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A daughter or a drug???

A daughter or a drug???

Author:   Renat Gubaidullin

Country:   Russia

Date of addition: 18.01.2012


I woke up because I have heard the moan of child in the neighboring room. Shit! She left her at home. The hair rose on my body; I cannot understand anything and go to the kitchen. There is letter on the table: “Nastya has toothache, please, bring her to the dentist, and do not live her alone”. However, it was not my plan and I started to rage at wife, at child. In the same time, Nastya started to cry; I took phone and called to the neighboring house, where I, for about two month have boiled desomorphine, and made arrangement. Everything is all right I can heal, and I do not wish anything more. All the rest is at the second plan. Than I said daughter that she should shut up, switched on the TVset with cartoons, brought to her many toys and closed the door. Okay!!! I shall run, if I am late I can lose my dose. This thought beats hardly than whip. After finishing my own business, I will return home. At some time, I have missed a beat, what am I doing, this is my child; simultaneously I came into the entrance. There is fear inside me, if something has happened, than I came into  home, found child, everything seemed all right. Phone is calling, I picked up the phone, and wife asked me why we were still at home, not in the hospital with Nastena? I lied that we were ready to go; than I threw phone, cussed and freaked out. They boil it and they will take off. My thought flow rapidly, how can I have time for dentist and to take off. I made a decision, I immediately dressed my daughter, of course forgot to feed her, to give milk to her, because I have no any time; I need to be fast otherwise I can loose my portion.  I’m running, holding daughter in my arms, waiting for a bus. My baby is crying and repeating me: “Daddy, daddy, it hurts”. At some time I have felt the sentiment of pity, even my heart was shrunk, but everything became okay when I saw bus. Now we in the hospital, the line aggravates. In my head only one thought about my dose, I feel that time is limited and start to be nervous more and more. Sometimes, Nastya starts to cry and suffer from pain; and seeing her tears something inside my sole whispered me: “To take pity, this is your baby, she is sick”. Suddenly I have looked to the mirror and saw the scruffy man with hollowed wild eyes, dirty jacket and overworn home trousers, holding in his arms beautifully dressed tearful child. It is terrible to look at this man and I remove my eyes, look around. I think that it is obnoxiously to all people to look at me, I catch their eyes with contempt.  It is our turn, we shall go next; I try to appease my daughter, but in this moment, I feel the phone vibration in my pocket. I answer phone and hear that, if I not be there in 15 minutes I lose my dose. I look at the tearful eyes of daughter, the cabinet door and at the window toward that place, where the boiling process is in the final stage. I hesitate several minutes, I make my choice, and now I’m near the entrance to the brothel. I’m out of breath, coming into the flat; baby is crying, I feel the strong smell of acid, which affronts the eyes, it is impossible to breath; I put on my knees, seeking salvation on the floor. Than I give Nastya to decayed drugster, who keeps syringe with exposed needle in mouth. I insert solution into my vein and……I’m in the heaven!!! I feel nothing and understand that something is wrong. I am panicking, blasting everything and everybody, dress Nastya; and than I run to wife’s work, give baby to her and return back to boil, to boil!


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