Simple Truths of Life

Having run into the kitchen, I saw that my mother was calmly washing the dishes. She saw nothing and nobody.

Upon returning to my friend and his grandmother, I began to actively try to tell them about what I saw a minute ago. This was the first time that I had encountered skepticism in my life. I learned back then that people are not only inclined not to believe in what they have never seen themselves, moreover, they can ridicule those who begin to talk about what is not yet a universally recognized fact.

Interestingly enough, that childhood friend had previously talked about how he saw something like a ghost that jumped over the fence of an abandoned house, standing across from mine. Now, when I am writing this book, I understand that I am myself skeptical of his story. In addition, as you will understand later, fences are not an obstacle to real souls of the dead.

Nevertheless, thanks to that unusual experience with a bright yellow figure, I learned that there is more to this world than is customary to think. I thought for a very long time that it was a ghost. Looking ahead, I will say that later I found out that that figure simply could not have been it. But first things first.

I think it was the same summer when I entered the Little House to see my drunk father beat my mother. Being a five-year-old child, I did not know what to do. I simply could not do anything. My two elderly great-aunts, Liza and Klava, were also not able to help my mother in any way. I was very worried and cried, thinking that I could lose my mom.

I do not remember exactly how much time had passed when I heard my village friends calling for me to go outside. In tears, I quickly jumped out onto the porch to say that I could not go out. I remember very well how one of my friends laughed then at my appearance. I understand that she did not know what was the cause of my tears, but, as you will learn later, even in this situation she made a mistake by allowing herself to laugh at a person in trouble. Nevertheless, this was yet another instance when someone laughed at me.

Fortunately, my father soon stopped beating my mother. She was alive, and we even managed to walk together to Lakibrovo, the neighboring village where my aunt Zina used to live. I called her myself when we were already at the fence of her house.

After some time, we gathered our courage and the three of us went back to Malye Gorki.

Then I only remember how on the outskirts of our village Zina gave me Kinder Surprise before going back to Lakibrovo.

Apart from the memory of the grim incident of that day, everything else seemed exactly the same as it was before…

My mother and I slept that night in the Big House, along with the aunts. When in the morning dad entered the room of the house, he was very surprised to see my mother with a huge bruise under her eye. He did not remember anything regarding the events of the last day and papa was somewhat stunned when he was told everything.

After that day, I promised myself that I would never drink vodka.

I do not remember exactly how much time had passed when I, A, and, if I remember correctly, Denis, were outside near a neighboring house. I could not understand for a long time why A laughed whenever I said something. From my point of view, nothing was happening that could amuse him so much. Then for some reason he began to specifically repeat the syllable of the words that I spoke…

This is how I realized that the incident with my drunken father had an effect on my speech, and I became a stutterer… But I still did not know then the seriousness of the situation, and what it would lead to.

I will say right away that my father was a pretty kind and softhearted person when he was not drunk. Drinking used to have a much worse effect on him than on many other people. From a calm person he turned into a very loud and mobile. Sometimes he did things that he could never have done if he was sober. But, fortunately, he never brawled again like on that fateful day. It also took him a very long time to recover from drinking bouts. I am glad that one day he did not drink on my birthday at my request. Alas, despite my mother’s and mine admonitions against drinking, he still could not overcome this addiction, which eventually brought him to the grave.

The last momentous event of my childhood occurred when I was about six years old. I cannot describe everything in detail, so as not to ruin the life of other people. I can only say that after meeting that guy who was about my age, we often spent time together outside and became friends.

I do not remember exactly how, but it all led to the fact that he taught me to masturbate. It was mutual masturbation, and I do not think that I touched myself back then – only he did. I did not understand then what we were doing and why. I was feeling neither disgusted nor good. It was just a new life experience, about the consequences of which I could not know.

I think a year has passed when my friend wanted to try oral sex with me. I did not like this idea at all, and I constantly refused his requests. He said that he and his other friend, whom I never knew personally, did this and there is nothing wrong with that. But I continued to feel deep inside of me that this was not something that I would like to do.

It took some time, a year or two, before I finally agreed to have oral sex, which we performed on one another. Fortunately, we did not try any other sexual penetrations.

This went on for several years. There was a time when our friend caught us. She immediately turned around and left. Once she used her knowledge so that we would stop pestering her – otherwise everyone would have known. I think that if other friends had found out, it would have been a disaster for me at that time, but now many years later I can almost calmly write about my experience in this book, which many people of different worldviews and cultures may read.