Rat Hole

. Smoke filled her lungs. A moment of relief as she slowly released the gray stream. A controlled exhalation and a wonderful feeling of heaviness throughout her body. She leaned against the wall. What day was it? She had no idea. Ever since she arrived in this place, time seemed to have stopped. Only now did something move. She began to see things that hadn't existed in her previous life. What she saw terrified her. She almost went back. What stopped her was that she had nowhere to go. Most people return home, but she didn't have a home. She didn't even have a mother... The woman she grew up with had asked to be called that. But it was impossible that her young, supple body, her will to live, came from a woman who didn't take care of herself at all, constantly reeked of fish, and had lived her entire life on hypocritical, television romances. How could anyone love such a world? A sick father. A living corpse. Her mother was so busy that she'd long forgotten how to love. This wasn't her life. She wanted to find her place, on this earth. She had to start somewhere. That's why she was in this dark place now, where dampness painted lunar landscapes, on the scuffed walls, where naked cables protruded from gutted ceilings, blind windows punished for giving off heat now smiling at her. She stood up and walked to the dark spot in the middle of the room. She'd once read about black holes in space. If she took one more step now, she'd cease to exist. A gust of rotten air brushed her face. She spread her hands. Like Christ. They'd once been friends. But that was so long ago. Christ was always there, yet still not with her. She couldn't stand it. His constant miracles. His kindness. He gave completely freely. She couldn't. She tried, but as hard as she could... She'd never equal him. So she started giving too, completely freely, but then she came to her senses and began to value herself. How much does it cost now? A McDonald's roll and some wine. Sometimes she'll have something extra. She deserves some fun too. But she takes care of herself. She only takes what's natural. She wants to achieve something in life. She already feels like she's succeeded. She's earning her own living. So much for living here for now. In an old warehouse, and having rats for company. There's a lot to learn from them. Now she could feel their eyes on her. They weren't shuffling like usual, frozen, and not warning her with their squeaks. They were waiting. They wanted to see how stupid she was. Would she jump? Would she come to her senses?

She looked again into the black abyss at her feet. She lowered her hands. She smiled. That would be too theatrical. And everything would be ruined. She had a huge chance, after all...

"Agniecha! What the fuck are you doing!" Someone brutally grabbed her by the arms and threw her against the wall. She fell, leaning against the ground. All she heard was the crunch of shattering glass and felt the sticky warmth on the palm of her hand. Surprised, she approached the candle. She first examined her fingernails. They were bitten and dirty, then, with some hesitation, she turned her hand over. Blood—why doesn't it hurt?—she thought, but it wasn't a question, because she lacked the strength to ask that little question mark.

"Agniecha! Fuck! You're nothing but trouble, girl. I won't take care of you. I don't have time for brats like you. This is your last cigarette. If you can't, then stay out of it. We need a body here. Did you have to break the glass?" She barely recognized him. Maciej. Maciej lived next door. Maciej let her have that hole in the floor. Maciej was good to her. He once punched a guy who tried to drug her. Maciej was sick. Maciej said she should go home because he knew nothing about life. Maciej says that if he had what she had, he would never have ended up here. But he doesn't understand. Despite this, they like each other.

She was woken by Maciek's terrible cough. The pale light of a November day filtered through a hole in the floor. Cold. So damned cold. Two cinder blocks, a metal plate. A smattering of newspapers. She struggled to get the fire going. Maciej made sure there was always tea. After a long struggle, she managed to brew something that could barely pass for luxury. Maciej lay sweating on the bare ground. Agniecha wasn't surprised. He rarely slept soundly at night. With difficulty, she dragged him onto the remains of the mattress. She put her sweatshirt under his head and covered him with the torn duvet. He was still shaking. She ran for her sleeping bag and only then began to give him tea. They must have sat there for half a day. She sat down next to him and took his hand. Maciej lay with his eyes closed, breathing calmly. The coughing fit had passed. She studied him closely. He was so tall he barely fit on the mattress. He was also so thin he barely took up a third of its surface. He must have been very handsome once. Now he had enormous dark circles under his eyes, and greasy, thin hair that accentuated his high forehead. He looked very sick, and she knew nothing about his illness. Perhaps he should be in the hospital? He seemed to have a fever.

They sat there in the semidarkness. Agnieszka clutched his hand. Both lonely, each hopeful. Complete strangers, yet protective of the other. A petite girl who should be sitting at her desk, excited by the latest rumor about Marilyn Manson, and a wannabe basketball player, a polytechnic student. Maciej knew neither of them belonged here. Neither of them belonged here; this wasn't their world, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't protect this girl from all the evil. He was too weak to care for himself, let alone a child. After all, she was just a small, troubled girl, unable to cope with reality yet, and driving herself into a dead end. It terrified him. He thought it over. He knew he couldn't handle this situation, but he also couldn't watch her hit rock bottom.

