Lies of closed eyes

Lies of closed eyes
Виктория Олеговна Рогозина

An interesting story not based on real events. The characters are original and fictional. In addition to all life (and not so) horrors, the book describes an extraordinary and beautiful love story. Or maybe not.

Lies of closed eyes

Виктория Олеговна Рогозина

© Виктория Олеговна Рогозина, 2023

ISBN 978-5-0059-4625-6

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Lies of closed eyes

An interesting story not based on real events. The characters are original and fictional. In addition to all life (and not so) horrors, the book describes an extraordinary and beautiful love story. Or maybe not.

– Prologue-

– The thought is material. Is always. Anywhere and everywhere. We are what we think, how we think and about what. What matters is HOW we think. You probably noticed that some people think completely differently. Each from the height of his flight… experience… goals… inspiration… Your judgments may not coincide, you can come to the same conclusion in different ways or disagree with the same approach.

The venerable lecturer in the cassock walked leisurely from side to side along the blackboard.

– God teaches us to love. God teaches us good. A kind, bright person does not focus on the negative side of life.

The students obediently wrote down everything in notebooks, softly squeaking with ballpoint pens and keeping the audience quiet.

“Well, why did I not sunk you like that?” – Michael looked at the slender, quiet student and remembered. Once upon a time, he also sat in the classroom, recorded lectures. Nothing changes.

– Chapter 1-

And happiness was so possible…

Seraphim in the Jewish and Christian tradition —

the highest angelic rank, closest to God.

The strongest and most powerful angels in Christianity.

Beings whose tasks were to carry out the orders of God

on earth and the fight against the forces of darkness.

The lecture turned out to be boring – it could not be a discovery, because rarely was the material given in an exciting way. Such is the usual life of a student – write down what is required and cramming in order to pass the exam in the future. As always, the teacher was not too concerned about our real learning, leaving the main (read, as most) material for independent study. I entered Moscow State University and yes, this is not the Moscow State University that you could just think of, although it was also located in the “non-rubber”, the capital of our vast beloved homeland. Magical State University was famous for constantly trying to compete with the equally famous Lemur Academy, which, alas, got the best of the best, but this competition made no sense – not the level. I had no particular talent. I could not boast of anything at all, except for a foul character and a bunch of bad habits.

The university and the dormitory were located in one of the Moscow Stalinkas. I liked to get to the roof – an amazing place far away and at the same time close to people. And there was an amazing view from there. Moscow is an eternally sleepless city, a city of lights and parties. I liked to be on the roof and watch how somewhere there, people are bustling about, like ants are scurrying about.

I moved to the “non-rubber” recently, slightly late for the start of the school year. My small town couldn’t offer any decent options other than marrying a wino “everything like people” or living on credit, which, however, would correspond to the previous point. And also give birth to kids and live a “happy” full life. But such a prospect (if it can be called a prospect at all) did not smile at me. Having spit on everything and on the principle of “take everything from life”, I took a chance to enter hardcore and, op-pa, I entered, having passed the exams with an average passing score. Fortunately, I was lucky and allocated a small room on the penultimate floor – a small closet, but extremely comfortable. And most importantly, this “solitary cell” will not have to be shared with anyone. Many expressed sympathy for me, considering for some reason that I live in inhuman conditions, but I did not share this opinion. Generally accepted opinion in general often ran counter to mine. In general, there was another room to choose from, but there I would have to share a place with three more girls, but square meters did not infringe on “personal space”. But living alone is much better.

A deafening bell rang and the students slowly gathered up, getting ready for the next class, talking among themselves, discussing the last lecture and the imminent lunch break – oh yes, holy lunch. All training was based on some very strange system, more reminiscent of the logic of a drunken gopher who visited an art gallery during Mercury retrograde. A very large block was devoted to mythology, psychology and religion of the world, which for my understanding was beyond good, evil and other living creatures. At the very first lecture, it was as if they told us the ultimate truth, like an annoying mantra, that a thought is material, that it is fulfilled and that we must do everything to translate all our thoughts into reality. Well, complete nonsense. Who can seriously believe this? If this were real, then humanity would have put an end to hostility and hunger long ago. Despite the fact that for a year now all TV channels have been broadcasting that vampires, werewolves and other evil spirits are quite real, it looked like another stage of zombification and an opportunity to blame possible “hanging” and “grouse” on otherworldly forces. And it was only recently that we survived another pandemic, and now some vampires. Well, at least “MMM” was not returned, and thanks for that.

