Three.. Goran Segedinac. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Goran Segedinac
Издательство: Tektime S.r.l.s.
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788873048848
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      “Kiss me again, Sandra said, looking at him with half-opened eyes. He laughs, and moves his lips closer to hers before blowing into the mug, sprinkling her with froth.

      “Get away, asshole!“

      She was laughing and hitting him. Then she put her hand in his and got closer quickly. He kissed her for a long time. His Sandra. He was aware of his happiness, and he hoped he would never get to know the things that might ruin it.

      There were two guys standing at their familiar place. They are making a toast. No trace of her. He searched the semi-dark privé, bar, chairs; peeked into the women’s bathroom. A crying teenage girl looked at him angrily.

      “Get away, this is for women!“

      “Excuse me.“

      He stepped onto the street. He must search for her. It would be easier if he knew where she lived now. She was never keen on technology. She left the letter in the mailbox, after he would hang up on her for the hundredth time, or he would spy on her through the door hole, every time she would try to sort things out between them. Every time she would even try to make conversation with him.

      Her scent was inside the pink envelope. The ring falls out on the floor, and the sound of paper unwrapping, revealing what’s inside.

      Egg.

      Dugi was partially eaten. She was grinding what was left of him and putting it in jars. He helped her. She had dozens of it.

      He has no strength to oppose her. She has complete control over him. He doesn’t know how, but he feels it. She untied him a long time ago. She lets him take a walk. The village was peaceful and untouched, a curtain moving here and now, but no signs of people. He doesn’t think about running away. If he walks away more than he can, he feels her claws on his neck and returns back. Then he eats, and he falls asleep, in case he doesn’t have to help in the kitchen.

      Egg.

      That night she woke him up, and gave him a roll of paper. He unwrapped it and looked at her, surprised.

      “If you break it you, I will kill you,“ she told him. “When you get out of here, just go straight, until you reach the first crossroad. You’ll then know where to go next. You’ll recognize the house. Go inside the courtyard and bury him at the doorstep. Don’t worry, there’s no one there now, but the housekeeper will return soon. You will use this black magic on them.”

      He reached his goal without problems, exactly the way the old woman said. It was a big house, obvious that it used to be a rich house. He dug a hole with his own hands, and buried him carefully. He seemed to hear some voices, just as Dugi used to hear them. But there was nothing around him.

      The old woman was satisfied. She caressed him.

      “Bravo, my son. Bravo, my dear.”

      He was shaking his head, a bit angry for the fact that he cannot forget her. His memories had many layers, and were profound; he would be the happiest if those war memories ceased. Then he could think about her without any trouble. It was too difficult this way.

      There was no egg in Sandra’s paper, only words. Difficult words that he had read so many times before. They were putting him in too much pain, but he was unable to cry.

      “My love,

      I hope you will be decent enough to read these lines. I don’t know what happened. I can understand the war, I can try to imagine the horror it brings. I also understand that you don’t want me anymore, but I don’t understand how you can’t look at me or speak to me.

      I waited for you, patiently and with pride. I was jealousy saving every emotion, imagining the moment you will come back into my life. However, it never happened. Not the way I wanted it, but the way it should have been.

      I can write to you about what I have went through, about terrible things such as the war itself, which were happening here. I will not do it, I don’t feel like doing it anymore.

      I am writing this to you, since I can’t leave you alone, in silence. I am giving you back the ring, hoping that one day you will have strength to give it to someone else. I wish this for you, from the bottom of my heart, with the same passion I had when I wanted to carry it on my hand forever.

      I sold the apartment yesterday. There were too many things that reminded me of you. I fantasized about us in every corner of it; waiting for you to come to my door, getting ready for our dates in the city. It was full of our past. My dad died, you have probably heard about it, so the apartment was, anyway, too big for me. The way things are now, we will never be in it together.

      I won’t be giving you my new address. I’m not angry. I just don’t want to hope anymore. It’s over.

      I wish you a lot of luck in your life.

      S. “

      He didn’t even think about blaming her for what he made her do. He used to comfort himself for a while, while the magic of the blues still worked –– that that was the best for her. Yet, he knew deep in his soul that the day when he will have to find her will come.

      Where could she possibly go?

      Somewhere around two in the morning, he became aware of the unpleasant possibility of failure. Only strong military will was making him continue with his chase. Cafes, clubs, he was going to them regularly to scan the guests. He wasn’t afraid of rushing, it wasn’t hard to spot Sandra. Especially not to him.

      Just look and you will find, he told himself. This is a small city; concentrate, and look.

      “Look.“

      The old woman grabbed his head and pulled him out of bed. Lately, he had problems distinguishing his dreams from reality, and he needed more time to wake up. As if it were taking the life out of him.

      “What am I looking at?“ he replied frightened.

      “Look! Through the window!“

      Moonlight illuminated the courtyard, it was clear as day. It was quiet as a cemetery, except for the wheezy breathing of the old woman, and his heart beating in his throat. There was a stunted pear tree in the courtyard, and in the treetop there was Darko. He could see him well, as if it were that day. He had his rifle in his lap, and was watching him quietly.

      “He is dead,“ he said to the old woman. “I killed him.“

      She laughed, and then spit into her fingers and waved her hands.

      “Come here, soldier, come here!“

      Darko jumped to the ground, light as a feather, and then directly to the window. He just went through the wall, and then he was beside the bed. His uniform was tight, his hair coiffed, eyes glazed and set deep in his head. You could barely see them.

      He stood still, looking at him.

      “That’s your soldier. Look at how he’s watching you,“ the old woman said.

      “He’s no longer my soldier. He’s dead.“

      “Nothing is dead, so neither is him. Come on, give him an order.“

      He kept quiet. He’d rather close his eyes and wait for this nightmare to pass, but he was afraid of the old woman.

      “Give him an order!“

      “Back off, soldier!“ he said quietly, and Darko went to the corner immediately.

      Before the war, he believed only in service. After the war, he didn’t doubt the existence of a higher power, but now, he was cursing it. Seeing Anna, he wanted to thank her for the first time. They were acquaintances, once upon a time. And if things haven’t changed, she would still be Sandra’s best friend. She was standing with two other girls in front of the food stand.

      “Anna.“

      A blatant look, and then a smile of recognition.

      “Hey. Hello“