Your Merry Girl 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 7 (v.1) - EVERYBODY IS FOOL

Submitted: February 12, 2019

Reads: 14

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Submitted: February 12, 2019





Yulia saw some bad dream. Moving along the dark corridor, which was highlighted by some kind of green halogen lamps under her feet, she noticed the plate “World Order Security” before the next door. This inscription somehow vividly shone against the background of the dark rooms, and she felt that her eyes were oozing from it. Suddenly, raising her hands to her face, she noticed words written with blood by hand on each of the four fingers:

Where does my mind come from?

The letters quickly became baked—they began to darken, and then disappeared altogether, as if the wound had healed too quickly.

She went into the room. The room was as dark as a strange building, she did not remember how she came in. There were two armchairs and some monitors with a remote control that illuminated the console a bit; the size of room was that of a typical living room. That is, it all reminded her of a common television centre or, as it was supposed to be, monitors for video surveillance. She sits down at one of the armchairs and realizes that this really is video surveillance.

A question: what time is it? Taking out the mobile phone from the bag, she saw first 04:23 PM, then immediately 05:38 AM. There is a different time on the monitors. She looked at the far left one. Night, a black and white view, two foreign cars, drunken people. Standing out most of all is a fat man of fifty, who for an unknown reason (no sound) beats two young guys by his feet to death, and then he leaves. They do not move, apparently unconscious.

The other camera was also black and white, attached to the pole of railway branch, as it supposed to be. At first glance, nothing happened there; there were not even trains. It’s not night, but because of the black and white signal it’s difficult to determine even the approximate time of the event. But Yulia had tears, pains in her chest, and a voice whispered “I’m here, here.” She turned around, but saw no one in the darkness and continued to look at the monitor. It was evident that the train was approaching in the camera. But suddenly there was a huge explosion, which seemed atomic. It instantly broke the camera, putting in out of action it became quite obvious that nobody survived there.

The other camera was coloured, but without sound. It was a loo. Some mental incompetence visitor, unable to cope with the lock of the room, began to crumble his head on the serious scraps with the sharp end of the door handle. It was quite noticeable that this visitor had big defects in his head. But there was not too much blood, and it appears that he is still alive. Suddenly, an unknown voice, but no longer that whispered before, said, “I made him do it, and he agree with me.” Yulia did not recognize the voice, it was not associated with friends, who and where from—the voice-holder did not jump out yet.

Yulia moved to another camera. It was attached near the barrier before railways. The road has two lanes—a main road is rarely built in such places. The barrier closed, but only at one side. On the other, unclosed side, a large bus capacity drove through. His driver did not pay attention to this situation. It was clear that this situation is in Russia—this can only be with us. He almost move out of the tracks, but behind him the train, passing by inertia, hit hard through it. The bus broke into several parts and flew off the road, one of the bus part carried forward by train. The train itself barely damaged, except for small cosmetic changes.

She moved from camera to camera. It was the morning in the other camera and it worked even with a sound, though quiet one. This sound, periodic voices and completely unnoticed buzz of halogen lamps created a noise background of this dream. In this camera, it was even rotated, the freight train was visible, but suddenly there was the break of a car’s connector in the centre. At first, it seems that it loses balance and only this car falls, and the rest are simply fixed and will stay sitting together on rails. But somewhere in five minutes, all the cars are overturned.

Actually, in this dream, Yulia watched different cameras, going from ones to others. Sometimes the picture changed in them, but the room did not increase in the size. There were railroad accidents, in particular a technical employee that falling down under the rails when the car moved. He tried to get on to the car for the purposes of his inspection, but when he reached the rail, again there is a third voice that said, “There is a violation! The specialist is—must be climbing the car—only after it has completely stopped.” But the trick did not work—he slipped and fell. The wheels of the last car twice cut his head, and in such situations, the brain decides to stop the work of all vital organs. People have many modes of operation, including emergency ones, which they do not even know about. Yulia said suddenly: “You should have told him there.”