Stumbling over the threshold, I entered the audience and, thank God, no one paid attention to me. Students communicated, filmed something on their phones in popular social networks, shared likes, boasted of followers. Someone was listening to terrible music through a speaker. A group of guys in the “gallery” played cards. Another group of students were arguing loudly, trying to decide which school was better: Lemur Academy or Whale Academy. At the moment, these are the most popular educational institutions, whose graduates become famous throughout the globe, those who are ready to bend the world, work and May for the company. Despite the fact that opinions were divided, but whatever one may say, everyone spoke positively about the Lemur Academy, although there were a great many rumors around this institution and its graduates and not all of them were unambiguous. It was more like myths and legends about free education (if I don’t forget, I’ll write such a post on my social network).

– Taylor, – Vosmyachkin sat down next to me. A kind and very gentle guy who strove for dialogue. Extrovert, in a word. Normal. Sociable, sometimes without any measure, which is why he runs into rudeness. The same person that they sing about “this guy was one of those who just love life.”

– Hello, – out of politeness, I slightly stretched my lips in a smile that tried to grow into a hyena’s grin, the inconvenience was such that a little more and reduce the jaw. I was forced to pull out one earpiece, hinting that I was not too eager to communicate, although Vosmyachkin had never been stopped by such behavior.

– Did you make matan?

– Yes.

– Wow, that’s cool. Can you explain to me the solution for the seventh, eighth, twentieth and twenty-third tasks, – he checked some notes in his notebook. – I’m not sure I made the right decision. But maybe I will find a mistake with you, and it turns out that I did everything right.

Yes, yes, he considers women more stupid than men, and in any case he tries to at least hint at this; as a maximum – poke a muzzle and hurt more. I don’t want to argue, I don’t want to convince. I don’t need it. However, I don’t need anything. Just go with the flow, detachedly observing life. I had no goals, no dreams, just a certain detachment, perhaps apathy.

– I can let you write off, but I will not explain anything. I’m not a tutor, – I offered the most painless option for myself. And then last time Vosmyachkin demanded an explanation of all thirty-two tasks and did not lag behind until they really sorted everything out. I remembered already shuddered, I would not want to repeat such an experience.

– Goes.

Shrugging my shoulders, I took out the right notebook from my backpack and gave it to my classmate.

“I’ll bring it in in the evening,” he assured with an oath, after a little screening, observing a social distance, but that’s not the point. Vosmyachkin, like the others, tried not to sit close to me, noticing that I liked solitude. I do not like being in society, but society is an integral part of our life, which is difficult to refuse in modern realities.

An iridescent bell marked the end of the break, and the students sat down together in their places, preparing to “nibble on the granite of science.” The religion of the world was taught to us by an elderly priest. Surprisingly, he could captivate students and almost immediately fell in love with everyone. Bishop Innokenty, whom the students affectionately called “Father”, taught well. Rumor has it that the director could hardly persuade the bishop to teach students, but as it turned out, it was important to carry the doctrine and the light. Batiushka never offended any of the religions, singling out each equally, emphasizing the differences. As a rule, he devoted the second part of the pair to answering the questions of students, who were specially written down on pieces of paper and left on the teacher’s table, thus the questions became anonymous. And even if some questions were repeated, he, with all his patience, gave explanations. I liked listening to him. He never lectured, never criticized, treated everyone with warm indulgence, like an older brother who loves his little sister very much. Perhaps, in our university, this is the only subject with 100% attendance.

After this couple, everyone hurried to the dining room in order to get enough of cheap coffee and energy drinks with various synthetic additives. Fortunately, the food cost mere pennies. I took a far table, located on the outskirts. I didn’t eat at lunch, preferring to just sit and listen to music. Sometimes I solved my homework, thereby saving evening time.

