The HEART
Copyright 2015 George Kavsekhornak
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter One
I slept very well. I open my eyes. Everything is unfamiliar to me here! Where am I? The bed is very soft, crisp white linen. The Sun looks out the window and greets me with its rays. So good! But where am I? And here's another problem – I forgot my name. Who am I? Maybe my name is Svetlana. Yes, a beautiful name. I am Svetlana!
This is a kind of room, but why don't I recognize it? This is a living room, so I'm in the apartment, but whose is it? How did I get here? And what am I doing here? I slept. Alone? Judging by the size of the bed, maybe not. It makes me happy or upset? Rather pleased. Scares? No, it's very unlikely.
In another room, there are voices – man and child... "Son, have you time for breakfast?" The male voice asked, sounds pretty nice. "Yes, Dad, you have to wake up mom." A boy, perhaps, is fourteen years old. He has been the adult already. But who are they? Am I a mom? Mama Sveta (TN: is a short name of Svetlana) – it sounds! But fourteen years! Why do I remember nothing? Some pain is on the left.
"Sveta, good morning. Get up, I shall make a breakfast. Slava has been late already. And I'm in a hurry to work." The man tells. So, I guess right my name, it means not everything is lost. My son is Vyacheslav (TN: is a full name of Slava). It's something.
"Good morning, dear!" I hope my tone doesn't give out me.
"'Dear'? Are you sure? What happen with you? Yesterday I was only Victor Petrovich for you. Everything is ok?"
"Excuse me; I don't remember what was happening yesterday, Victor."
"This is very comfortable for you as usual. Partial amnesia saves families!"
"I don't understand what are you talking about?"
Victor's mobile phone is ringing. He answers, listens to a couple of seconds.
"Begin!" He almost screams by commanding voice and hangs up the phone.
A teenager comes into the room. Yes, indeed, he is fourteen or is he fifteen already? I don't remember.
"Enough already swear! You start at morning. Wait for a while until I go to the college."
"Good morning, son."
"'Son'? Yesterday I was Vyacheslav Victorovich (TN: is a patronymic name of Victor, in Russian people use the name with patronymic to show respect between little-known people or irony, sarcasm sometimes if interlocutors are well known) for you? Mom, did you get up of bed on the right side?"
Why is it pricks on the left? It hurts me!
"What are you doing?" The father yells at his son. "Are you crazy?" Or is it just my imagination?
"Please, the launch is served" Victor invites.
I have found a toilet and a bathroom without help. It calms me. It would be inconvenient to show myself not knowing the own house. And… the husband and the son do I remember them? And what bad thing have I done? They hate me apparently. About love speeches are not present precisely. Better I shall clean my teeth, to not entangle a brush. They seem to me friends, even the family. Do I love them? Ok, my teeth are clean. It's pleasant, that I recognize myself in a mirror without doubts. I'm still quite attractive! I need to choose a dress, have to hurry, or the family will be angry again. Oh! Yes, I have a good taste. If you don't blow your own horn, no one will do it for you. I'm going to put on this dress color of a marine wave. It reminds me of a hospital gown. Yes, but I like this color.
In the kitchen the son with the father sits already.
"Bon appetite!" I find my voice no less enjoyable.
There is no answer. Everyone has already been chewed. I sit down at the table. We have scrambled eggs with tomato and basil. And what did I expect? Mushroom julienne and Greek salad? I will not be hard to please but hungers no joke.
"Will you stay at home today?" The husband asks. Husband? Beloved husband?
"I don't know; maybe take a walk to the shops or just stroll." I'm calm enough, hopefully.
"Yes, go with... (TN: 'take a walk ' has two meanings in Russian: to stroll and to courage or go with) I'll be late too." I like the voice of Victor, Victor Petrovich for some reason.
"As usual?" Ease lightness and naturalness in the voice is important.
"What does it mean usual?" I upset him, I think.
"I'm running away, tired of listening to your swearing." The son is so adult, how could I remember everything? I'm not bad.
"Goodbye. Study well. Will kiss me?" My eyes jump from the son to the husband. Again did I say something wrong?
Vyacheslav approaches me and touches my forehead by lips. Why is so dry kissing?
"Bye, mother."
Why is the left so sore? The heart?
"Listen, we need to continue our conversation. I understand everything and not insist on anything. All share in half, the son will stay with me." I just feel like Victor hit my head. Not enough to have the head will begin to pain.
"Why does he stay with you?" I don't recognize my indignant voice, this is a squeak already. Why do I do so?
"Defibrillator!" Its Victor's unflappable voice.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I don't understand.
"Again, you begin! We dot all the 'i's. We will discuss it at the evening again. I run away. Farewell!" Now I don't like the voice of Victor Petrovich. Let him go.
A door slam is not necessary! So even twice! My body is curved because of it! Scrambled eggs weren't tasty. No, it isn't mine at all! Someone else's! Emptiness. What are they missing? It's aching heart. I can't! I don't want so! I will go to the bedroom and will lie down, would cry. My heart jumps out of my chest. What's wrong with me? I will not cry! I'm strong! The bed is very soft, crisp white linen. Again a dream comes to me. So good!