She saw more than a dozen accidents and potentially dangerous situations on the road in the monitors. Yulia, as if recalling the words of a unknown origin’s voice about the violation of the employee on the railway, concluded that most accidents occur due to the human factor, and too often with greater violations. The ratio among drivers and pedestrians is the same. In one accident, the pedestrian comes out in an unauthorized place, where there is no traffic light and traffic control. As a result: a person flew a few metres and it is unlikely that he is still alive. In the other accident, the pedestrian steps out in front of a sitting van. This is a potentially dangerous situation, because the van blocks a view of the moving cars. It is better to come through the rear of vehicle even in the designated place, and this also led to an accident.

There were numerous accidents that arose because of the human factor of the drivers themselves, as you can even say, fuck up. She saw many drifts of cars in the winter. If you did not fucking put winter tires—fucking jump in a tree or roll off a hill, or if you are not a moron, do not drive today at all. Drifts were many, and this is the human one, not a technical factor. Several accidents were associated with truckers and the same barriers. In one accident, the barrier was not closed on time, and the trucker decided that he could go and he was supposed to be free. Having reached the railways along which the train was driving through, the barrier will close only now, but on the other hand, it was closed in an untenable and dangerous place, and created a situation that ruined someone’s life. But is it the driver’s fault that the barrier was not closed in time? In another accident, the trucker was not accurate with a distance and he was at several dozen centimetres closer to the train, just where there was no barrier. Centimetres led to the truck becoming broken into debris.

Railways again. It seems to be that the camera is held by someone among the eyewitnesses. Remains of the crashed train, scattered cars, a spilled petrol. The voice that spoke about the violation on the previous railway, said, “This train flew into a nearby train at a speed of 90 km/h, which is excessively fast for a freight train. During the movement on the previous site, it damaged the brake pads, which made it an obstacle on rails. At the next stop, the locomotive was repaired, but the assembly of the part was made in violation of technical requirements, which led to the complete brake failure and the abnormal increase of speed.”

There were aeroplanes disasters in the monitors, including a crash at the Ramstein airbase in Germany, where the airplane, that performed at the air show, lost control and fell into the spectators. Since then, the European Union prohibits the conduct of air parades at low altitude and close to the spectators. None of these accidents were commented on by any voice, except for one. But it’s not an accident, it’s just a malfunction. Somewhere in North America a landed plane began to spark in the chassis area. Yulia asked the question:

“Why does not anyone hurry up to go out of it, do they not know?”

After that, there were a lot of car accidents. Some of them are committed because of inadequate or hasty drivers who did not brake even on pedestrian crossings. Some grandmother was angry at the potentially possible conductor of accident, so that she kicked the bumper of the road hog who has just stopped. If he would have driven a little faster—he would have moved through her. Another fucking moron drove into the fucking fence of bridge, apparently he twisted his steering wheel strongly, we must also add that he was driving in the summertime. The hurrying driver of bus turned for some reason when a foreign car was driving five metres away from him. “Blame yourself only,” Yulia thinks. “In that accident, the barrier was not closed, but this one could see where is it turns.”

Then there were explosions of gas pipelines on Sayano-Shushenskaya hydroelectric station together with some other regions. The flame approaches two hundred metres (1.242 miles) and the flashing takes up half part of sky, à la some film about the doomsday—a common thing. Her face even turned into orange glares due to the monitors at some point in time. There were black pieces in the blue sky, judged by one of the monitors. The voice commented: “Video from a distance around hundreds of kilometres (0.621 miles), and there are dust flies in the cameraman, even here. The explosion occurred in Israel at one of the oil-producing stations around 2003. You can see fragments of oil here. If you make steps even in by fifty metres (0.0310 miles), you will die immediately.”

The voice of Pavel came again: “That’s why the picture dies out every day. People have already seen everything, it is impossible to photograph so that they will look at it for several hours. Now, the most spectacular images are not even eroticism, but explosions as a result of man-made accidents, extraordinary incidents, terrorist acts and wars. And this is understandable—people are rarely faced with a crime or emergency situation in life; their boring and cheesed-off reality in the form of annoying walls and skyscrapers, and landscapes are already boring.”