Sometimes I was visited by strange thoughts that frightened me, because if I turned to a specialist with this, then, most likely, I would be recognized as insane. And I tried never to remember the past. I don’t like to live in memories, because the best thing is to move forward. It doesn’t matter what was, what matters is what is now, at the moment. Does my life have any weight? I don’t know, I didn’t come to any specific conclusion. Adults say that as soon as the question of vacation or sick leave arises, you turn out to be the only and irreplaceable one. But this is a lie. Anyone can be replaced and no matter where: in love, in work, in friendship and family.

I tilted my head back, staring up at the ceiling. I was crazy about smoking. Bad, not good, bad. Yes, that’s just living in general is harmful. Sighing, I came to the conclusion that I would be patient and looked at the clock. The last couple is about to start. Psychology was taught by an elderly man, Bogdan Ereinovich, all the time humorous and citing some unrealistic examples from his own practice, thus trying to involve students in a dialogue. I didn’t like it. Very often he told how it should have been in life, but in practice, it became simply impossible. At the first, and at the second and third, the teacher’s eyes were about fifty. Lonely, still living with his mother, he constantly boasted of his unconfirmed achievements. But God is his judge, if at all Bogdan Ereinovich believed in God, and in fact it is by faith that he is rewarded.

– Everyone get ready for the colloquium next week, we’ll test your motivation to study further. Everybody’s Free.

Today we were released early. Together with the general flow of students, I left the audience. Weaving along a wide corridor, I turned to the stairs and began my “climb up the mountain.” Although there were elevators at the University, they turned out to be very small, old and extremely uncomfortable, and even in poor technical condition. Once again, I tried to walk, especially when time and strength allowed. Yes, and I was afraid to get stuck – I don’t seem to suffer from claustrophobia, but I wouldn’t want to check it.

The room greeted me with pleasant coolness and blissful silence. Closing the creaking door behind her and taking off her shoes, she threw her backpack on the floor and fell on the bed with a swing, having previously set the timer on the phone. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I was a rare gouging, sometimes I lost time. And now, in order not to fall through the whole evening and not be lazy, I kind of meditated. In fact, at such moments, there were absolutely no thoughts in my head. Ringing emptiness and eternally gray Moscow sky in the window. A little more and it will start to get dark, this is exactly what I like – Moscow, like a huge modern Babylon: great and multilingual with forever swarming ants, burns and shimmers, burning and destroying not a single hundred souls. Here, life had weight only when you could at least something to oppose society. Until now, you have been empty space. And according to this attitude, which kills like radiation, the capital could be safely compared with Chernobyl.

My body relaxed, I felt like jelly – limp, as if spreading on the bed. The amazing Vanessa Mae was playing on the headphones and I enjoyed feeling my eyelids close and I was about to fall asleep.

I shuddered sleepily from the beeping timer on my smartphone, which, unfortunately, was far enough away, and therefore protected from my sloppy actions. She grinned, realizing that she still had to get up, but… but not this minute.

Stretching sweetly, she briefly glanced out the window, through which the dim rays of the setting autumn sun were breaking through, illuminating the small cozy room of the hostel. She stretched again and sat up abruptly on the bed. Life in general does not bode well. The trill of the timer is starting to annoy, so I quickly got up, crossed the room and turned off the rather annoying melody on my smartphone.

Hands up, as if reaching out to the sky, which does not hear me, no matter how I call (figuratively speaking) the divine office, and getting up on tiptoes, I squint slightly. She glanced around her small room once more. Opposite the bed was an armchair and an adjoining table with notebooks scattered on it.

The bunk bed seemed secure. They still hoped to hook someone up with me, but so far it remained at the level of conversations. And in such conditions, other students refused to live.

Leaving the room, I reached the end of the corridor and easily climbed up the old stairs to the roof. Finally, freedom. Sitting on the very edge, legs crossed at the ankles, I took out a pack of cigarettes and lit a cigarette. Taking a puff, I slowly exhale, watching how an uneven stream, fluctuating now narrowing, then expanding, rushes into the darkening sky. The city comes alive with lights. I love this time. A huge buzzing anthill, like the All-Seeing Eye, burns, shines. Above me, a star begins to glow, erected on the very spire of the Stalinist era, illuminating my small but free area.