Falling

“We missed each other. Our paths haven't crossed. You died seventeen years before I was born. You never thought I would ever exist — that's why. How could you ever imagine that someone in this world could love you as much as I do? That's why one dark, stupid hour you put a shotgun to your head and pulled the trigger.

And then I lost you before I could find you, dig? It hurts like hell, I hate myself for this fatal delay, and the only thing I'm dying for now is to die! Sounds funny, see? It's all I can think about, day and night, sitting alone in my stupid room, walking down the street, smoking in the schoolyard or watching TV. But when I listen to your sweet and sparkling voice, when I sink into your otherworldly music, when I look at your angel-like face — I'm dying to die like you even more! You are my heart, my breath, my god and my devil, my impossible dream and my unbearable sorrow. And only death can bind us together”.

She hastily shut down her laptop, hearing her mother's footsteps in the hall, and rubbed her face with running mascara. It was a good letter, a pity he will never read it. What would he say if he could?

The sleepless night left behind, another lonely night of tears and fears, it crawled away like an old beaten dog, its tail between its legs. The ruddy morning light climbed into the dusty room and was slowly dancing on the floor next to the window. It looked like a ghost of unreachable happiness. And it was... calling her. Calling with a strong, clear voice.

“I always knew that you exist, sweetie. But you existed so far in time and space, and it was hurting like hell! Cos no one in the whole world could love me like you do. And I always loved you alone, loved you like nobody else! Now I hate myself for that hasty decision, dig? I should stay, I should wait, I should call you as hard as I only could!”

The thin, blushful ray of the rising sun mistook itself for a pencil and painted a smile on her face. Obeying its call, she stepped forward and fell into the deep blue sky. The falling was lasting, lasting, lasting…

“Marcia, darling, aren’t you going to school, hun?”

Her flight ended.

“Go away, mom! I’m sick!”

The door-handle began to twitch worriedly.

“What happened, baby? Please, let me in!”

As if she cared so much. Fat chance! Nobody really cares. Nobody loves her like he could.

“Go away!!!”

She threw herself on the bed, desperately crying. No one understands. It's pointless to explain, they all don’t even try. She missed him! She was born too late. It’s not her fault, rather her mother’s one. Or maybe it’s some stupid God in heaven – that whom she has to blame! The only man in the whole world who loved her as she always dreamed, he died seventeen years before she took her first breath, because nobody cared! Oh, how she hates them all for their indifference!

The scampish noon crept up on his tiptoes, shook his dice and started over the old weird game of living right behind her shoulder. Bets were high, high as a sky – open your purse and spend your money liberally! His moves and waves were fascinating, and with each single gesture he looked more and more familiar – she knew him! She could recognise this manner of curling his lips into that bleak smile, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, that irresistible attraction.

“You’re right, I’ve really never thought that you’d ever exist, my cuppy cake. But that’s not a reason. The reason is that I always hated myself, so I hoped that death would heal me of my hatred. Everyone around me thought I was cool, but I was weak. I was just pretending, dig? You would never love me the way you do if you knew me, if you really knew me. The real me.”

But I do! I don’t care, I love you anyway!

“Would you love me if I were the guy next door? Who’s he, kinda motel clerk? A sysop? Babysitter? Would you still love me if I weren’t a rock star? Would you do if I were a street sweeper?”

I would!!! I swear I would!!!

She splattered with scream, falling into pieces. She couldn’t stop screaming – and falling, falling, falling.

“Martushka, are you alright, kid?”

Granny. What the hell is she doing here? Why isn’t she outside on a bench with her stupid gossipy neighbours?

“I’m not! Leave me alone!”

The door-chain shivered threateningly.

“Holy Moses! Open the door, chick! Your ma said you’re ill, have you got the flu?”

Flu. Stupid flu. My illness is incurable. They will never understand. None of them.

Only death can cure me.

You said you’re weak. I’m weak too. You said you hated yourself – I feel the same.

But…

I must pretend, like you did. I will, oh, I will!

“She’s mistaken, I’m okay, gran. Don’t bother about me, okay? I’m fine.”

She switched on her computer, turned the music up to eleven, dived into her lace panties and drowned in her wet and sweet dreams, falling from grace, buffing her muffin.

The ruthless bloodhound of dusk has followed a warm scent of her lust and licked the last drops of pleasure. His hard-eyed master, the stone-cold evening brought his whip and chain, the crashed ice of kisses and the white-hot iron of pettings. He brought the pain of madness and the madness of pain. His skin was black, his leather boots were spiked with poison thorns. He played no games, he squeezed her dry, ripped and flogged, and didn’t give a damn. But in silent horror she began to realize that he had the shape of the same beloved phantom.

“I always knew that the thousands like you exist. Millions. And I never cared. You think you’re special, the only one in the world? Fat chance! You're not worth anything more than being fucked once or twice. Look at yourself! Who am I, and who are you? Just a stupid ugly teenage groupie, who masturbates to a picture of Immo R. T. Alman, the God of Metal, even though that’s not my real name. You are not pretty enough, not kind enough, not passionate enough and not patient enough to be my lover! I would say you just need a good whipping, honey bunny.”

That’s not true! It’s not you! How can you be so cruel?

“Sure, it’s not me. D’you really think you can speak with my… spirit? Or what? It’s only your imagination, you’re hallucinating, you are insane, brainsick, birdy, loony tune, nuttier than squirrel shit, dig?”

Noooooooooo!!!

The sky was falling. And death was calling her with a clear, strong voice. She made three stumbling steps toward the wide open window, black-on-black outside, she took her vows, folded her wings and slipped into Nothingness.

The falling was quick like a shot.

The horrid heavy-handed clavierist of night, dressed in rags, bashed out the ponderous requiem.

“We missed each other. You died on the same day when I was born anew. You loved me, you called me, you tried to reach me with so crazy might, that I just couldn’t help to return. But I missed you, it was too late, now it’s clear as a bell. I searched for you for sixteen years, almost from the very day of my birth – only to find your grave with some unreadable words in a foreign language written on your tombstone. I understand none, but I know it’s you. How foolish! You have missed me for the second time. Only death can bind us together, you said? But it’s a lie, a wicked lie, dig? Death cannot make one whole again, child, it can only tear one apart.”

“Evie, pumpkin, are you coming?”

The shroud of new-fallen snow in the old municipal cemetery was stained with the grey blood of footprints. The grumpy, heavyset lady was stamping her feet, trying to warm herself, calling her young black as night offspring with a strong clear voice. And the snowflakes, huge like tiny birds frozen to death, were endlessly falling.

“I thought you were looking for that old-times musician’s grave. What was his name? Or her? Those Slavic names are so weird!”

“I found it, mom. And I’m coming.”

She plunged her naked fingertips into the silvery whiteness for the last touch.

Would you love me, dear Marcia, if you knew who I am?