The Exam

He stood in front of a door covered with dark-brown paint. He couldn’t put his hand on the doorbell, for the conversation was hard and it was hard to start it all. And scary.

“Here we are,” he thought. “Three years of study! And this fucking exam in information! To a fucking bitch who knows less than me!”

Again, as usual, he lagged far behind other students, but the price of great effort and nerves bought him everything except the exam in information science.

Anton looked at the doorbell again. “Come on, man, ring or go home.” He reached out and rang.

***

Irene was washing the floor when she heard the bell ring. Her mother had gone to the beach, she was all alone. She put the mop aside and opened the door, expecting to see a neighbor or a friend of hers. But, there was Anton, her former student, and she understood everything.

“Good morning, Irene Sergeyevna,” he murmured.

“Good morning, Anton.” The girl leaned against the hall wall and crossed her hands.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s important...”

Anton was shocked. This girl seemed to have nothing in common with the bitch at the university. Her hair was done in a ponytail, and the short dress revealed her bare legs and arms. “Fuck me,” Anton thought.

Irene noticed him staring at her and she realized how silly she looked in her old dress and barefooted. But she couldn’t turn him out...

“Please,” he turned, letting him in, then shut the door. They went to the kitchen. The floor was still damp.

Anton sat on a chair. Irene joined him.

“I’m all ears,” she said.

Anton rubbed his chin and looked at her.

“Irene Sergeyevna,” he said, “We’ve our third exam on Monday, and I need to be admitted. Your exam, that is. Yes, it’s my fault, but... After the exam I will be ready to pass everything. Almost all of the works are ready. Can you pass me, and I will work it later? I promise–”

“This is against the rules, and you know it.”

“You doubt that I will solve it?”

“Students get their marks for their work. Sorry, but such are the rules.”

“We both know I can solve.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen you at the lectures or at the labs.”

“Just one chance–”

“Each year we turn out a lot of students who don’t want to study. Why do you think we shouldn’t do the same to you?”

“Irene Sergeyevna, I believe you should turn out those who cannot study!”

“Can you?”

“Yes I can!”

“No you can’t!” Irene raised her voice. “It’s the fourth time you’ve failed. I know that you are a gifted student, but it’s not enough! Why do you think the rest of the guys do well, and you don’t? Because they know what discipline is. And you don’t. Well, you could, but you don’t want to. You see no interest in it.”

Anton froze in his chair. Her words made him fly into a rage. How does she dare! Decide his life!!!

“So I am sure that joining the army will do you good–”

Irene wanted to shock him and make him think about his life. It was powerful tactics. But there was one thing that she forgot: it’s not enough to have the right to punish. It’s also important to know how to use it.

Anton caught her neck and threw her down on the floor. Irene, shocked, seized his fingers, trying to tear them from her throat. Anton punched her in the belly as hard as he could, twice. He reached for the dryer and took out a large knife. Irene looked at him in terror. Her dress revealed her bare ass. And this dirty bitch wanted to ruin his life?! Let’s see who ruins whose life!

He plunged the knife in her belly. Then again. And again. Irene moaned and covered the wound. Red blood spurted onto the freshly washed floor. Irene rolled on the floor, the pain was terrible.

“Please!” she prayed. “Anton, please, don’t–”

“Lots of bitches die every year,” he answered. “Why do you think I should make an exception for you?”

“No... Please... Don’t–”

“I have to finish my work. Sorry, but such are the rules.”

He stepped on her back, rolled the ponytail around his left hand, craning her neck. The knife wasn’t very sharp, but soon it was all over.

He barely remembered what happened then.

“She never asked me why I wasn’t ready. It’s her fault. Her fault.”

He wandered and didn’t notice where he went.

“The station? Why? Do I want to get away? Where? It’s hopeless...”

He was hopeless. It was all over. He was a murderer. It wasn’t even the army – it was worse. It was the end.

Anton missed two trains, and then jumped on the railway just before the third train.

***

P.S. The murder of a teacher and the suicide of the guilty student took place five years ago. All the rest is the author’s fantasy.

Copyright by Archer (2002).

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