stepping into the puddles, paying no special attention to them, he approached the railing, blocking his path into the cold stream of water from the procellous river, about twenty-five meters below. A fall from such a height if doesn’t kill right away, it will surely make a cripple of someone, and this will make self-rescue very difficult, taking into account the temperature of the water and the stream current. Even for a professional swimmer athlete, this is an almost impossible test with the less than minimum chance of survival.

The man about whom the story began, belonged to a middle-aged people, whose face is hard to notice, to make out, even with a great difficulty, only his silhouette and dark short hair were provided. He was of medium height, athletic build. Raising the collar of a black short coat, the central figure of the story was squinting from the rain, caught in the wind, flying straight to his face and running down his cheeks. Although it did bring him some discomfort, it didn’t disturb or worry too much. Inside him, and in this whole situation, there was some mystery, a certain dolor, sadness, and a huge bunch of lean questions.

“And what a beautiful view opens from here… A wonderful place to part with the world and life…”

2. Acquaintance

But first, let’s get acquainted. Let me introduce myself: my name is Harry. For thirty-six years I have been living on this beautiful Mother Earth, and this is a constant soul searching, a searching for answers to daily questions that arise.

My life was not simple, sweet and facile, I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth, rather with a wooden one, and then on my forehead. But my life was very colorful, vibrant, rich, it repeatedly threw me into the very abyss, but still did not allow me to be bogged down to the end, as if mocking me or trying to teach something new: worldview, feelings, relationships, understanding, values, and etc. There were many ups and downs in it, happiness always wandered somewhere nearby, but very often avoided me, I could hardly manage to catch hold of it, like a kitten running after a sunbeam.

Perhaps it’s better to start everything from the very beginning and we will move consistently, I will try not to miss anything, and also to tell what exactly made me come here.

So, my family was ordinary, I would even say, that it was the average family. In general, everything was as it should be, at least so it seemed to me at that time. Mother drank regularly; I have no brothers and sisters. I never saw my father, and if I did, then, probably, at such a small age that I did not even remember.

Mom, on the contrary, I was humbled to see every single day. Very often I would like not to see her, at least drunk, but I was left without this happiness. As they say, we do not choose parents, but I still assume that they are chosen for us somewhere above even before our conception. It is determined with precision when and into which family we must get in order to complete the certain tasks assigned by the Lord to gain the power of the soul encased in the locked chest.

I think, they send us with definite goals, either to improve the family we fall into, or not to spoil yourself and with all the terrifying things around not to come apart, but, on the contrary, to become stronger, better and kinder. I think so now, but then nobody explained it to me, there were no such assistants, at least not in my locality, therefore it was very often difficult and painful, because I had to learn via trial and error.

I did not have childhood as such. I did not go for a walk to the park, to the sea, to the zoo with my parents; I did not visit attraction, of course. I did not even attend kindergarten. I played at home with empty bottles and with watchdog named Jack the Ripper – the best childhood friend. Our main game was to find a safe place, so that our mother’s drinking buddies wouldn’t beat us, and the search for something to eat. The place where we lived, was hard to call home, so unhygienic with anti-human conditions there were. But it turns out that any member of the human race can adapt and get used to everything, even sleep on old things instead of a bed or at least a mattress, walk barefoot on such a sticky floor, that with great effort the legs come off, breathe the drunk waste and stink from rotten food and garbage, eat from dirty dishes, if you ever managed to find food. We used a hole in the floor as a toilet, and I heard about the existence of a bath only in fairy tales. But in what fairy tales? Just heard.

3. First loss

When I was six years old, my beloved mother died. Unfortunately, she never was able to stop drinking, and maybe she did not want to, I could never get an answer to this question.

Jack also died just a few months before my mother’s death, was kicked by some drunkard, which was enough in my environment, or rather, in the environment of my mother.

So, the seriousness of mother’s absence was unbearable, such as she may be, she still remained my only family and beloved person, even though she never gave me neither love, nor tenderness, nor attention, but only pushed me away at any convenient occasion. And also I was terribly missing my faithful dog, which had left irretrievably to the place where they did not return from, they were my family.

Initially, I was sent to an orphanage, but, fortunately, I didn’t have to stay there for long, as my grandmother was found later – my mother’s mother, who became my guardian, took me to her place and helped me to survive the pain of loneliness and the grief of loss.

This is rather large aged woman, with dark hair, a wide smile and bright sea-green eyes, which sparkled and radiated genuine joy and care, prepossessed so much and even tampered with her kindness, as she greeted me with strong, friendly arms. From the first seconds of our meeting, it became clear to me that I could trust her.

Living conditions in her apartment were much more attractive and satisfactory, and compared to where I lived before, I can easily call them royal chambers. I even had my own room. Some old things, clothes and toys were given to us by the neighbors, so I always had something to wear and what to do at any time. I even ate every day for three times, and sometimes it happened, that grandmother spoiled me with sweets. I brightened up and became happier every new moment as possible.

