Time bomb.


the noise Awakened the night, Sophia got out of bed and sliding her bare foot on the floor, felt one slipper.
Gotcha! - asked the girl felt to the boat.
where's the other boat? - announced she splayed toes of the other foot, still to no avail studying the floor in search of the second sneaker.
in her sleep Disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty face and prevented her to open and so still not quite awake eyes.
Phew! – pushing back hair, the girl sighed and looked at the floor.
Ah, this is where you swam? - finding Slippers in the lunar path on the night surface of the linoleum, glad the little lady of the two ships felt. the
Noise in the next room, then died down, then intensified, as if underwater sirens luring on yourself Sonia.
the path to the source of the noise was blocked by a tiny square hallway, stored in each of its wall by the door. Door was exactly what it was years and most of the night fairy, who in the excitement of its darkness. Two doors – entrance and toilet were tightly closed. Door remaining half open, led into the nursery, from where Sonia came out in their boats and into the living room, where a bright chandelier blinded. The hallway suddenly recalled Sonia cinema hall, where dad often took her to children's matinees, offsetting their trips to the clinic for unpleasant medical procedures. And the doorway turned into a screen that was a movie, with the parents of the baby in lead roles.
Father something incoherently muttered, lounging on the couch after another drinking bout, and my mother stood over him, and, raising it with a wet towel, shouted ominous: "I wish you were dead!"
And who is going to drive me to the movies, if you do not become the Pope? – protested a little witness of the plot which unfolds in the screen door the night of the cinema. Fear from the sight of an angry, screaming mother gave the girl to enter the room to rush to the defense of dear old dad, leaving her in the twilight hallway. As she stood in the shadows? A rhetorical question...
But the rest of her life was periodically disturbed by the same, made in a child's head that night the phrase: "When mom dies, I will take better care of dad", wrap it up in guilt and shame. This fatal phrase turned into a bomb, periodically reminding about its existence, but, treacherously, in no way hinting at a possible explosion.
Years passed. Dad was still drunk. Mom was still yelling at dad. And in the movie would not go on play dates and not dad...
it's been 40 years...
Age four had to be cloned in forty-four, but Sophia was still an unwitting viewer of the same film. Now she stood on the veranda of a southern country house. On the screen of another doorway into the next room the same main characters, same lines. The difference in one – Mama can't stand on your own feet, there's only 25kg of weight, the sinister blood cancer devours the last days of her life. A depleted pen, clenching his naughty fingers in a fist, she bangs lying next to a drunken man, shouting the same thing: "fuck you."
Mine explodes!!!
Fragments of the mine shell with guilt and shame hurt the soul of the viewer four year old black and white movie that is infinitely scrollable in the cinema, which never turned on the light and where it is difficult to find their own way. For a long time then it will be Sofia to explain to your inner child - that four year old little girl that her "when she dies" it was not the wishes of the mother's death, and there was a strong desire loving daughter "it is better to take care of dad." And that she did not blame the mother's illness and that the drunk father beats exhausted the hand of his dying wife is akin to a gentle caress.
my Mother is no more, and dad continues to live in its wine and spirits operation.
" Who is she for so many years screaming: "fuck you"? - ask baby Sophia from the depths of the deep.
" Perhaps someone who was hiding in her own dark theater, - she said trust her and the girl will offer to bring her to another kind and cheerful party.
And only a sense of shame for faded over the years, the desire to "better take care of dad" splintery shrapnel mines will slyly podkalne inside: "As promised..."

Статья выложена в ознакомительных целях. Все права на текст принадлежат ресурсу и/или автору (B17 B17)

Что интересного на портале?