Then a bloody bone appeared in the next camera, and behind it there was a dismembered tendon of what was left of the hand, plus a large amount of blood that still flowed from this hand. “I made him do it,” the same voice was heard, and it seemed to Yulia that the commentator of this phrase and of the situation with the dismembered of head in that toilet—is the same person.

“Who are you? I don’t know. Come out,” she said.

All the monitors in the room ceased to show emergencies and work-related injuries, instead, the same person’s silhouette appeared in full shadow on the principle of television detective show when someone ask not to have their face shown.

“This person, whose pieces were shown,” a voice came from the monitors, “suffered from a senile incompetence of his mind, constantly spoiled his relatives’ nerves, he has a delusional disorder with ideas about Stalin, and he run away from home at intervals. It was I who forced him to shove his hand into the chopper, because he lost the coin that he earned by handing over the bottles. Eighty years—it’s time to go to the grave.”

“I don’t know who are you,” Yulia said.

“I’m your beloved Baron Alex.”

“Full name, please.”

“My name is Alexander Nikonov.”

“Ah, that’s it,” suddenly it seemed to her that the monitors had disappeared and they were standing on a cliff behind themselves, against the background of the explosion at Sayano-Shushenskaya hydroelectric station.

“Are you not afraid of hell?” she asked. “You broke one mortal sin, at least. You act like an inquisitor without the approval of the church.”

“Listen to me, why must I be afraid of hell? I’m not afraid of anything, but I even strive to be there. There are all the good dicks. John Rockefeller is in, Charles Manson is in, Jim Morrison is in, Henry Ford, finally. Not less life than beauty,” he said, as if drinking a glass.

“Alexander, you don’t understand, there is a hierarchy, it’s everywhere. Do you think they will let you in? You had crapped your pants, and more than all of them together. You know what the Biblical quote Judge and Be Judged means? Sometimes it is mistakenly said that it is supposedly refers to the discussion of grief, that is, it is impossible to make the same news about explosions. But it has a continuation that is often thrown away. And it says: ‘And who will judge, to those shall be applied the same methods,’ that is, it is a saying about lynching. As you don’t understand it, moron,” she laughed, and this laugh was devilish, against the background of an orange landscape.

The author’s note: I have always repeated and will repeat, the most unloved thing of what some individuals associated with religion say: the ban on discussing tragedies, catastrophes, post the videos of various accidents. This quote generally refers to another thing (in particular, to beating with stones), and those who support hypocrisy and still cite to religion, I advise prohibit religion itself. Since I do not understand how the consideration of the passions of Christ can correspond, and not contradict this position—I’m not even kidding. Concerning the opinion of Nikonov himself: such people simply do not understand that they are not only against the disabled themselves, but also the great artists (epilepsy of Salvador Dali, at least). This is a vast layer of mass culture and non-mass culture, up to world culture that is universally recognized. (2017)

“As if you will come in paradise,” Nikonov said. “What about a creation of the idol with these photo sessions? And actually, do you know the secret of your surname? Do you know that it is covered with a black stripe? Among Shirokova’s namesake was the one who was judged for committing attacks in order to steal money in the late eighties. And besides the attacks, he committed very cruel crimes.”

He is not connected with our family, and you had crapped your pants more. You wrote it yourself, it’s your personal opinion, moron. I can tell you that. If you have any children with Down syndrome, then do whatever you want with them. Send them to the gas chamber, as it was in the Second World War, for example. Burn toxins like the fire behind you,” there was a catastrophe at the Sayano-Shushenskaya hydroelectric station. “You can dismember their internal organs, as did it Vikings in the Old Ages. Every time they commenced from the spine by sabre, using it they gradually reached all tissues, organs and bones. I cannot say that you will not be judged according to the laws of the Russian Federation, it is unlikely that the devil’s hunchback will give you a buy-out. But fuck, what are you commanding of others’ actions, moron?”

Nikonov turned his back, looked at the explosion, laughed angrily and said,

“I’m thinking you’ll play in a benefactor? Well, what are you stand around and watching? Go out, you must save them,” and again, he laughed angrily very much.

