Unlimited

At such moments many people suffered from unbearable and unanswered love. They wanted to cut their veins to calm insurgent pain down. Picture of beloved haunted them day and night, not letting mind alone for a second. Bottom of stomach was twisted because of unexpected and unreasonable thoughts. There were only wild schemes where beloved finally condescended and kissed them. While an imagined picture was touching with its lips, wrapping its arms around, mind was walking away to be lost. They couldn’t say no yet to themselves or imagination, they could only yield to it, absolutely refusing common sense. They couldn’t eat, drink, there was a beloved in dreams, there’s a dream about the beloved in the reality… Oh dear God, could it be love? Did people really think and call it love? What an uncommon bullshit! Love, for sure, was a brutal and unbridled bitch, knowing nothing about pity and mercy. It was like a plague and there’s no treatment for it. No true love could be treated with medicine… only death could help and oppressive silence after it.

In fact, there was more dangerous thing than love and it is severer. It doesn’t have time to wait and make mad. It has obligation to deprive of sleeping and sense for very short terms. No, it’s not an infatuation or sexuality. It’s passion. Like a match passion burns a human and he or she, burning inside, runs and looks for a place to plunge to calm the fire down that ruthlessly licks off skin pieces and gets closer to head. If a person felt passion once he perfectly gets what it is about, how much it hurts and how weak a person comes. Of course, he or she’s weak not only in moral way but in physical, getting exhausted also. Passion is like a gigantic tapeworm, stuck in and sucked it dry to the very last drop. But a human keeps on crying “I love you”. He or she still has no idea that faced with no love. He or she is alone on passion ship in a tremendous storm, in the middle of eternal ocean. And the ship is about to sink down. The man is afraid of saying “I want you” … He doesn’t believe these words. He believes “I love you” but love isn’t aware about it. He calls it love to justify his animal lust. People have the greatest faith in that the difference is very big: to say to a woman “I love you” and “I wanna fuck you”. There is difference only for linguists actually, but in life there is no difference. Love between sexes means “I wanna fuck you”.

But in the context of just passion then “I love you” means nothing. This is not necessary yet. Passion has already put its fingers into Victoria, having troubled her minds. At that moment she wanted just to see him…

‘Here you are!’ Daniel appeared on the path. ‘I’ve run around the whole park already, finally I’ve found you. I called you… you didn’t answer.’

The young man followed her hands with his eyes: the cell was strongly clutched in her fingers.

‘I suppose it’s no use to say that you didn’t hear it…’ Daniel sat near her. ‘Why, Vic? What’s wrong?’

Vic shifted her gaze. She knew the end was close but had no idea what to say.

Breaking up is always difficult, especially, if everything seems to be fine. Just feelings happen to be gone… And a wild passion intrudes a habit to live with someone. And you can’t pretend anymore that you love.

‘I know all.’ She said in a low voice aside.

‘You know what?’ a note of alarm sounded in his voice.

‘I know where and whom you were with.’ Victoria looked in Daniel’s eyes. The young man looked concerned definitely.

‘Who told you?’ he asked.

‘What difference will that make?’

‘It’s a lie…’

‘The thing that you are telling? Yes, it’s a lie. Why’re you unable to admit your lying? Why do you prefer to tie yourself into knots but not to stop lying? Enough is enough, Daniel!’

The young man put his hand to his face. He fetched a sigh and looked ahead. Victoria was looking at him and waiting for his answer.

Suddenly minute speck of dust and dried spurs rolled over the road. An unexpected wind blew them up. It was strong and warm. Her loose hair was swung in the wind, hiding her face. She frowned and looked at where the unnatural wind was blowing from. In some new leaves which flying head over heels Kharon was walking through them.

The horror possessed Victoria, her hands shook, fear little by little paralyzed her body.

Kharon wasn’t alone, there was a girl walking with him on his arm. She was mumbling something but Kharon wasn’t listening to her. He was devouring Victoria with his squinty eyes. There was a vague disembodied smile on his lips.

The wind twitched his hair and shirt tail. Everything seemed to be changing infinitely fast except the demon’s look.

“What a lovely picture. You are plotting against how to break up, aren’t you? I shall help you. Her name is Julia. A blond. She is 22. She has got a car and a rich father. Her eyes are blue. They made love three times in the Indian Ocean, four times in a hotel room and once on the plane when they had a flight there. She has got a very beautiful undergarment and she loves sex. She does not need any obligations. Think more. Any ideas?”

