Um Vykhodit

Jitter Room

Walls.

Walls all around.

Grey walls, oppressing me.

"Pavel!"

"Pavel, get up 'suka!"

Damn watch won't shut up.

Getting up is hard, arms like soggy pincushions, bed an unforgiving slab of concrete.

Wanted to give up halfway through, damn walls.

"Speshite mudak!"

Feel my watch dragging me somewhere beyond these walls.

Bathroom, looked in the mirror, face seemed messed up.

It was.  Cut on my lip, brow was bleeding, at least I am still me.

Me.

Pavel Yakovlev, name popped up a lot.  Checked my pockets for clarity, sanity for my sakes.

Found a wallet.

Smug faced 'khu i. Found something else on my arm.

Veins all messed up, probably...

Tattooed on the flesh, a reminder, simple.

'Never Forget'

Can't forget, can't remember either. Have to.

"This way!"

Off I go again, into the room. Apartment room, dusty, and frozen in time.

In here today is yesterday.

"Look mudak, davai davai!"

Checked everything, through the dust, till I found something.

Old and faint, something to yearn for.

A window which let in light only for it to be smothered in the dust.

As I stepped to it I felt a warmth I hadn't felt in a while.

Saw something I missed, heard a loving tune.

The Kremlin looked beautiful in the dying orange light of the sun.

The source...white dress. Face hidden in the light. It was looking back at me.

Felt my knees buckle, accidentally breathed in the plume of dust.  Coughed my lungs out.

My mind was filled in the haze, my senses felt clearer though.  Wish they weren't.

Wasn't the same. Something was wrong. Felt like a dog hiding from the storm.

I was no longer in that room. I was, in Hell.

The walls a cage, their grey hue now crimson. Full of malice.

The memories' tune became distorted, hard to remember with all this white noise.

ZATK' NIS, ZATK' NIS 'SUKA!

Fury ran through these veins, found myself throwing a vace, didn't care.

Heard the door close, I'd show him. Pavel Yakovlev is no ravenous dog to cage up!

I felt my arms drag my body, felt them yearning to give up.

If they knew what was best for them they would not. Did not. Was there, Hell's Gate.

Struggling against these memories trapped in the dust I clawed my way out of hell.

Like the great Dante himself I found myself out of hell. Only.

These grey walls, blyad'! Damn these grey walls.

They formed a hallway with no clear beginning or end. Timelines passed through here.

Timelines...ended here. Chocked in the dust, lost in the fog.

Getting up I started my search again, only to find myself following a trail of morphine needles.

A trail that lead to mistakes, a door locked up, and rusting.

"Come on Pavel, all is fine, she won't even notice."

"You won't feel a thing, you'll be too numb too."

I-I hate being numb. I want to feel, again. I want to know the warmth of the sun.

This damn watch! Damn it to Hell!  It only serves as a reminder! A reminder...to never forget.

...

I heard another door open, the sounds of a lively city. Saw a man, standing on the sidewalk.

He was looking at me with disdain, with a solemn, gloom filled gaze.

His face though...hidden slightly by the shadow of his hood was clear to me. It was...me.

My ragged face, judging me. My hallow eyes looking outwards to the empty life it left behind.

But...despite the hate I felt something. I felt a chance. A chance to make it up...to apologize.

I walked forth...crossing the street I made my way to somewhere.

Somewhere I could not forget...but could not remember. With nothing but my watch and a rose.

'Never Forget'

'But Do Not Remember'

I'm trying....