"Does it hurt you that much?" She looked at his tears, terrified. A man who cries?

"No, but I think I have a fever. It always makes me cry. Go to the pharmacy, huh?"

She ran as fast as she could. She had a little change in her pocket and a big request for enough money for medicine. At the gate, a tall, long-haired man stopped her.

"Little one, you want to earn some money?" She slowed down and looked at him uncertainly.

"Two tenners don't walk..." He waved the bills in front of her. She knew him by sight, but she'd heard it was best not to have anything to do with him. But the money would be useful.

"What should I do?

" "The usual, just a little differently.

" "When?

" "Why delay?" He grabbed her by the sweatshirt and pulled her toward the gate.

"I can't do it now." She pushed him away. She thought of Maciej, lying there alone, probably fighting a cough again. She pushed the blonde away and started running again. She had enough money, but she wasn't sure if it would help him. A simple aspirin and some cough syrup. She took the long way back, not wanting another encounter with the unpleasant man from the gate. She started running again. Already in the woods, she could already see the white outline of their warehouse. The small, two-story building made of white cinder blocks was the perfect place for them. The ground floor was frightening with broken windows, and the only way to get upstairs was through a hole in the floor. Now a ladder awaited her, but no stranger could climb up there because they had to drag the ladder inside at night. Upstairs, they had set up a quite cozy nook. Because there were no windows, they used candles, which softened the dingy look of the place.

She went upstairs and, gasping for breath, searched for a spoon for the syrup. Maciej wasn't coughing. He was probably asleep. She quietly peeked in. But Maciej wasn't there. His mattress was empty. His bag, where he kept his personal belongings, was also gone. Agnieszka was terrified. She ran around the entire warehouse, but Maciej wasn't there. When she sat down on her bed, crying, she found a note with the words: Wait for me, Maciej.

The days passed. Agniecha stopped counting them. They were all alike. Cold and dark. She rarely went out; she'd missed Christmas, New Year's Eve... It was probably the end of February now... Never mind. She waited and waited. Thanks to the discreet care of a certain man, she somehow survived; otherwise, she would have starved long ago. And he demanded so little of her. He didn't even want her to be too clean. At first, it surprised her, but then all that mattered was that he'd gotten her a jacket and a blanket. He bought her food because he said he didn't want her to get high, but she didn't take anything. Without Maciej, she had to fend for herself and couldn't afford to lose consciousness. Once, she woke up without her jacket and panties, her thighs bloody, in a dumpster. Afterward, she felt a pain inside for a long time. Somehow, she got herself back in order and now only goes out to appointments and returns immediately afterward.

She heard scratching sounds in the wall. Curious, she crawled closer on all fours. Curious whiskers cautiously peeked out from the black hole, followed by a wiggly nose and twinkling mischievous eyes. Agnieszka waited, and the rat, recognizing the scents, boldly slid to the floor. Joyfully waving its bald, plump tail, it waddled toward the half-eaten bag of chips. "Okay, you can help yourself to one," Agnieszka thought good-naturedly. But she rubbed her eyes in surprise when she saw the animal dragging the entire bag behind it. Without hesitation, she threw an empty Coke bottle at it. The rat was faster and soared almost two meters into the air. With a squeal, it fell to the floor and quickly turned toward the chips. However, it didn't have time to catch the treasure, as more objects were already flying at it. It huffed a few times in rage and jumped into the hole in the floor. Agnieszka won this battle. She reached for the chips and began to eat.

Tired, she climbed upstairs. She had struggled quite a bit. Today she had earned enough food for a week. It was getting warm, and she was wearing her winter jacket. Exhausted, she collapsed on the floor, and from this perspective, she saw that the fire was burning, and a brand new kettle was whistling merrily on the stovetop. She jumped up and cautiously began to creep toward Maciek's room.

"How did you get in?" She almost wet herself with joy. Maciej stood in the middle. He smiled at her, waiting for her to attack him and strangle him with his bony frame. A moment later, they were both rolling on the concrete. As they sat down to tea, panting, they noticed the changes in each other. Maciej looked healthier, but at the same time, he seemed to have aged ten years. He didn't have the feverish flush, he was breathing calmly, and his eyes no longer had that glassy look. But he was even thinner. His hair was cropped short, revealing a visible bald spot. Wrinkles had appeared on his face, which were now more pronounced. He watched Agniecha as she searched for sugar in the bags she had brought. She was unwashed and smelled unpleasant. Her greasy hair hung in strings, almost obscuring her gray face, with sunken cheeks, festering eyes, and a large scab on her upper lip. Her hands slowly pulled out each item and gently placed it on the floor. She tried to control her trembling hands, but she couldn't.

"You need a bath," Maciej joked.

