Iggy Joutsen – Люби Меня До Смерти/Love Me To Death (страница 1)
Iggy Joutsen
Люби Меня До Смерти/Love Me To Death
I dedicate this work to my dear friend Nick Trapp (Great Britain), and my first reader, and to my Lithuanian friends, Goda Juškėnienė and Janina Leskinien (Janina Lesnickiene) who inspired my love for the country where this story takes place.
1. Special
When people keep saying all the time since your childhood that you are special, you unconsciously begin to believe it. Such remarks are especially characteristic of loving parents who tell their beloved offspring. Of course, one’s own child will always be unique. No wonder they say that love is blind.
As for me, everything was “even worse.” I was considered special even when I did not do anything outstanding. I had been praised, cherished, and idolized since the moment I was born into this world. Day and night, I heard words of support and approval.
If something did not work out or went out of hand, they kept repeating to me: “You can do it, just give it a try. You’re smart and resourceful, and you’ll always find a way.”
I was so inspired by that kind of "super-support" from my parents, who really made me believe that everything was under control. Of course, later life taught “my Majesty” many instructive lessons. I realized that no one needed me in the world; that most people did not care about me, and I was not special at all, but quite an ordinary person with my own failings.
Who would have thought that many years later, when I had long ago come to terms with the essence of an ordinary person, an unexpected ability woke up in me?
I always knew that there existed a secret in our family that was passed down from parents to children, from generation to generation. Moreover, I was told that one day, there would come a time when I would become its keeper, and then I would pass on the acquired knowledge to my own child.
I was devoured by curiosity, but they said, "Everything in good time." Life went on as usual, but the secret was never revealed to me. "Probably they lied to me. There is no 'family secret' at all," I thought, until I completely forgot about it. The mystery unfolded by itself one rainy June evening.
As always, on Friday, my friends and I got together to play Mafia in one of the coffeshop in Kaunas. I really liked this game because of its fun and unpredictability. In it, as in life, you never know who is hiding behind the mask of indifference.
My friends were quite ordinary people, all with college degrees and decent jobs. It is nice to spend time with them and talk on a variety of subjects, but this is not about that – it’s about the game.
Everything was going smoothly, fun, and at ease. We were laughing a lot, drinking alcohol, and exchanging jokes, sometimes obscene ones. Suddenly, after another joke, I accidentally showed my card and did not even notice it, which resulted in my merciless “murder.”
Of course, I considered what happened to be an injustice and got terribly upset. I got so angry that, jumping up from the table, I exclaimed, "May thunder strike someone on the head!"
I did not know why I shouted out this particular phrase, which had no meaning, but immediately after that, thunder really struck – and with such noise that glass flew out of windows all over the neighborhood, and the lights instantly went out. Frightened shouts were heard from everywhere, and when, sometime later, the power came back on, we were shocked by the scene before our very eyes.
In the corner at the entrance to the coffeeshop, a man was lying with a smashed skull, from which a grayish liquid was flowing out, as if someone had hit him hard on the head with a heavy object.
2. Ema
A few days later, I was walking down the street, immersed in my thoughts, and did not notice anyone or anything around. Something told me that the incident in the coffeeshop was not an accident or a coincidence, as it might seem at first glance. It was all my fault, although it did not look like that at all.
Despite my unstable inner state, I felt fine physically. Some unknown force was spreading through my body like a burning stream. I felt it with every cell of my being. The effect of that force did not bring a relaxing sensation, but, on the contrary, drove me to an even more anxious feeling.
My mental turmoil did not give me peace. I felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage and did not know what to do or how to accept the new "essence” withinmy new inner "appearance." There was no doubt that I had been changing. We always accept any changes in ourselves last of all: only after everyone who knows us recognizes them. My friends realized it, and it took them only a moment.