Kharon passed by, put his story into the girl’s head mentally. When he had passed by the bench where Vic and Daniel were sitting, the wind failed, June, awash in sunset lights and green, came back to the park.

‘Who told you?’ the young man asked.

Victoria had already heard that question for five minutes ago.

‘Have you seen?’ she suddenly asked.

‘What?’ Daniel asked again in surprise.

‘Gloominess, the wind, bedfellows who have just passed by…’

‘Nobody’s passed … Vic. What wind? Gloominess?’ he gave her a puzzled look then touched her forehead. ‘How are you feeling?’

Vic winced and avoided him like leper, understanding nothing about what was going on. She could have sworn it had happened in waking life, what Kharon said to her… the wind, the sun fading away. All of those were too real to be untruth.

‘Who told me?’ she asked again. ‘What difference will that make?’

‘It’s a lie.’

That conversation had already happened. Vic had heard it already. The cold enveloped her legs and hands, her consciousness and common sense were fogged. The girl accused herself of insanity. But then she remembered what Kharon said passing by.

‘You went to the Indian Ocean. When we were having a flight there you had sex on the plane, in WC room. Her name’s Julia. She’s 22. She has a rich father. She’s blond and has blue eyes. You had sex three times in the ocean…’

Victoria saw the young man’s eyes getting wider half-frightening, half-realizing that his girl knew the truth, half-surprising where she got the truth from if he hadn’t said to anyone.

‘…Four times in a hotel room.’ She was on the verge of tears because of grief and the truth. ‘She has a beautiful undergarment…’

Daniel was himself on the verge of tears listening to his girl’s voice.

‘…She loves sex and doesn’t need obligations…’

Victoria couldn’t stand that anymore and burst into tears, putting her hands on her face. The young man was indescribable shock. He stared fixedly in front of himself, seeing nothing. He was frustrated. Victoria wasn’t supposed to have had all the information. Where did she get it? How could she know about sex? About a hotel room?

‘How did you get it?’ curiosity overcame him, ‘Did Julia blab?’

‘I hope you understand that we are done?’ Victoria got up, dried her eyes. ‘You betrayed me, Daniel. Betrayed. I could have forgiven many things, but this, I can’t forgive this. I can’t get and accept it. It’s a very disgusting lie.’

She took her bag and went to underground. She’d been never so upset. She fretted about breaking up and it hurt her. A disturb confidence is more painful than just to break up.

What can happen when you suddenly realized that you turned out to trust nobody. Nobody. Even yourself. Someone doesn’t care about, and others are hurt. They, who don’t care, just got over it. Maybe it’s not so scared when you give up on surrounding persons. All the eternal life nature and merciless society make everyone be ready for that we shall come on disappointment sooner or later; we shall come on the thing after that we shall be able to give a definition of betrayal with no definition dictionary usage.

But giving up on trust yourself is terrible. You started being afraid of yourself, of your own thought, of everything that is happening in your head.

Victoria could trust herself: the wind, the clouds, a man and a woman walking through the park. All of those couldn’t be an illusion. The girl fully expected it to take place in the reality. If it wasn’t, then how to explain the information which Kharon had given to her? Vic couldn’t read minds but not on that one. She clearly remembered his voice, softly whispering about the past in her head. But the demon’s lips were closed. He was just walking and smiling. But he kept silence!

Victoria couldn’t say she was crazy: she was capable of hearing Kharon’s voice. Could it be a trick? Was anyone kidding her?

The girl broke into the flat, grasped the spell paper, the razor blade and ran to the bathroom. With no thinking she cut her finger and started reading the text. She could read fluently the spell by heart already.

Water made noise, steaming the mirror surface, Vic was reading the spell. Her mother was watching TV without even knowing what a bacchanalia took place in the bathroom. The girl was still reading the text, the blood was dropping into the sink, and steam was getting thicker. A man silhouette appeared behind the girl. It was hardly to see through the steam. Kharon. He came.

‘I can feel you,’ the girl whispered, dragged her gaze away from the overused piece of paper. ‘I can feel your warmth…’

Kharon touched her shoulder and took a step closer, taking the girl in his arms. Not one battalion of little cramps ran down her body immediately which at once switched off logic and common sense.

‘Will you try to slap me in the face again? To lie to yourself again that you do not want me to touch you?