I'll start a little bit about myself. I am 28 years old, I'm mature, held a woman, I have a well-paid, interesting job, schedule sliding, free time there. She was married. The love we had 16, it is a year older, married to my 18. I was sure that we'd be together until death. And so it happened. Her husband died when I was 22. Crash, brakes failed, the car at high speed soft-boiled, well, that no one was hurt. Children do not have time to give birth. I do not know whether fortunately or unfortunately. During the year, I cope with depression, psychologists, medicines, everything. Right, I am stepping down from the head to work. And somehow gone, I began to think that the man I do not need. I tried to meet with a colleague from work, was registered on dating sites, but it was "wrong". I looked at all the men and I understand that it's just some people. I do not see myself hugging, kissing of strangers. Girlfriends Mom and advised to go to a psychologist, sex therapist and so on, it is kind of like a normal woman should want to, if not married, though the sex ... But I do not see the problem: I do not want and everything. I do not want to want. I all arranged: Apartment is (odnushka, I have enough), cat (kitten picked up from the garbage, very affectionate), work, hobbies (sew toys, sometimes sell at fairs), what else do you want? But Mother continued to clutch at his heart, alluding to the fact that it is heavy to be "defective" daughter, "what people will say."
Last summer, I met Andrew. He is 25, also 2 years ago lost his wife, from her daughter left, brings himself, with the help of her mother. Actually, and met with his daughter when he came to the fair, where I sell my toys. Word for word, exchanged contacts, began to meet. I liked the daughter, everything is fine, in general, he told me the New Year has made an offer. It was nice to me. But not more. But my mother was pressing, and age seems already ... their children ... And I want to "party" is not bad, intelligent man, and his father checked on quality already. In general, I took six months to think. Andrei said that if we are to meet these six months, and the desire to get married he will not get lost, I accept the proposal. It is a little hurt, because he wanted to, I screamed with joy, and agreed to marry votpryamzavtra, but agreed to wait. We met once, rarely twice a week, with Sundays normally when, then, together with his daughter somewhere to go: a circus, a zoo, McDonalds, dolphin ... To me all these children's entertainment is not very interesting, tired of the monotony. I'm actually fond of active recreation: skiing, biking, hiking, everything. But Andrew homebody, and daughter all in it. Bicycle they do not have, and does not want to buy it, "rank". In general, with a man I was practically just for sex, but the monotony was annoying. I traveled alone or with friends somewhere on their interests, enrolled in the tourist club ... Andrew resented that I was not interested in him, and I - I could answer? "Yes, it is not interesting?" I began to wonder whether I really should marry "a good guy" to "like everyone else" and no more.
Somehow I remembered that as a child she loved to climb on the roofs. We have now it was a popular entertainment. We found the abandoned houses, climbed up to the attic, got out on the roof, there are arranged "secret meeting." It struck me in nostalgia, I decided to repeat the feat. Climb on the Internet, I learned about the movement Rufer, read the forums. It turned out there, which is the same building in my neighborhood recently just broke the lock, locking the attic, and as long as there is open access. Although low, but enough for me to start. Capturing sandwiches, juice pack, the player with headphones and a camera, one weekend I went there in order to indulge in contemplation of my city, to mourn and reflect on the future life. Normally I liked to do it in the mountains, but in this year's work, I flew to the summer holidays, so get to the mountains I did not shine this summer. Night was chosen clear, starry. It was the beginning of June, the weather was warm.
At the entrance of the house, I got pretty easy, just waiting when someone will come. Climbing up to the top floor, I saw that really opened the attic. I climbed back. Well, of course! Bottles, cigarette butts, nagazheno and condoms lying around. Homeless people, drug addicts, Rufer? And then people complain that, say, ordinary citizens have no place to admire the town, all attics locked. That's right, that locked up!
Out on the roof, I first saw the stars and the moon. Yes, in the big city from the bottom of the stars can not see because of the illumination! And here - in the south. Large, in the black sky, so close. I sat next to the exit from the attic, got sandwiches, stuck the headphones with your favorite sad songs ...
On the second song I heard it. Someone here on the roof, howling plaintively. First, through the sounds of music, I thought that a dog or cat. But by turning off the music, I realized that the man's voice. Male. And having listened, and make out the words.
- Lord, help me, what is it, but when it will end, as can be, I can not go on, Mom, Mom, save me, why all this, why did this to me ...
And many other things like that. Endless. Round. I shrank with fear point. You never know who may be on the roof? Again, drug addicts, some disassembly. I wanted to leave quietly, but his voice was crying so I thought - and who knows what? Suddenly someone needed help? Look out, I see, have time to escape through the attic, there is call the police, if that. I went around the booth, from which exit to the roof.
On the edge of the roof, clutching the railing and buried in his forehead, sat a man. And the young. Beside him stood opolovinennaya bottle of cognac or whiskey. Cried he is. More there was nobody around. I called out to him. He winced and looked at me. Not a boy. In view of thirty years, plus or minus. Eyed such as the lemur, a dark-haired. Windbreaker top Lacoste T-shirts, jeans decent. In general, not a homeless person and is unlikely addict, clean and well-dressed. I sat next to him and asked if everything was ok. "Yes, good". "Problems?" "No, it's okay, a little melancholy." "Well, it happens. I sit down here?" "Okay". He offered me a whiskey. Jack Daniels, not tangle-legs. Sam did not drink, he said he had enough. And, indeed, his eyes were already pyanyuschie. Yes, and behavior. But apologized that no glass. I'm not squeamish, a little sip. I drink a little, but a little brandy to have a conversation on the roof - the most it.
