Em knocked at the first door she managed to locate in the darkest street she somehow crawled into. Noone was opening. She knocked once more, this time putting some effort in it. Still nothing.
Her knocking was in no way loud enough. It's the damn rain that makes it sound more like tiny scratching at the door. As if a dog was trying to hide from it and pushes its shivering body against the dry and safe wood. She could hear a woman inside the warm room cursing damn creatures already. So she finally gave up.
Em loved the rain. Just feeling raindrops gently move down her skin and leave that cold, moist path for another one to land and follow. But this time it was almost as if they were trying to pierce her skin, to hide deep inside her flesh, and some of them even to break her bones. She could swear some raindrops left bruises on her barely functional body.
Even her footsteps were silent in this long forgotten street. She tried to run but one of her shoes was missing so she was tripping and falling. Raising her head, she noticed a door, opened just enough to let a thin stream of light into the deep dark outside. Without thinking, she got up and ran inside.
There is no hallway. She is in a room with so little furniture it looks more like a storage room that has just been emptied of all the goods. But she feels and knows it is a home. It is just big enough to contain a big dining table, 6 chairs and a stove in the far right corner. There is no fire burning in it, but the room is warm somehow. And there is only one candle on the table, but it gives enough light for her to have a clear view of everything that is inside the room. And everyone.
There are a boy and a girl in the top left corner. Girl is about 6 years old, boy is 4 probably. At the desk there is a woman, young and beautiful, but sad and tired. She can tell from the look on woman's face there is something that worries her. The woman is writing a letter. And children, obviously her babies, are playing in silence with something that reminds of a rabbit, just there are no paws. Only body and long ears. Mom must have made it for them out of her old clothes and some wool to stuff the bunny.
All of the sudden, the woman calls for her children. She wants them to say a few words to their dad, so she can send it with the letter she has been writing for the past half hour. The girl approaches the table, and takes another sheet of paper, a pen and sits on a chair. She stares at the paper for a while, silently. Her mom is encouraging her to say something. And her brother is firmly holding her left hand, with the pawless rabbit in his other hand.
-
Say, Dear Dad, how are you, we miss you very much and wish you returned soon.
If only the war would already end...
And on girl's face, Em could clearly see she is having troubles even recalling memories of her father: What he looks like, how tall is he, what does his voice sound like..She stares at the child's eyes, green with two brown spots in the right one... They seem too sad and serious for a 6 year old. And tears are starting to pile up in them. She is obviously hurt by her own silence and in fear that her dad might think she does not love him unless she writes down something for him...
Slowly, Em starts to move away, trying hard to make her presence invisible to the family at the table. In her backing away, she bumps into a door handle. But the family obviously wasn't disturbed by the sounds she made. She opens the door slowly and enters another room.
. . .
This room is larger that the previous one and it is much better furnished. There is a bed at the right from the door, and another one at the opposing wall. Between them there is a TV and some cartoons are on the program. On the left there is a writing desk covered in elementary school books.. Some are for first grade, some for third.
There is a girl watching cartoons, sitting still on her bed. She is some 9 years old, so third grade books must be hers. All of a sudden, she jumps up and runs outside. Em approaches the TV, which all of a sudden seems more like a window.
The girl is in front of the window in her short, white summer dress. And there is an elderly lady crying, with a boy in her arms. Boy must be the owner of first grade books, Em concludes. Many people are around the woman and the boy, some crying, some calling the ambulance. But the girl is just silently staring at her brothers tiny legs and arms not moving and his eyes closed. The woman carrying him explains to everyone he fell off his bicycle and hurt his head. And his parents are crying and panicking. But the girl, obviously his sister, just stands there silently.. Since ambulance is not coming, father takes the boy and his mother and drives to the nearest ER. People are slowly starting to go about their own buiness, the elderly lady went away crying out of Em's sight too.. But the girl is still standing silently. All of a sudden, she turns her head and looks Em straight in her eyes. There are same two brown spots and same sorrow in child's wide opened eyes. Em backs away, startled, and walks towards the next door, right next to the writing desk.
. . .
The third room is way more cheerful than the previous two. It is painted yellow, with lots of plush toys all over the big bed to the left from the door. And a huge book shelf filled with so many various books, from Dostoyevsky to World fairytales, from Baudelaire to Collection of children poetry. There is a young girl in this room, about 19 years old, putting pictures all over it. Some are framed and find their place at the desk, some are put on walls, duckt taped to it or just nailed to it. And girl is smiling, completely unaware of Em's presence. So she starts looking at these photos without disturbing the girl.
