Just Him&I: In Universe of Cruelty

Part 30

— What's wrong with you?! — I got into the car and closed the door, opening the window. I was afraid I might lose consciousness in front of her.

— I... I'll tell you when we get home. Please... — I felt a new emotion filling me after the uncontrollable wave of despair, and it seemed to boil over and show through the edges of the vessel. It was anger, the kind I felt toward everything that somehow existed, that was present, made sense, anything that walked, breathed, or even flew. Everything was disgusting to me now. Everything I touched, heard, or felt.

Natasha didn't dare ask me what happened. I didn't even know what had happened myself. It seemed I had fallen for the guy my father had tortured, then slept with him, and after a while, I found out he killed my mom and told him I never wanted to see him again. Though I kept thinking and saying it wasn't him who did it.

There were no tears at all; they just dried up on my face, as if with the snap of my fingers. It was as though, with the snap of my fingers, the world around me stopped, and nothing made sense anymore. Everything stopped. It seemed like only the clock in his apartment, that unpleasant ticking, was still going. I heard it in my head amidst the noise. Or maybe it was just the beating of my heart, and I was already losing my mind.

I finally closed the window, feeling the cold for the first time since his torment, but now it was over me. I pressed my head against the car window, breathing heavily and unnaturally, sucking in all the air through my mouth.

Natasha glanced at me suspiciously from time to time, maybe worried. Or maybe she didn't want to deal with a corpse and tell the cops my heart suddenly stopped.

She parked the car near her house and got out, opening the door for me. I stepped onto the snow, and the pleasant crunch pulled me out of my thoughts. Natasha took me by the arm and led me inside. It was very warm in there, too warm. I felt hot, so I took off my leather jacket and threw it on the couch where I should have sat.

— Well, tell me what happened? — she sighed heavily and sat next to me on the couch, handing me a cup of tea. I was surprised by how quickly she had gotten everything ready. We just arrived.

— Let's have something stronger. — I said, licking my lips. She nodded, understanding, and went to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Scotch.

— The atmosphere is heating up. — she commented and handed me a glass. I took a small sip. The warmth pleasantly burned my throat.

— Am I just unlucky, or are the screenwriters in life hopeless? — I started, sighing. I twirled the glass in my hands, thinking about how to express myself properly.

— He killed my mom... — I decided not to drag it out and just say it as it was.
Her eyes almost popped out of her head at my words. I leaned my arm against my chin and took another sip.

— I found out today. You won't believe it, but it was Brock who sent me a video — I smiled nervously, waiting for her reaction. And the shock and surprise on her face were unlike anything I had ever seen.

— What's going on with you guys? — She ran her amber eyes over my face, as if searching for answers, perhaps to all the world's mysteries. From whether there's a God to how the Egyptian pyramids were built. But now it seemed to me that the question "What's going on with you guys?" was far more important, and the previously mentioned questions seemed irrelevant.

— How would I know? I went to the cemetery and they sent me the video. I said I didn't want to see him anymore and left. — I leaned back on the couch, looking up. It seemed like the alcohol had loosened me up a little, and I was in a more relaxed state. I felt a pleasant lightness. But the bitter aftertaste remained at the bottom.

— Tell me you would have done the same. Please! That I didn't make a mistake. — There was so much hope in me that I wouldn't regret it, that I had done the right thing. That anyone in my position would have done the same. That I wasn't a selfish fool only thinking about myself and my feelings.

This long, seemingly eternal silence only meant one thing: I was wrong.

— Damn...! — I whispered, covering my face with my hands. A new wave of anger filled my body, but now it was directed at myself.

— You just made a quick decision. You need to think with a clear head. In this situation, your emotions got the best of you. I don't know if I would have done the same if I were in your place. But what most people choose isn't always the right choice. Do you understand what I mean?

I just nodded approvingly, tipping the entire contents of my glass into my body.

— I understand, so I need to go to him and fix everything immediately, otherwise, it'll be too late to change anything. Can you give me the car keys? — I stood up from the couch, ready to leave, but she quickly stopped me, holding me by the shoulders.

— Let's do it tomorrow. You're not thinking clearly right now. That's the first thing. And second, you've drunk too much; you can't drive. Come on, let's get you to bed, it's already late. — She pulled me by the hands, like a little child who was about to be put to bed. She would tell me a story about a princess and a prince with a happy ending, as always. I sighed discontentedly, but deep down, I understood she was right.

A memory of hers appeared before my eyes.

***

— Hey Natasha, you run so fast, wait! — A little girl in a calico dress and tiny shoes shouted.

— Catch me! — Natasha had short blue hair, which looked very unusual on her. She was taller than the little girl, and the age difference was very noticeable.
She ran up to the girl and hugged her tightly, laughing loudly, shaking her little hands.

— Promise me you'll never leave me! — She extended her pinky and smiled.

— I promise, Elena. — Natasha extended her finger in return, and they shook it firmly.

***

I didn't show that I had seen anything; it seemed normal to me. It came when it wanted and left the same way.

I needed to sleep; I was so exhausted. I didn't even notice it was already dark outside. Time seemed to have flown by so quickly. It was almost impossible to see outside, not because the sun was gone, but because most people had turned off the lights and were already sleeping in their warm beds. I saw through the window of the house across from us, the colored lights of a garland glowing, and it gave me a sense of comfort and calm.

— Well, good night! — She let go of my hand, leaving me alone in the room. It was clear this was a guest room, and no one had ever lived here. There was just a bed, a small rug, and a little table with a bottle of mineral water on it.

— Thanks! Good night. — The door quietly closed, and I approached the light switch. It went off immediately. I examined the silhouettes and shadows in the room, looking for any sign of someone who might be moving around. But I'd rather it be a stranger than the horror that had been tormenting me for years.

I approached the bed; the floor creaked quietly. And then I heard nothing. Maybe it was just me, but I could hear Natasha's soft breathing, she must have already been falling asleep. And I would toss and turn all night, until I finally fell asleep by morning. For the first time in my life, I felt so lonely while sleeping. I kept replaying Natasha's memories in my mind.