The Suicide’s Soul
Saturday, 9:30 am. The mind resists, it can’t... what day is it today? Lena
turns over and thinks: she has always counted days from weekend to weekend,
Monday is bad, Tuesday is a bit better since the next one is Wednesday, day X,
after it starts the countdown, Thursday is a day of quiet happiness and waiting,
Friday brings disenchantment and tiredness, but you get your prize on the sixth
day. So today is the sixth day. So what of it?
She shut her eyes. I have to find a goal, an aim, I have to want something,
something good, something nice. It’s always the same with goals and aims – none.
She is tired again. She turns over and falls asleep again.
At 11:30 someone rings at the door. Lena curls into a little curl under her
eiderdown. One more ring. Knocking. She felt a wave of anger rise in her. “Yes!
This is it! This is the aim!” With a wild expression she got up and ran to the
front door. She was overwhelmed by strength, even if there were supermen behind
the door she would tear them into pieces. But there was only her collaborator,
Andrew.
“I’m sorry Lena, I just wanted to check you’re alright but I see you’re really
very ill,” he said looking at her blood stained tee. She was still in rage, she
wanted to slam the door in his face, but instead she said in a harsh voice she
was indeed very ill and could not go to work. She said it very quickly and shut
the door. Of course she knew they thought her a very strange girl and treated
her carefully, once she overheard a girl from the other department say Lena
would look at her strangely. Lena was no lesbian anyway. It was much simpler,
they simply couldn’t understand her ideas and motives, her plans and desires, so
they thought it better to leave her to herself. They tried to explain everything
by television categories, well, you’re no worse than others... and no better...
Slowly, like a somnambular, Lena went to her bed again. She fell on the wet
sheets and dug her head into the pillow. After an hour she fell asleep again.
She dreamed of a large plain, a yellow plain with clouds so low in the sky they
could fall anytime. Strong wind was blowing. In the middle of the plain stood a
large house. Lena slowly approached the house – it looked secure and good. She
entered it and saw a lot of pigs inside. Each pig had a little comfortable room
and sometimes there were several big and little pigs in one room. “Those are
families,” Lena thought. She went to one of the pigs which lay reading a
newspaper.
“Dear piggy, could you please tell me what this place is?” Lena said smiling.
The piggy jumped up to its four feet.
“Are you crazy? I’m not a pig! Look at my house! Look at my family! I was the
first reporter at the three congresses of our empire! The first congress was
devoted to pigism, another to piglore and pigprogress and the third one, to the
future of the pigcivilization. Listen, here are the main theses of my latest
report!” The pig jumped to its feet, took a large megaphone and said, “oink oink
oink oink oink oink oink oink oink oink...”
She opened her eyes. Another misanthrope’s dream. Those pigs have a wonderful
and most effective weapon – lies. Such weapon is implanted directly into the
brain, too bad it’s too late to implant one in my own, she thought.
She felt tired again, such thoughts seemed to be pressing over her, and there
was no one to help her deal with them. And no one there will be. She knew it.
She was tired of being lonely, but it was her choice, her freedom, her self, she
wouldn’t even exist any other way. She could not communicate with men. They were
either losers she hated, or lazy morons thinking themselves too perfect for her.
She hated them, too.
The zombie’s mask – this is the only protection from it all. She sang:
“The horrid baron Samedi has raised a dead creature Elena, her emptiness is her
only possession, her despair is her strength, she’s nothing to fear since the
worst thing is in the past – she had been born without asking her consent.”
She woke up on the floor.
“I’ve fallen from the bed and didn’t even notice it. The illness is
progressing.”
She shuffled to the bathroom, undressed and stood under the stream of warm
water. She began remembering what had happened the day before: morning – work –
home – lonely dinner – heartache – idea – knife – slashed wrist – hope – fear –
tourniquet – vodka+antidepressant = sleep.
“What do I want?” Lena asked.
“I want to drink,” said She.
“Drink what?” Lena asked.
“That’s one silly question,” said She.
“Vodka?”
“Too early for that, let’s start with wine!”
“Just wine, or maybe something else?”
“Stop it, it’s time to go!” said She.
Lena got dressed and went downstairs. She bought a bottle of red wine, and on
her way home stopped by a toys store window. She saw a large puzzle box and
decided to buy it and spend the day playing with it. Returning home, she opened
the wine and made a large gulp...
Another knock on the door. It was Sanya, and opening the door she already knew
what he would say to her... Drugs, a lot of drugs and a little bit of
conversation. He was like that.
“I’ve made friends with a couple of nice guys, they’re photographers, wanna come
with us?”
“Of course, let’s just rink some wine before we go!” Sanya went into the room.
“Hey, nice puzzle!”
They drank some wine.
“Want some fen?” he asked.
They sniffed some fen. Then they went to a bar and ordered two bottles of wine.
Lena drank a little aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand... Sanya’s friends came, a nice
couple, both very excited, they drank beer, Sanya went to the toilet and
returned ten minutes later, his eyes absolutely like glass. They danced, then
they went to her place, drank some more, sniffed some cocaine, and then...
...She woke up at 3 a.m. It was dark and quiet. Water is running somewhere,
probably at the kitchen... she came in... the lamp was lit... table... and on
it, her puzzle... complete... one step, another... she looked at it... it was a
terrible gargoyle, with large fangs, worms in the rotten mouth and two EMPTY
eyes... it was a blow... it almost killed her... it tore every little nerve
inside her...
Lena stood by the open window.
“Sanya, did you read Nietsche?”
“Nope.”
“He used to say... push the falling one...”
She heard heavy steps behind her back. Lena was sure that if she turned around
she wouldn’t see Sanya. It was something else. So much hatred in this
creature...
And then... a light touch and a flight into the abyss. There were no thoughts in
her mind.
She was flying across a large empty space... To the horizon... For an
eternity... And the wind was running by her side...
The End.
Copyright by Edwin (2002).