This girl is in all these photos. In some of them, there is she with her family, father smiling and making faces, mom with her adorable wide smile, and a boy, her brother, some 2 years younger than his sister, all serious and important. There is a picture of them hugging and smiling. The boy has the exact same smile as their mother, and the girl's smile is their father's. There are photos from girls 18th birday party, photos of her first university days and new friends, and one photo of her and her father hugging with tears in their eyes, obviously saying goodbye for she is about to depart from a train station and trying to use every possible second to stay in her father's safe and loving arms. Now there are photos of the girl with a handsome young man, obviously her boyfriend for some year or two already, and they look so much in love. She is shy and smiling so naively, and he is hugging her and probably teasing her about being so shy. He is much taller, with blonde hair and green beautiful eyes, Appolo kind of material. She is average girl, not gorgeous, but sweet and definitely has something about her that makes everyone instinctively drawn to her. Em is smiling for the first time she entered this weird building. And the girl is still organising her photos, singing in half voice.
. . .
Still under the impressions of images seen in first 3 rooms, Em hesitatingly enters another one. And it is cold and dark. There is absolutely no furniture other than a sofa and a TV. There are a boy and a girl staring at it, though it is not turned on. These two are not children, she is probably 21 and he is 19, but seem so much alike the two kids Em saw in the first room. Just there is no mother and no pawless bunny to keep them company. Em tries to hold her breath while barely making distinction between these two silent faces and the dark wall behind them. All of a sudden, from the pitch dark space from her left, there enters a woman, eyes swollen and red, followed by few elderly people. She suddenly turns to them and cries out loud:
How am I going to tell them?
The boy gets up slowly without a word, and his mother huggs him firmly and starts screaming. Now everyone is crying and Em can barely contain herself. And the girl is up from her place, but noone approaches her. She just managed to say
NO! Tell me that is not true!
And fainted.
Em fainted too. After a while, she slowly regained consciousness and got up. She was all alone. And the TV was showing a funeral proccession. She sat on the girl's place and stared watching.
There is a coffin being placed in the grave. A woman, beautiful but barely alive, is screaming and holding firmly the young boy, her son. There is so many people crying at the mere glance at this sad picture. And there is that young girl, silently crying two neverending streams, whispering something that can not be heard due to loud screams and pouring rain. Something short, something whispered and continuously repeated. Em leans towards the TV to try and hear what is the girl saying..
Dad...
Dad...
As if she is aware she will never get another chance to say that again, so using these last few moments before the coffin is laid to eternal rest to say it.. She is still standing alone and as if noone notices her, much like Em was invisible on her journey trough all these rooms.
And that sad look in her eyes.. Em knows it very well, she has seen it somewhere before.
. . .
Next room is more of a psychiatrist's office. There is a man in his thirties sitting opposite to the girl from the previous room, just several months older. She is explaining something to him. She is talking about her long realtionship and the breakup, about her father's death, and something.. Something she can barely pronounce. The man is patiently listening and Em is standing there in a shock, as if it is all a dream and she cannot move an inch, and all the while has to listen to this horror story.
-
You did good by coming to me. And I perfectly understand why you never reported the case. As you already mentioned yourself, not many people would actually believe it was against your will, since he is your ex- boyfriend and you knew him for so long. And you have your family on the other hand, still shocked by the early death of your father, so this could completely ruin them. It must have been hard beyond understanding to keep your head cool and think about all the consequences of you reporting it. There would absolutely be no benefits, I understand. Your father was a police officer, so yes, his colleagues would do anything to help you. But you had no physical evidence. And your mother would be devastated. Your brother would probably try to kill him. No good would come out of reporting it. All we can do now is help you come to terms with this, as well as help you regain trust in people. You already showed signs of reasonable thinking about this issue. But these.. panic attacs in public transportation, these dreams that haunt you.. They are signs of psyche seriously disturbed by the act. I want you to know, I am not just your psychiatrist, I am also your friend. And whenever you feel a need to talk, you call me. No matter even if it is right after the session. I have met many rape victims so far, and all of them showed great desire to move on, to somehow come to terms with facts and make a better life. To make it clear, you and I are both aware you will never forget this, but you can come to terms with it alright. The process will be long and painful, it will take some time before you learn to accept it, but you have to work on it every day. You understand?
