- Escort the sinner! - the voice of his highness rang out.
And then they - several brawny men in white cassocks - pushed him outside. I didn’t recognize him - I would most certainly never recognize him should we meet in different circumstances - he looked like the former Chris I knew since childhood no more. He awfully grown old and hardly dragged his feet, so four assistants had to constantly jog and push him - there was a blood visible on his face. “Tortures?”, - a thought flashed in my mind.
- Teacher, Chris! - I cried out loudly, trying to overcome the noise of the strengthening wind.
He turned back. A weak smile appeared on his dried up lips.
- Peter, my sonny, is that you? They caught you too, yes? Forgive me, sonny … please forgive me … I should foresee that that will once happen.
- Teacher, but why?! Why everything has come to this at last? Did they … have they been lying to us all that time?!
It was still visible that Chris smiled once more with his not obeying lips.
- And here and now, my sonny, you have awakened at last, - he muttered, - and during that same instant a roar of the gushed wind silenced all other sounds.
I saw, how four men dragged my mentor somewhere in the direction of a building’s corner - I tried to rush for aid, only to have been instantly seized by same three men, dressed in white cassocks.
- Stop twitching, oh brother, - smiled one of them.
When several seconds after his holiness appeared before my eyes once again - I was surprised no longer.
- And as for you, my son … we must perform the procedure of … cleaning, so that your brain can become sacred and holy once more and not a single demon even had the chance to crept into it! - and he smiled. - Seize him! In the name of the Patriarch!
My entire world ruined in a single flash of time. Everything I trusted, all that I hoped for - everything became nothing. All was in vain. And when my … brothers … seized me - I resisted no more. That was no longer necessary.
“May the Divine will guide me forevermore”, - a thought came an instant before a weighty wooden club of one of white brothers landed on my head …
In the prison for a quarter of century
He opened his eyes. Both sight and hearing were coming back to normal, very-very slowly - but were returning. For many days he has still been recovering …
A push of hand - a sharp pain in the broken knuckle - and he has risen. He is alive and he will sustain - despite of everything.
Despite dregs in eyes and broken knuckle, acknowledging itself with a pain during each movement of hand. Despite hateful shouts and most severe abuse, flowing around. Despite the threats from his “neighbors”, which they intended to put in action if he doesn’t share his part of that skilly that was brought to them - so that they haven’t starved to death. Despite the methodical and giving a ring on an iron floor footsteps of the approaching guard. Despite the sun which he haven’t seen for such a long time … only the weak light beam of which he had a chance to notice in the mornings - a light, hardly passing through strong iron plates, sealing windows in this stronghold of grief. In this stronghold of sorrow … and sometimes, only sometimes - repentances.
“Chumbrik, fuck you! We’ll cut you on giblets! Do you hear me, bastard?! You’ll lick our heels, bough!” A shout came somewhere from a distant chamber and sank in the silence.
Resisting ones weren’t welcomed there, as well as loving ones. That’s why similar people were almost absent in these cells. Except for local authorities - and those who could prove with own blood that they are worthy of respect. For only the force did worth something here.
A whole year was required for him to prove own strength. To prove in fights without rules, ones, “accidentally” overlooked by that supervisor that was slowly coming through a corridor, rattling with chamber keys. Or, to be more precise, these battles were completely ignored by prison guard. One week ago there was his last fight - and after that he was finally left alone. He has proven own force for this year time and again - proven much more during this time span. And finally were receded - they have withdrawn from him like from an insuperable and indestructible stronghold.
“Dinner!” - a loud peal of a voice filled a premise.
Now they will be fetched skilly bowls - gray-greenish liquid with disgusting taste. However, a piece of bread was applied to this liquid, and that was already fine.
This should suffice for approximately five-six hours. And then once again something similar will be brought to them - to that they don’t die from hunger. And so it goes on for a day, a month, a year … Nineteen years - nineteen long years he should remain here. Nineteen twentieth of his term.
Here comes the inspector. Now a food would be brought - he will sate himself with this pity piece of bread and a bowl of liquid stinking of slops and feel easier.
His organism will take many days to heal its wounds … It will take nineteen years for him until a day of freedom finally comes.
Here comes a meal. A bowl was pushed to him through a cut out crack in the bottom of a chamber’s door.
For some reason the inspector continued standing, thought it was already the time for him to go to new chambers. One second, two, three … five …
“Prisoner Skalov, your wife has come to visit you. We will guide you to a meeting room”.
Simple human words, which have lifted his spirit on pleasure tops. It was such an immense joy for him now - to once again meet a close person in this house of loneliness, loneliness among hundreds and hundreds of people … His prison cell was slowly opened - the guard immediately pressed him against the wall and started quickly putting on handcuffs. He didn’t resist.
“Do your job, guys. It’s your work. Play your part”, - thoughts have flown in his head, remaining unexpressed. And what for? - prisoners aren’t talked to - they are given orders and are compelled to their execution. Almost like in the army, yet worse - for disobedience - a bitting to semideath follows. Or to the death - that’s unimportant. A phrase in official report will state - “has committed suicide” - in a chamber without even a single sharp object. It was possible to commit suicide there only having broken one’s head against the wall …
He was moving through a corridor, led by prison guards, and his soul was singing in joy. A joy for the first time for many-many days. For how truly long he hasn’t felt that sensation …
- Luydochka, my beloved! Dear one, how did I miss you!
- Pasha, dear! Thanks God, you are still alive! What’s wrong with you? Have you battled again? Oh, fighter, when you will stop these fights at last?! They are going to kill you one day!
- I cannot do that, Luyda, I cannot. I had no right to refuse a fight. You know … I wouldn’t survive that way …
- Pasha, dear, I beg of you - remain alive. Dear, beloved … if they kill you, Pasha, I wouldn’t survive that. Dear, nice, don’t leave me alone, keep yourself live - I beg you! I beg! I love you, Pasha!”
She nestled face to a plastic bulletproof fence that divided them, and started crying. His beloved woman. His significant other …
She was crying and her tears slowly did flow by a glass wall, leaving a pure transparent trace. He nestled his own face to a transparent wall too and was looking at her. A security guard, observing their meeting, has moved forward at first - according to the rules talking ones should keep the distance of at least two meters from a dividing wall - but then suddenly gaging somehow and slowly inclined a head downwards. Some people remained men even here.
And then they kissed transparent plastic, imaging as if they were kissing each other. Scattered hands and touched a transparent window, trying to embrace each other. They were kissing and embracing each other - and