He angered Yulia very much, and he is not suspecting that this could be expected from her. She crept up behind him, she took off the swing and hit his head with all her might. In real life she would have caused great damage to the skull. It may be resulting in squeezing the nearest soft tissue of the brain leading to a loss of consciousness. Also, she made him fall off the cliff. At a minimum, his intracranial trauma in his pocket. Then she threw down the swing.

Depending on the strength and location of traumatic object, it could be fraught with external cerebral trauma, squeezing the eyes down, fracture of the nose, or knocking out a large part of the teeth in the case of near or around head, as well as further compression of the brain. In the most serious injury, it would be threatening instant death due to the compression of the heart by the feather’s bones, not to mention the fact that the bones themselves will be broken into several parts. Needless to say, this causes profuse internal and external bleeding, because more than one blood vessel has been damaged. But the swing could just fly at a distance, the slope is a fairly heterogeneous surface and no one can guarantee that they will fall to the the same trajectory.

This is without taking into account the crap that will meet him on the slope. The slope in her dream was huge, the bottom not visible, as it is closed by trees. But if the slope is small and flat, actually, one can survive even after a hit by large swing. But there is no guarantee that it will not be torn by local stray dogs, typical for the post-Soviet regions. In this injury, it will look like a decomposed corpse—fragments of internal organs along with remnants of the external appearance and a large amount of blood, and in places, depending on what and how it was eaten, it can look like a prehistoric skeleton. And more and more it will become similar to it. If he regains consciousness and sees or feels like he is being eaten in real-time mode, then it will be a painful death. If the dogs do not commence from the head (until he will fall from a small slope), he will have less than half an hour to say goodbye to his own life.

And if is it from a large slope? If on the slope there are some branches, a blunt metal, a sharp metal or glass objects, then there will be additional damage. They can also appear in the case of friction between the body and the surface. Or, let’s his legs get stuck in the tree, and the remaining bones and tendons will split and fall down. At the same time it forms a waterfall of blood. If he did not lose consciousness during the fall, he would lie down for several hours, and yet he would die of heavy bleeding. Because no one will work to stop his death. Most likely, he will still make death-moans, something like an agony, provided that his mouth did not make impact with the ground. And in the latter case, he would die not from bleeding, but from suffocation, and in a matter of minutes unlike several hours.

But in any case, she killed him. But it was a dream, now she’s awake. The clock was about five a.m. Her hands and head were sweating, the blanket was dropped during her dream. Firstly, she felt a heat; secondly, a lot has happened. And not only Pavel, but also a funeral of best girlfriend’s father.

Without any laughter, she thought neutrally: “Apparently, he’s very bother you, if you kill Nikonov in your dreams.” As usual, most recently, it was about five o’clock in the morning. After her sleep, she had not remembered monitors with road accidents, railway or air crashes, only the last moment about the appearance of Nikonov.

She checked Sasha—she seemed to sleep quietly and Yulia went to make coffee. And she recalled her dream a bit. “But if drawing is not according to the rules, it will appeal to only one person. And there are areas where the violation of the rules is dangerous for life.” She came up with a poem that she began to write down:

This is my territory, my laws and my order,
If you don’t like that—you can cross my border.
Do you know, as if you give me a car I’ll sleep with you?
You know, I prefer to command on my own,
Your luck is clearly not on your zone.
I’m just a person of simple things.
If you don’t like my order—get away from me,
Neither I’ll force you; nor you force my tree,
If you don’t want to, get away from me.
You wanna be with me,
But I wanna be free.
I has my own order, some art
Don’t you like something?
Go away, goodbye le gars.
Don’t start the chitchat,
Remember that
Nobody here was holding you.
You sat down at the table, nobody forced you.
But I always have my own rules
Don’t carry your money, I’ll not accept it.
They are in second place.
Above all, we’re in love.
We’re together, better,
With you, I feel like a feather,
But until such time as we are together.
While we won’t get bored with each other.
We don’t have to sit for twenty-four hours,
It’s better to meet through some times.
Let’s admit, our personal life could annoy,
In this way, once in a while, you swallow and enjoy.
Is it only bad, really? It’s very good.
I’ll show my face when I’ll be needed for you,
I can’t your enemy, I’m not out of view.
We need each other, and especially I,
But let me see you in another time.
I refuse simply, don’t saying a ton of phrases.
These are my rules, you know what you signed up for.
I’m a different one, but the point isn’t a phone model.
I’m right to my own laws that I coddle for order.
I’m accustomed to do this, I can’t do in another way,
You too? I’m taking off my hat,
I don’t care about cool cars,
Cellular phones, uniqueness—it’s reckless,
And it’s posturing, not freshness,
I’m a person of simple things,
I love both tenderness and sweetness,
I accept both cold and hardness.
Besides if it’s about me,
Tell me what I did wrong.
That’s the way I live by my own lights,
This is my territory and my rights.