Em started to run towards the next door. Tears in her eyes, these voices ringing in her head.. She started running trough the following rooms.. She didn't see much.. Just always same sad eyes with two brown dots in the right one.. Sometimes smiling, sometimes crying, but they were there. Em started to calm down and walk normally. She opened the door to yet another room..
. . .
There is more furniture in this room than in all others together. And some toys all over the floor. A girl in her late twenties is holding a 2 year old boy. He resembles her a lot, but it is obvious she is not his mother. Still it is obvious she loves him deeply, more than anything in the world. An aunt and a nephew probably, Em thought. The girl is sitting on a sofa, holding the boy and talking to a gorgeous lady in her late forties. And another young woman and a young man, parents of the child are sitting opposite these two and smiling and talking. What a beautiful family picture indeed.
But the girl is restless and her eyes clearly show it. Her brother, the father of the child, is the only one noticing this and keeps on hunting her look so as to tell her with his eyes he wants to talk to her after the other two women are away to sleep. And she understands it well, Em thought.
In a blink of an eye, Em is all alone with brother and sister in room, talking. The girl is struggling to keep her tears from falling and he is talking gently to her..
You know how much I love you, right? And you know this is your house too. Always. But leaving him after four years realtionship... Why, sis? Why all of a sudden?
He deserves better...Thats all..
I don't think I ever loved him the way he deserved. He was my best friend, my comfrort, my shoulder to cry on. But.. There are some things you will never understand, bro. My life is haunting me and I cannot keep him miserable and expecting something I am not able to give. And I want him to be happy, I really do.
And its not that I found someone else either. No. I just cannot be as good as he deserves, that is all. Honestly, I did feel something for someone else, something I thought I will never be able to feel. But I knew all along that someone does not feel same for me. It was just a waste of emotions, I guess. He made me feel as if nothing of my previous life mattered, as if nothing happened even..But he never loved me and I knew it all very well all the time. You know, brother, I was more happy these few short months letting him talk me into trusting his feelings than I was happy ever before in my entire life. But also made me realise I should not do same he does to me to someone who honestly loves me. Because I knew very well how much it hurts.
See how confusing it all is? I loved someone who lied and lied another one who loved... In this triangle, between two men, I was the only one with guts to say truth. And only to the one I lied to. The one I loved.. I am still letting him lie. But I know deep down inside he never meant to hurt me. He is a good boy. And in no way can I ever be angry with him. I can be thankful for helping me trough all this time, for caring and understanding. He just.. didin't love me, thats all. Not his fault. After all, who could love someone like me? With all my issues and faults.. I am no love material.
My dear brother.. If I told you all my life, you would probably understand. But all you need to know is.. I am aware I can never be happy. I will never know true love. And because of that I will not lie to someone who actually cares for me. He has a chance of finding that little bit of happiness in this world. My happiness is you, our family, your son. My love life.. Never existed. From the first wound until this final blow, my heart got torn appart. Now, even if I really wanted to move on and seek love, I am not able to. I cannot face any more lies, any more fake people, any more tears. So my decision is final.
There are so many people out there who never meet their soulmate. Lets just come to terms that I am one of these lost souls.
I'll be fine. Go to sleep.
. . .
Em continued towards the next door, but the girl suddenly got up and grabbed her hand. She stared at her eyes with same sorrow she carried trough all the previous rooms. She smiled, touched her face and said:
Don't think I didn't see you until now. I was always aware you were around. I just didn't want to stop you because it seemed there is so much more you need to see and learn. You kept walking no matter what and I am proud of you. But this next door... Think carefully. Please. I will not stop you or tell you to go either.. Just think.
Em was looking at these saddened eyes, at all the tears that left these moist paths on her face.. for other ones to land on and folow... She removed the girl's hand from hers and opened the door to the final room.
. . .
... The light was blinding and Em kept her eyes closed. She could feel she was not alone. There were girls in the room... Some laughing out loud, some weeping and begging her to stop. There were sighs and laughter, children songs, some short words whispered repeatedly, and someone was holding breath right next to her ear. Em knew somehow there was a chair in this room, right under something hanging from the ceiling. She carefully searched for it, eyes closed, arms widely spread... When she finally found it, she smiled.
Em stepped on it, with help of two dozen hands. Some still short and thin, some stronger and determined. She pushed the chair and fell trough the floor. She could clearly see the light behind her eyelids closed. It was rapidly changing from bright yellow to orange and red, then turned greenish, then icy blue.
And girls voices were finally silenced.
And that bloody rain finally stopped too.
Belgrade Time