We talked. Well, the classics. He told me that himself from the orphanage, her mother was an alcoholic, he drank themselves, deprived of parental rights, his children's home, and she dopilas and died 2 years later. Apartment cutting, so he went out in 18 years not a stitch. But vocational school graduated, found a job, and later married his boss. He lived with his wife in perfect harmony in an apartment, to get her inheritance, in early May, the wedding was celebrated a decade. "Love to the grave" (I had goose bumps on the back ran as soon as he said this phrase, well I do not like it for the reasons stated above). No, no children. I went on a business trip for three weeks. He came back, and in the vestibule of his belongings are neatly stacked in boxes and bags. I rang the doorbell of the apartment. He opened it a man in his underwear. "You do not live here anymore." A behind - his wife. Face cold, indifferent. "As it happens, I'm sorry. We can no longer live together. And with the work you had better leave." And I shut the door. My friend the night was so shocked that suitcase with the things in the same place on the platform left, turned and walked out the door, bought a bottle in the shop - and on the roof. Yes, his wife flat in the same house. On the third floor.
I see a drunk guy in the hollow, barely turn their language. Start asking him whether there is a place to go, do not I call someone or taxi call. He told me: "I do not have to, it's okay, I have all decided." I ask suspiciously: "And I hope you're not going to jump out of here?" "No. Stupid idea. The brain on the asphalt." I pouspokoilas. More we talked a little bit. Then he suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. He took from his pocket a bottle, white such plastic, in which drugs are. "From the roof of this idiocy, I started drinking booze pills." My heart boomed so that almost all the floors to the ground, do not try. I thought hopefully, maybe makes fun? She took a jar, read the name - a sleeping pill, my mom is drinking. OTC. And the jar is empty. What to do in such cases - I xs, as they say. I looked at him like a sheep at a new gate ... and he closes his eyes and falls back.
I'm still hoping that he makes fun, grab him by the shoulders, planting, begin to shake. He opens his eyes, the look does not focus immediately rolls his eyes and leans back. Knock - dull, back of the head on the iron roof. The sound brought me from the initial shock. She took the phone, most likely due, called its data. Well I remember that the house number, but I read it on the forum. Phone operator said, bother, do not give to sleep, go to bed ... not to give conversation ended - and I'm alone on this roof, in front of me, this guy, lying, eyes closed. I began to bother him - moving, mumbles something, and again subsides. I Those guys do not remember what to do in such cases, or may not have anything ... And yet the very thought, and it's s how these pills he was drinking: swallowed and washed down, or dissolved in a bottle? I also saw, though a bit dumb ... it was a long time so I was not scared, since that accident, maybe ...
In short, I grab this loser's jacket, shaking start, yelling at him, her cheeks luplyu. Hands pull over, to the villages, and he throws his head back and his mouth open. He was not fat, but all some softened, heavy, like a doll, stuffed with sand. I'm tired at the moment, in general. And then he went to go vomit ... mouth and nose as much, and abundantly so. Not at the table be it said to someone, but it seems that not long before he had time to eat, and more. I vomited, naturally. One problem less, at least not have to worry about that whiskey could be me these pills. Turned this hill-suitsidnika somehow sideways, hold that opened the mouth, the roof down into the gutter, vomit flowing ... two streams, mixing at the edge. Overhead, the sky starry, light breeze, the noise of the city somewhere far away ... I even rzhach struck. You want romance roof, my girl? I received congratulations!
Of course, it was hysterical. Ridiculously was not quite the word. I understand a little first aid, no more than the average person. Somewhere educational program listened somewhere on YouTube watching, but that's how it is all used - xs. Man, this is how I put it, not moving, throat gurgling something, and you do not understand - whether breathes so, whether feeding and will die votpryamschaz. I gave him two fingers in his mouth, the root of the tongue pressed. He vomited again. Me too. You know what feeling when you tears, and here the situation is ... The guy has the pants on a wet spot spreads. Honestly, I thought everything was dead. I barely had the strength - a finger in his mouth, all that was there, cleaned ... finally coughed. But in itself did not come, no matter how I fingered. It stayed with him for twenty minutes until the ambulance with not taken.
Of course, then I called the police, I gave testimony that accidentally got locked in, the victim did not know the tablet is not slipped, gave to drink whiskey ... However, I was told that it is all the formalities, because the guy in intensive care in a trice pumped. And he is awake, immediately admitted that yes, tried to commit suicide. Not much had been poisoned because of the fact that not drinking on an empty stomach, and vomiting was. Of course, then he was sent to a psychiatric hospital, golovushku treat.
But the story did not end on this. Passed month. One day I was sitting in the evening, watching the show with sandwiches and a cat, all of a sudden - the doorbell. Who! What for? I'm not expecting anyone. I opened. Is it worth the grief onion. In the hands of a bunch of flowers, all mixed up - roses, daisies, carnations, and some grass. Apparently it bought in any flower shop, where "Cheaper by the Dozen." To more. And above all this bush - those enormous eyes. Black, like a gypsy, and big, like a lemur. "That's out of the hospital released, I came to thank you." Smiling shyly, and scrub their vanities. "View can be?" He pushes me along with the bush, pass me the apartment, and a suitcase drags. On wheels.
To be continued.
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