She did the verse without any caesura, that is, the separation on the column. As usual, the chorus could be one part, and the verses—a completely different one. The actual arrangement of the original thought at the beginning or at the end is completely irrelevant. Or it could just some lines between them.

She went to the rehearsal room, phoning to her team.

“Well, did you find out about the explosion in Bitsevsky?” Zhenya asked. “Has anyone suffered?”

“You will laugh, there was no explosion—this is a rumor.”

“Listen to me, you’re sick. You has a syndrome of the fake metal detector in Bitsevsky Park,” as usual, he joked in his style and laughed, said goodbye.

“Goodbye, I’ll meet you; Zhenya, call the rest people.”

When Yulia got to the rehearsal room, she saw Zhenya lying with a guitar together with a nosebleed. Thinking that he felt ill, she crouched and decided to measure the pulse as he got up and said,

“Aha, did you really think that?” and he laughed as if broke Zhenya up.

“That’s funny,” all the other musicians said almost in chorus and jumped out of the pre-amplifier.

“Where did you get the blood?”

“Yes, somehow I accidentally hurt myself.”

“Is there any material? Are we fools who will work or do we need a throne?”

“Yes, it’s here, I wrote.”

Everyone read this verse without speaking, and then they said,

“And who will group the structure? Is it Stremanov? As if you don’t facilitate his work.”

“I suggest made a working version, because it is impossible.”

“Working?” Yulia said. “Okay, let’s say like that:”

She went over and emphasized the lines of the verse.

This is my territory, my laws and my order,
We don’t have to sit for twenty-four hours,
It’s better to meet through some times.
Let’s admit, our personal life could annoy,
In this way, once in a while, you swallow and enjoy.
Is it the only bad, really? It’s very good.
I’ll show my face when I’ll be needed for you,
I can’t your enemy, I’m not out of view.

In this verse, the first line was at the beginning, and everything else—passed after the middle. In the verse there can two, and sometimes three lines, it is unlikely that Stremanov will reduce that, he will think about a common meaning.

“You must copy that version, or the old one will distract you.”

The musicians started from this one. As usual, they thought where she had to sing, where and who plays, Yulia also tried to keep in mind the working verse and so on. Surrendering to the craze’s wave for electronic music, the manager invited a new musician, as their joint duet with Alexander Krasovytsin is not a top musician. So, at least, it will not a sell-out.

Sometimes they were distracted from the vocals, working on interchanges between the verses and the chorus. As Stremanov said to Dima: “If I hear tom-tomes from verses, you’ll hear from me the word stereotype, and it became that some years ago.” On the other hand, Dima himself did not like the bass guitar, because it always argues with the bass drum, working on the same ranges. If they really played the bass, then at medium frequencies. At the same time, he himself solved sound conflicts when creating his pads, as it is customary to call any musical electronic sound (just not a guitar).

Yulia returned home, turned on the laptop and first called Aysha, telling her about her dream.

“Did you kill someone using the swing. A person that is very hated?”

“It’s very hated, but you may not know.”

“The main thing is that you didn’t feel a headache.”

Some propagandize not so much pseudoscience as they seek to support in this way.

Yulia decided to get in touch with Pavel. After greeting him, she asked:

“Is nothing unforeseen happened?”

“No, Svetlana is delirious, says, she wants to escape from home from her relatives.”

“Did you convince her?”

“I convinced her now, there is no problem.”

© Copyright 2019 RomanBoukreev. All rights reserved.


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