пятница, 7 сентября 2012 г.

To fo list (story by Wasilewski). English.

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TO DO LIST (by Wasilewski).

- ... And then I decided to shoot myself. Yes, I understand that it is an escape and cowardice. I understand that giving up I abandon relatives and friends. That confer on them a burden. But it was very hard. Problems with business pressured me. The debt of my organization has exceeded 20 million. The regulatory authorities pressed almost every week. Once a man entered, introducing himself as officials of the oversight of fire safety. He asked where is the scheme of evacuation. And our office it is the only room of 30 square meters with direct access to the street and toilet. Suppliers were late in delivery. Buyers break contracts. One day organization from the top floor flooded our warehouse, spoiling the goods by one million. They accused the management company, and refused to compensate. Management company, as you can guess, laid the blame back to the tenant. I began to plead, and mired in litigation. Son dropped out the Institute and said that he decided to become a rock musician. I often have found his drugs. Daughter, with the participation of my wife to hide, but I found out that she had gone through an abortion.

Every day required hard decisions. I was very tired. I spent the night at the office, did not see my family. I slept for 3 hours. A day was a fiesta, when I could sleep for 5 hours. I came home only for the weekends. Where was also busy by family and household chores. I shuttled all day, solving questions. Jams were my third house. Brash young "rider" on a white toned "Audi A2", was trying without turn signals, to steer from the highway, and hit me in the door. The police officer despite the fact that my innocence is obvious, demanded a bribe to write everything as it is necessary. As "it is necessary"? I went to the insurance, and there are so many cars that park quite simply nowhere. I went there two more times with the same result. And I spat on it.

I was trying to develop a parallel business, but failed. Also, I discovered that I was ill. Not deadly, but it had to deal with. But I could not quit my work, and start treatment. I mean, I could not begin cure, and the disease has progressed.

I dipped my head under the faucet with cold water every half an hour in the office at night, to cheer up, and force myself to continue to work. To send offers. To pull suppliers, buyers. To check contracts. To monitor cash flow, to consider gains and losses, to seek investors. To search, where I can save. And I added the lines of the to do list with every new e-mail.

I was very, very tired. I was tired every day and made this decisions. Each new day did not diminishe, but rather increased my list. It would go on forever. I wanted to quit. My soul was in turmoil. I wished peace. I wanted to see the list, consisting, for example, of the five points. That I would, whistling, solve, and crossed out. I wanted to have dinner tonight with my family, rather than order a pizza in office. I wanted to watch TV at home on the couch with the newspaper in the evening. And that my son came to me, and asked to help with the lessons. I wanted to go with wife in the movie, like ordinary people. Buy soda and nachos. And to scrunch in the hall. And then in the dark to move to the parking, shivering from the cold, and to discuss the picture. Basically, to criticize.

I wanted to make it simple. But I have too much to myself shouldered. And the only way out seemed to be… in fact, the full runaway from life.

Yes, I realize that life is a gift. And while you live, there are opportunities. And you always have time to die. And that there are terminally ill people. Or the disabled. They would have given a lot to live for one of my day, healthy and nutritious. Albeit so busy.

I understood that, but I am what I am. It was for me like a ray of light in the darkness. I have a long road to go. Furthermore, my family would have got rid of my debts after my death. A real estate and both cars is registred to my wife.

I told the family that need to urgently leave for a month to work in the north. I programmed delayed sms-message to my friends, which told that I actually had in mind. And asked to help my family if they can. Apologized.

I got out of the safe carabine. Went by taxi to the nearest dense forest. Tried to delve into it and get into the thicket. There, put a barrel to my chin. First realized at the moment that I was free. No longer be added to do list. All my enemies and creditors can kiss me on my big white ass. I almost did not fear, almost resigned, and almost smiled. I tried not to think about the family. I was very, celestially tired.

I pulled the trigger.


Assistant of Peter, who interviewed me, boring nodded. Working day has not exceeded even a half, but the crowd grew.

- All you have told, is a mere trifle compared with the present human problems and suffering, - he muttered, filling out a form #12 and strongly pushing the pencil. - However, even they do not deserve leniency. Suicide is a grave sin in any world, any religion. The gates to paradise for you are closed. And your fate in Purgatory is in the Court`s hands. Here's a brochure on the rules of your stay.

Assistant of Peter stretched pretty hefty booklet.

- Oh, it is in my native language, - I smiled.

- It is the language of reflections and images. There is no language here, dear. If you have no more questions, please, leave. At the exit you must got a stamps here and here. The Court will be held next week. Now you have to go over here, - he pointed to the place on the map of Purgatory, - register and get a registration card. They work until 15.00, so hurry. Then go into Public Defenders Service, and hire a lawyer. The service works with people like you who have nothing for their soul. Queue lasted for two days, so I recommend to take place during the night…

- "Week", "night", "15.00" is also the concept of time of the reflections and images? - I was a little discouraged by the situation and the reception, but continued to joke mechanically.

- Then you need to register and get a room in the House of a Temporary Shelter for the souls of suiciders, - Peter`s assistant did not let to confuse himself, continuing to drive his nail on the map. - Report no later than Thursday in the Oversight Services for the Lost, who is your lawyer, and where you left off. And do not forget to come to the Court, otherwise you will be very sorry. Your situation may even be worse off than now. NEXT!

I came out of the Migration Office of Purgatory, slightly discouraged. Misunderstanding smile has not faded from my, easy ruined by the shot, face. In the first moment after the shot, I found myself wandering in the tunnel in the direction of a bright spot. The way it is described in the esoteric literature. I perked up. On the way to the spot, I heard and felt in the front and rear of me the others ... other souls, steps, whisper. When I arrived at the oval of light, it was quite a large room full of souls and queues. At the entrance was located a machine that gave out coupons. I clicked on the screen to the "suicide" icon, and got ticket number "A-376568976." Perched on the chair, and looked at the screen with a waiting list. The idea was that all this was strange, considering where I was. On the other hand: where am I? And how should it be? Furthermore, I was sure, that everything is right. It was like a mental effect.

The hall was an "open space' office. On a raised platform, in a glass room was visible profile of St. Peter. He tackled difficult issues and monitored employees and situation. From time to time some of the souls began to scandal and demanded a "manager." They were sent ahead to Peter. His assistants цуку engaged in the main routine and receiving visitors.

Only on the second day it was my turn.. Without a mobile phone, it appears, to while away the time is very boring. No one had spoken to no one, and such a desire have not occurred. Souls have digested the new situation and environment. Someone have been staring blankly ahead. Someone have been vaguely smiling. Someone`s faces have shown suffers.

So now I'm standing on the outside of the Migration Office. A new trial is expecting for me. And my ghostly hands clenched the new to do list.

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