But, unfortunately, my grandmother was a middle-aged, and also an invalid, often having problems with her legs, which refused from time to time because of a serious spinal injury in early childhood, therefore she moved with great difficulty, so she did not work, and respectively, had little money: her pension and my child allowance, but it was practically enough for the living essentials. Sometimes she sewed and sold something, which resulted in a small additional income, which many times saved us from unpleasant situations. Because of her difficulties, there was less time left for me, so she played with me so rarely, paid little attention, but it was quite enough, because before I was receiving much less. So it’s a sin to complain, so I was always content and rejoiced at every minute spent with her, until it was time to go to school.

4. School

From the very first days I met child aggression towards myself, connected with my appearance: worn, big or, on the contrary, small clothes, slightly disheveled hair. In addition, I was rather curious, childishly naive, always carefully considered everyone who did not like others, and at the same time was very shy. When I was asked something, I could not answer, since I had little experience in communication. Because of this, I suffered, because I often remained silent and could not correctly state any thought, point of view, or simply to say a couple of words.

At first, many classmates joked on me, said bad things and mocked my person, the girls did not pay any attention to me, never talked to me, did not sit at the same desk, and when I asked them about something, smiled slyly, began to whisper with girlfriends, and then giggled, apparently, above me. I was really upset and hurt me deep down.

But let me tell you, dear reader, about one girl who studied in my class, named Jenny. An adorable angel, the most beautiful girl in school: long black hair, brown eyes that glittered, radiated warmth, happiness and joy. Low height definitely made her beautiful, it was definitely a plus by my personal assessment, she was always dressed very elegantly and neatly. It was obvious that she is from a good and decent family. Exceptional behavior and attitude towards people and, of course, amiable, sociable and affable to everyone, even to me. Her dearest smile gave me indescribable pleasure and was probably the only motivation for me to attend school.

Once in the spring of the third year, I collected a bouquet especially for her, the most ordinary bouquet of wild flowers went with it to school to present to her and confess my feelings, tell her about my first big love for a perfect girl. Stumbling in one place from horror and fear, dominating in my mind, I could not decide to do it for a long time. Carefully and indistinctly slowly, I gathered my thoughts to share the most intimate things that had accumulated in three years with this charming girl. As soon as I finally collected my thoughts and headed straight for her, then on the way near the school, or rather, almost just before its entrance, my classmates ran up to me and began to shout nasty things and obscene words, but I did not pay attention to, long ago got used to their nonsense. Then someone, realizing that the words had not made any effect on me for a long time, with the full force kicked me in the back. I fell and dropped the bouquet, which all fell apart. With wild laughter, the guys trampled on the flowers, which gave the last fragrance, and the guys still kicked me lying down.

I grouped and took the heat as much as I could, but then, I opened my eyes, and saw in front of me a stone about twice the size of my little fist. Gathered up courage, I grabbed him, at first got down kneeling, then got up and with all my might belted the head of one of the attackers, smashing it into the blood. He fell, and the rest of the guys retreated, open-mouthed from what they saw and held their breath. The injured rose, but he no longer laughed like a horse, but screamed like a chick, who was taken from under his mother’s wing, wrapped his head with his arms. And at that very moment, the teacher ran out into the yard, and saw only the ending of the whole incident, and began to shout like a fire alarm, that I would suffer a serious punishment. Then, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, she led me to the director for further proceedings as the main thug and suspected of the crime.

There they didn’t talk to me for long and did not fuss about, that boy remained alive and well, and I was expelled from school, because they didn’t believe any of my words, respectively, I couldn’t prove anything to help my self-defense, including that fact that I am not guilty, but only try to defend myself. My appearance and most of my classmates’ false testimonies were not in my favor, so I had to leave this school and my beloved Jenny, whom I never get a chance to confess my feelings. They took her away from me even the opportunity to talk to her for the last time.

My whole body was covered with bruises and abrasions, but it hurt most inside, in the chest area. And another heavy loss of mine came to me. I did not eat or drink, actually did not sleep for a very long time, and my thoughts flew in the clouds, justifying themselves and shouting in unison about the unjust decision, about my exclusion. I also thought that I had to suffer for the truth and, the most importantly, that we would not be together with Jenny, as I had imagined at any free moment of the day and night.

5. After the second loss

I became calmer and looked easier to all things with the course of time. Being so emotional, impressionable and sentimental, I quickly became upset and made a big deal out of everything, but my grandmother helped me once again to come through a new difficult moment. She talked to me more often while she took away my attention from bad thoughts and sadness, thanks to her I didn’t manage to do any stupid things and soon forego from a sad state and negative thoughts.

Then I was redirected to another school, for difficult teenagers, because I was awarded a characteristic from a previous school… how to say softer? Very foul – quite the right word. Besides, I did not want to lose a whole year in search of a good educational institution. The new class brought hope with a negative value: all were dirty, grubby, untidy, rude. Nobody respected the teachers, did not listen to them, everyone snapped, were rude about any thing and without any reason, called each with rude names, organized constant skirmishes and fights among themselves, many of them used foul language, even more badly than many adults, smoked, and they not only smoke cigarettes, drank, there were even addicts who sniffed glue.

