- Why?

- Does it affect you stress, or are you really a fool? Or pretend to be?

Sasha turned away.

“Maybe I'm a fool,” she said. - But I do not pretend. I understand what you are saying, but ... I do not believe it. I still can not believe that I am. See, I ... I never thought of myself that way.

- What is there to believe? Did you see yourself in the mirror? - smiled Flutist. - Understand: sooner or later, children grow out of diapers. One yours, I apologize, the whole city is buffered in a belt, and there is still room for the suburb. For many, this is already enough ... So, Alexander ...

Flutist was silent.

It was evident that he wanted to say something else, but hesitated whether it was worth saying that. Sasha, too, was silent, red to the roots of her hair.

- Here ... And the fact that the Mud with Burdach ... Never mind. You wanted the best. Maiden honor - small loss. Without it, it will be more convenient when ... Well, in general, I became loose, - Flutist stood up. - Eat, sleep and meet dad. Well...

Sasha got up too.

They stood against each other - for the first time so close, almost nose to nose.

“Thank you,” she said.

- To health.

Sasha reached out to him - with a barely noticeable movement of the body, rather than a glance or breath, - but the Flutist noticed and stopped her, taking her shoulders:

- Alexandra! Do not. You ... you think I'm not like that? We are all like that. I ... you know how much I did the same, or almost? ... I am exactly the same ... It is you who are not the same. You do not see yourself from the side.

Sasha suddenly realized that he smelled of alcohol. But for some reason it did not cause her disgust.

—... I was walking down the street, I saw you, and it struck me, do you understand? Please stay like this, do not spoil yourself. I know what you want right now, but ... don't. You're not like that, you can't be like that I'm leaving now, and you will never see me again. Never, you hear, Alexandra? ..

He shook her shoulders. Then suddenly stopped.

Sasha looked at him ... and suddenly stretched towards him and kissed her, childishly stretching her lips with a straw.

Flutist twitched, as from the current. Then frantically grabbed her ...

... A wild, mad kiss grew like a snowball: they bite, as if they wanted to devour each other’s faces, and Flutist’s hands kneaded Sashkin’s body under rags stretched somehow. Then he pulled off her hips hips and pants, soiled with blood, and put his hand Sasha between his legs.

Sashkin's eyes widened like a doll: Flute-player eagerly kissed her, at the same time putting on his hand, tucked under the whole crotch, from the pubis to the anus. He moved his hand, and stunned Sasha went to her with all her squishy gut, and he continued to kiss her, crushing with his tongue all the barriers in his burnt mouth.

Sashkin moan soon turned into a scream, and Flute-player kissed, kissed, kissed her, while she beat on his hand. In her body remained many, many unsatisfied desires, and it still did not want to burn out in her ...

... she woke up on the floor.

Below, everything hurt, as before menstruation. There was no flutist in the house.

***

Thus began the new Sashkin life.

She was monstrous, this life. And she absolutely did not look like the old one.

The former was “just like that”: Sasha lived as she was, and was happy about how she got it. New was the Life of His Name. Only He gave her value, only the desire to find Him and meet Him supported Sasha afloat.Everything else did not make sense.

She didn't even know his name. About Flutiste there were fearful mentions on the net, and none of them followed. She could not openly ask her father, for she kept her promise as much as she could. True, they were getting smaller, and Dad was already asking her why she was so interested in Flutist.

- Well, he pulled you out of prison, - said Sasha. “Probably not like all of them.” Noble.

- Where did you read this word? Do Dostoevsky? - crooked dad. - I will tell you frankly: I don’t know why he decided to help me, but ... if he is different than others, uh, the authorities of our city, it’s only because he has more dibs. And, accordingly, on a personal account, more meanness, with which he earned them.

- Why the meanness? - Sasha did not let up. - What, is it not possible to earn money honestly? You also earn money - so what's your meanness? ..

But father twisted lips and translated the topic.

All his acquaintances (there were others besides blessing with Burdach), in response to the cautious, as Nastya believed, the questions were suddenly made dumb and stupid. Only one of them, Vitaly Innokentievich Poludumov, after a drunken tongue was unleashed, and he intimately put Sasha on the shoulders (for the sake of the cause, she decided to suffer), told her that Flutist is the most nitty and the bitch in the whole town.

In front of Sasha, who was stunned by the fumes, a panorama of Flutist’s meanness and crimes unfolded, the main of which was that he was a Jew. This gave the story a well-known price, but in Sasha it was still a bad worm.

When trying to find out the name and address of Flutista, Poludumov was sober and joked cumbersomely. Everything was down the drain.

Sasha was bad as ever. On the same day, the most terrible and most beautiful events in her life occurred to her, and she could not tell anyone, anyone. She spat on studies, in her appearance and in general on everything in the world. She spent hours wandering around the city, soaking up under the October rains, and Hamila to boyfriends who stuck to her everywhere, even in stuffed minibuses. She began to smoke and, although she did not like it terribly, she persistently taught herself to smoke, gloatingly thinking about how to spoil herself.

One day, when Sashka saw a big hole on a kolgotin and caught herself thinking, “yes, and so it will come down” - she suddenly understood:

SO MORE NOT

Throwing out the started pack, she arranged a revision of all her belongings, mixed in a vinaigrette. Depression came to an end: it was necessary not to suffer, but to act.

A couple of days later she had a plan ready.

It was a crazy plan, and Sasha was creepy, but she tried not to dwell on it, so as not to change her mind.

As often happens with crazy plans, it worked. And not somehow, but also insane.

***

It was as simple as an orange: Sashka was on the loose side and grounded on Gruzdishchev and said:

- Hello. Flutist wants to see you. Immediately.

Burdenko was right there. She and Gruzdem stared at Sasha so much that all her determination suddenly spread over her body like jelly.

- what are the guests! - Grud sang sweetly and falsely. - The girl again desired sensual pleasures?

“It won't work,” Sasha said. Despair added her arrogance.

- What will not work, my joy?

- Noodles on the ears to hang. My job is to say, and you can hang around here and carry your bullshit if you want problems.

Grudge exchanged glances with Burdach.

- What did he not call? What sent you?

- The situation is such - said Sasha randomly.

It can be seen that her “randomly” hit some unknown target: gangsters (it was them, what could be there) - the gangsters looked at each other again, and Burdach nodded:

- I see. And we want to go there, bitch. Let's fuck him, huh?

- Wait. Where is he? Still in the office? - asked Gruzd at Sasha.

- And then where, - she smiled.

- And how is it?

- It's quiet for now.

Her shots were blindly hit by some invisible targets. Muddy exchanged glances with Burdach again and sighed:

- Why did you send something?

“Time is passing,” Sasha said. - Hint understood?

And again she hit somewhere without aiming. The gangsters got up.

- And what does he want? - asked Burdach.

“You know yourself what you want, asshole,” said Gruzd instead of Sasha.

They went to the cars.

“Sit in this one,” Mawdy told her with hatred. She sat between two ambalov, the bandits dived into another car - and they drove off.

In Sasha’s chest, they tapped out ... Read more →