Danny Osipenko - Three quarters dead

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A motivational novel by a young author Danny Osipenko «Tree quarters dead» without movement, life is only a lethargy dream.

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Three quarters dead

Danny Osipenko

© Danny Osipenko, 2022

ISBN 978-5-0056-1800-9

Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero

Chapter 1.

«At the sight of a dream – regain consciousness»

– What did you do? – Lyudmila Olegovna cried out, having run up to me. I greedy involved air, without understanding as I could make all this.

On shout of my trustee, the people which crowded around the playground ran together. In several minutes before, I sat on a bench in the yard, and read the book. I had only two lines to the following chapter when Romka moving back back, noticing nothing around, tried to catch the ball flying on the other side of the platform. He flew on me, without having calculated throw force, and would fall, having hit against the next iron crossbeam yellow a swing. I involuntarily gasped having picked up the boy. At this moment I could not neither move, nor unclench the hands in which five-year-old Romka with widely opened eyes, coiled as snakes, trying to be released. But suddenly it sharply ceased to move, and failed all the little body on me, having fallen asleep instantly.

For these seconds seeming eternity on all my body ran pleasant heat. It was everywhere, filling me as an empty vessel by vivifying force. Invisible threads from a small body to mine, light shine vibrated without making a sound. I sharply rose and looked at the boy who is still immobilized with densely closed eyes at myself on hands.

– Oh, My God Romka! – exclaimed is frightened I and lowered it near itself on the earth. Romkino the face during a moment from ash-gray became pink. The thorax began to rise, to fall. As if all burden of the world left me. Having with relief exhaled I was removed from the boy on several centimeters.

– What is with it? – everything also loudly and with emotion was cried out by Lyudmila Olegovna when she fell on knees near the son. – Frame, sonny are you ok? And? You are safe? – She helplessly felt it, but it still lay and did not move. – Why are you keeping silent? – In the opinion of the woman tears began to shine.

I sat having pressed knees to a breast and told nothing, only looked at Romka.

– Regain consciousness my boy. The sonny mom here, I am near. – The trustee shed bitter tears. – Open eyes darling. Get up… – it slightly shook Romka for shoulders, but he did not regain consciousness. – Maria, what you with it made? – I not knowingly looked with an amazed look at Lyudmila Olegovna. Her hand gently and carefully pressed the son’s head to a breast, and gray eyes on a pale face with despair watched me. The question as a knife cut me because in soul I understood the fault in all this situation. I wanted to know what after all happens to it. In hope to solve this secret or to help somehow I gave a hand, but the trustee at once hit it and more strong pressed the son to herself. – Do not touch. – Lyudmila Olegovna hissed and pierced with a fleer. – All this you! I know, I saw. – In gray eyes the inspiration flew and having squeezed spitefully lips exhaling air she exactingly began to chatter. – Return me my son, the witch! Return, return…

– The ambulance will be in minutes five. – Someone from crowd reported of the gathered gapers. I did not know who, to me was all the same. At this moment I attentively looked at the trustee analyzing her words. What did she want to tell these? How can I return it? I did not want to do it harm! Only caught. Tears rushed from my eyes that warped white as snow Lyudmila Olegovna’s face even stronger.

– What you roar!? – It began with accusatory tone. – Your tears are not necessary to us. She took in head to roar. – I a hand brushed away the run tears and took eyes aside the audience. – And all your mother! – The trustee barked. It was a last straw. More I could not suffer it.

– My mother? And here it? – My brown eyes met gray.

– Luda calm down. You do not see perhaps as the girl is frightened. – Not it is clear from where the voice of Vladimir Aleksandrovich, my trustee reached. I raised the head and saw near myself the low, forty-year-old man. Just returned from work, tired and now also broken by what was seen. The trustee sat down near the wife took a romkina a hand and checked pulse. People muttered something around, Lyudmila Olegovna being shaken here and there quietly groaned whether from pain, whether with despair. The trustee having checked a condition of the son, with relief ran the right hand over the person, and looked at me. – Everything is good. Everything will be OK. – He murmured barely audible. So as if calming all, including me.

– You do not say so!? – Having frightened me his wife cried out. – You what forgot as it are?

– Calm down Luda. – Wearily Vladimir Aleksandrovich answered. The trustee looked at the husband as the madman. Now her face reddened from rage and an eye widely revealed. But suddenly Romka moved and opened eyes. He seemed regained consciousness from a deep sleep in unclear to it the place surrounded with strangers. Here his eyes met eyes of mother and quietly whispered:

– Mom…

Chapter 2

Really?

After Romka regained consciousness, everything at once rose on the places. There arrived the ambulance, and gapers dispersed who – where. Lyudmila Olegovna without letting out the son, got into the ambulance car.

– Go home, Masha. – Vladimir Aleksandrovich not strongly told having squeezed my shoulder, kind of encouraging, and unnaturally smiled. Having shaken the head and not raising eyes, I walked to an entrance of my present house in which I lived two years with the trustees. In general, they to me had the uncle and the aunt on the fatherly line. Vladimir Aleksandrovich and my father were brothers, the family was big, other relatives parted who – where. The only uncle who agreed after the death of my parents to take away me to himself. All history I did not know, only that there was a promise from Vladimir Aleksandrovich to take care of me if that suddenly happens. He told me about it, at a funeral of my mom. Then a lot of things lost for me sense, and a lot of things got more accurate outlines. In then fifteen years, me the thought of those things began to sicken that surrounded me for those years that my parents were alive. Both in thoughts, and in actions the carelessness left, I became more rare to smile, speak on trifles, and more often looked for loneliness. Lyudmila Olegovna from first minute apprehended me in «bayonets», and took great pain to avoid communication with me. Being limited to only couple of phrases, during a breakfast or a dinner. Romka, feeling a spirit of the mother, shkodnichat and was capricious, especially when I sat with it after a garden while the uncle with the aunt were on the robot. For these two years, I had to pomotat fairly and myself nerves, and to the trustees.

Outside there was a June. There was the fifth hour, but the sun still warmed. Near an entrance there was a grandmother living in the house opposite near her wagging a tail the rate of Peak which, Romka with other children liked to tease sat. The dog panted and her brown and red wool glinted in the sun. I smiled to them to two, and came into an entrance. Soft light got through the dirty and splashed window, on the landing. Rising by the third floor, concerning a handrail, passing by the dusty and painted walls – I remembered last hour. Everything seemed a dream, and nothing really happened. Having touched the shoulder which hit against a crossbeam a swing, I in surprise stood. It was as it should be: neither burned, nor was ill. The unpleasant chill passed on a back, and the contemptuous, sure words of the trustee were started turning an echo in my head.

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