At first glance, we could easily be confused, since our appearance was not very different from each other. My clothes were second-hand, like others’ clothes, and I could not afford any new things. Although I was calmer and more attractive than the other guys, and I didn’t smoke, sometimes I also had squabbles with teachers; probably it shows the herd instinct. As it turned out later, our destinies had a similar character and story: the same childhood, or rather its absence.

By the end of my school studies, my personal record of success was: triple attempts to be expelled, and I was nearly left for the second year. Only thanks to the ability to negotiate and do what was necessary, when you need salvation, and also to say what the teacher and director expect to hear, even if you don’t want to follow the system, I managed to avoid problems, fix everything at the last moment and even go to the next classes of education. It was all due to the out-of-school yard (opened arms of) real life.

But before this stage, many more things happened, as well as many changes, both within me and in my environment.

Of course, bad company cannot but affect my development. First, I lit a cigarette, just for company’s sake and then often began to drink, with so called ‘friends’ commonly referred to as drinking buddies, alcoholic beverages of any variety and of the different degrees.

Of course, we had very little money, so we had something to steal, resell, share, some of our company even started selling, let’s say, illegal products to improve mood, in other words drugs. I didn’t get to it, but I also take things not belonging to me. So we earned and survived, because did not know or did not see the other options.

But this did not last long, until I was caught and brought to justice. Many times I was caught, but released, since the thefts were small and the age was also small. There were a lot of critical situations, but I managed to escape, so I can’t say that I was doing it only once. And they caught me stealing an expensive watch, I did not manage to escape from the crime scene in time and quietly get rid of the loot.

There was a trial, but they didn’t give me a real term, since they don’t give a term to minors, only a fine, a warning, a reprimand and a month of community service. In principle, then I stopped this activity, but not because of fear of the police, but still realizing it’s not good to take someone else’s. This happened because of one young man with whom I was in a ward, awaiting court. He just explained that people work really hard to earn for his family, to feed it, but then there are such zingers, who take away everything that is not theirs, thus deteriorating the situation and their family relationships. The thieves, meanwhile, do not become richer, because they do not know how to manage the funds. Thus, I will not become happier, but in the end everything will return to each of us and each be rewarded according to merit. Something like that he was telling me, this dialogue happened long time ago, I don’t remember everything word for word. How strange, maybe even funny it was that one criminal taught the other. Maybe it’s all the same; it is rightly, because to understand the other person, you need to understand his feeling and experience them, having passed a similar path.

At first, friends remained the same after that, and their work is also not changed, I still kept company with them. I didn’t even have to do anything, they gave me everything bestowal. And even though I stopped stealing and in this respect I became better, but from the other side began to change in the opposite direction from the good.

I started attending school less often. Sometimes I responded with rudeness to strong pressure from the teachers, and this disrespectful attitude to the elders seemed normal to me. The louder I argued with teachers, the better I became, as I thought, and cooler, and more authoritative in the eyes of my age mates. Sometimes I had to do lessons and homework, or rather, copy, not to be expelled. Devil-may-care attitude toward school was growing with powerful force, because at school I was not interested in anything, I went there only because of my grandmother and at her request. She wanted me to get a good education, got a stable, reliable work, became a decent man and to find my place in society. I didn’t care, I just nodded my head, the main thing was to get rid of all this.

My friends and I did everything we wanted on the street: walked, drank, and smoked. We did not return home for several days, spent the night, sometimes, on the streets, in doorways, sheds, attics, and everywhere else. In our company were present as well the small, to my deep sorrow at the moment, girls. Then we start to use drugs, especially since it was not difficult to get them, you just need to reach out. By the end of school I’ve tried so many things and seen such events that not every adult can even imagine, the more to boast or regret.

Many of our company, or rather everyone but me, was on the junk. At first I liked it a lot, since I dealt with it. Or maybe I could hardly distinguish the good from the bad, in particular, they did it all, and I didn’t want to stand out from the crowd, to be an outcast. But in the end, it became a wild bust for me.

Every day was becoming more and more frightful to see how the older guys helped to inject little thirteen year old girls. So to say, a mutual service, the girls gave them stuff, and then received an injection, without disdaining any used syringes, neglecting any hygiene, not choosing the injection site. No one thought about morality, decency, or sanitation.

The things were changing from bad to worse. When there was not enough money and there was a catastrophic lack of drugs, it even went so far that the guys were fighting among themselves, stealing everything from everyone: women, old women, children – it did not matter. My friends have increasingly transformed from ordinary young people into soulless bodies, zombies, with one low, rather low-lying goal – to receive intravenous pleasure. They no longer have anything human, no moral principles, sometimes it almost came to murder (I think that, unfortunately, it still did, but I, fortunately, did not have to see this). Many, who hardly exceeded fourteen years, though it is sad to realize, killed themselves from an overdose.

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