I know that perhaps publishing creativity here is not the best idea, but I would like to hear your criticism. The story is not small, so you should prepare to read it. It is saturated with gloom and gloom, so you can’t expect any uplifting mood from it. Well, trying is not torture.
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Cold gray walls are the only landscapes I have been able to admire in recent months. They are only diluted by a lonely push in the corner of the room. It’s almost a year since I ended up in this clinic for mentally ill people with a diagnosis of mental disorder due to nervousness and a number of other illnesses. Unlike other patients whom I have observed for a long time, I am not stuffed with dozens of different medications. An ordinary notebook, the purpose of which is to be a collection of my thoughts and stories, was considered the only healing drug for someone like me. Ninety-six sheets are filled with stories, periods, alternating with excerpts from my personal biography. Oddly enough, the doctors found the latter more interesting than what was spewed out by my twisted mind.
Writing these works, in the dim light of a single lamp, was my only entertainment throughout the day. I put my soul into them. They were carefully read, re-read and analyzed by my doctors and psychologists. They often asked various questions about the text, like little curious and stupid kids. More than once I had a lot of fun during interviews during a meeting with a doctor, which alarmed them somewhat, because the texts were somewhat pessimistic in content. The events in them unfolded in the darkest and most unpredictable places in London and other big cities of northern Europe, the heroes were a little unbalanced, committed crazy things in the name of insignificant goals, which often ended tragically. Although, even among all this, rays of goodness and hope sometimes appeared. In stories that were stingy with feelings, I wove unusual and lively lines of love between the characters. Eh. This is roughly how I combined two opposites, such as tragedy and the warmth of human feelings. Okay, I hate the lyrics, so I’ll skip the rest of the details.
While there is time left, I will tell you a small part of a huge story – an excerpt from my own biography – the moment when I first fell in love. Although I have always shown an aversion to any form of lyricism, this story has everything that can outshine this nasty love ball.
School years, a time when https://casino-luxury.co.uk/ society has a huge influence on you, and not the stupid remarks and bickering of parents, which I often simply turned a deaf ear to. The first cigarette in the teeth, the first sips of drinks, with a considerable percentage of degrees. Yes, I was not a golden child at all, which I do not intend to hide, but everyone does stupid things. Then I set out on a bad path that did not bode well for a bright and happy outcome for my future. I got involved with bad company. Now, the school year of the ninth grade has long-awaitedly come to an end, and having decided to celebrate, one of my imaginary friends got some “drugs” by shooting a syringe around our “fun” company. When my turn came, after a long time, my brain finally realized what was happening. I understood what the subsequent actions threatened me with, and then for once I said “no”. Throwing the syringe on the floor, I flew out of the apartment like a bullet. Fearing that I might reveal the secret of what was happening in the apartment where we had often gathered before, one of my acquaintances ran out after me. Threatening me with beating, he ordered me to come back and take the dose. I closed my eyes and a tear ran down my cheek. Having no more ideas on what to do, not finding any other way out, I grabbed a piece of brick lying at my feet and hit it with all my strength in the face of my opponent, fatally hitting his temple, and, obviously, opening his skull. His face was flushed with blood, his eyes froze, his pupils twitched convulsively. The two-meter body collapsed onto the dusty ground, showing no more signs of life. At the sound of the blow, the rest of my friends appeared, frightened by the sight of what was happening. Confused, letting go of the stone from my hands, I rushed away from this place, simultaneously wiping my tears. I wanted to run away as far as possible to forget everything..
The sky was overcast with dark thunderclouds, which in the evening showered the ground with cold autumn rain. That day I killed a man, although no one else knew about it. Him, and earlier my friends were unable to squeeze out a word, being in a state of shock. The police quickly closed the case and ended the investigation, because there were no facts, no evidence, no information.
Having reached a remote construction site, behind an old but functional clinic, and still open, I went down to its lower tiers. The construction consisted of some kind of two-story extension to the clinic, but construction was stopped for unknown reasons. They only completed the construction of the basement; they never started working on the first floor, so in some places there was no floor, which is why the entire lower tier of the building was visible. Now it’s just a garbage dump. Hiding from human gaze in one of the gray rooms, I pressed myself against the wall, clasping my knees with trembling hands. Looking with frightened eyes at the opposite side of the room, I suddenly heard footsteps, neat and light. They were getting closer. Suddenly a girl’s face appeared from around the corner. I knew her. Annie, she is new to our school, who seemed a little strange to many due to her way of dressing and expressing her feelings. Suddenly she noticed me, staggering a little, but not afraid. Our views crossed. This pause lasted for several seconds. She spoke first, wondering what I was doing here, and later remembering me, because I mocked her so stupidly, which I did not of my own free will, but at the “request” of my friend.
After apologizing, I had to tell her everything. She wasn’t surprised. Rather, I was more surprised because for some reason she was proud of me. And so we soon started talking. She was quite unusual, dreamy, sweet and good-natured to me. Even my parents weren’t so kind when I was a kid. We agreed to see her here every day, but for now, we waited together under an unfinished roof for the rain to end. Romance… ugh, disgusting. Although, then my opinion was different.
The next day we met again at the same place. I talked to her for a long time. We sat on the cold concrete all day, telling each other something interesting from our lives. I had almost forgotten about my terrible act, but something else dawned on me. After weeks of such meetings, I realized how close Annie was to me. I fell in love. For the first time I truly fell in love..
[To be continued, maybe . ]
Well, I’ll be glad to receive criticism. Even strict. Thank you for your attention!
Please, if you put a "-", explain why, so that I can learn from my mistakes. If you are just too lazy to read, pass by.