"Well, what do you mean? I had a bath two months ago," she retorted. "You'd better quickly tell me why you're such a pig and left me alone for the winter. You probably went back to Mommy's and warmed your ass by the radiators, under a duvet, while I worked hard here all these months, still waiting for you." He didn't say anything, just took a sip of tea and smiled.

"You didn't miss me at all. Don't pretend. And what did you really live on?

" "You know. That guy who used to pick me up at the station, he's a decent guy. He took care of me, and I didn't really want for anything. I didn't even have to work hard. He's some kind of pervert. I just pee and he, you know... Maybe we can make pasta? We should celebrate your return." They spent the rest of the day chatting about nothing. They ate hard pasta with sauce from a bag and drank beer. Today they could afford it. In the evening, they heated water in the largest pot they had, and Maciej urged her to wash. Reluctantly, she peeled off layers of clothing. Slowly, her body emerged. Maciek was speechless... With tears in his eyes, he soaped her bruised back. She was so thin she could have been an exhibit in an anatomy museum. Her entire skin was covered with bruises, scabs, scars, and quite fresh wounds. Some of them began to bleed again under the gentle touch of the soapy cloth. A fresh boil swelled on her right arm. He didn't want to know who had done this to her, because he would have killed the bastard.

"Listen, Agniecha. I have some money. It's getting warmer. Let's go somewhere..." Her arms broke out in goosebumps. A muddy path formed between the shoulder blades.

"Where?

" "I haven't seen the sea in ages.

" "I've never been to the sea.

" "You see. Nothing keeps us here. It's spring. Everything is coming back to life. Something has to be done.

" "It's decided. Let's go."

"Just clean yourself up first. You've got so much dirt behind your ears you could plant a radish there. I'm ashamed to be seen with you.

" "Radish sounds good." He tugged at her hair and went to heat another pot of water.

Agniecha, her eyes wide, tried to take in the sea. The horizon was slightly hazy, and it seemed to her like the end of the world. She couldn't resist licking the hand she'd dipped in the water earlier. Maciej, busy building a structure from the damp sand, ignored the happiness raging in her eyes. She became a little girl again. The grains of sand, blown onto her face by the salty wind, washed away all the harm life had done her. Ignoring the fact that her sneakers were soaked, she played chase with the waves. She marveled at how quickly the water removed her footprints from the soft, delicate sand. This limitless space brought her to near ecstasy. No people, except her and Maciej. Just the screeching of seagulls, the roar of waves, the whistling of the wind in her tousled hair, and her rasping breath. She wanted to stay here forever... Without a second thought, she took advantage of the retreating wave and ran into the sea opening before her. She didn't have time to escape, and the cold hit her. The water was so icy it nearly burst her lungs. It filled her completely. Agniecha saw faint rays of sunlight piercing the water and lost consciousness.

"What are you doing again!!! I won't watch over you like some fucking Guardian Angel for the rest of my life." More seriously, finally—Agniecha looked around uncertainly. They were in a room. Maciej was standing at the cupboard, pouring boiling water from an electric kettle. It was a strange room. There was almost nothing in it.

"Where are we?" she asked weakly, feeling the taste of vomit in her mouth. Her whole face was numb. It was as if she were wearing a mask. The mask was bothering her. She wanted to take it off and breathe deeply...

"I rented a room, good thing it's off-season, at least it's cheaper. And you wanted to sleep on the beach. Now we'll sit here until you're completely recovered. What did you want to do?" He sat down on the bed and grabbed her hand. She felt strange, the mask was cracking... She inhaled carefully once. Her lungs ached, she tried again, and something inside her boiled. For a moment, she thought she might cry. She looked away.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry. The water flooded me, I didn't have time to escape... that's all.

" "Agniecha..." He bit his lip. He didn't know what else to say. No, he knew, but he didn't know how. He was afraid for her. This today... his jump into the water, it would cost him dearly. There was so little time left, and he wanted to teach her so much. He had no plan, and he really had no idea how to go about it. Does she have no self-preservation instinct at all? He had lost his life, but she had everything ahead of her. She wasn't lost yet. She was capable of joy...

The days passed, and it grew warmer. Agnieszka grew more beautiful day by day; her cheeks became rosy, and her eyes took on a radiant glow. Her wounds healed. They didn't worry about anything. They slept with farmers who, in exchange for a little alcohol or help around the farm, let them sleep in barns, dilapidated pigsties, and once even in a roofless stable. Only Maciej wasn't so healthy anymore. This lifestyle was wearing him down. He slept more and more, often suffering from violent coughing fits. Bruises were forming everywhere on his body, and they refused to heal. It was as if Maciej were devoting his entire life to Agnieszka: his strength, curiosity, joy, and carefreeness. He chose the easiest routes and rested more often. She joked about him getting older, but he was only thirty-two. For her, it might have been old age, but he always thought he'd live to be almost a hundred, like everyone in his family who hadn't died in an accident. He belonged to a family of travelers. Neither his parents nor grandparents had owned a proper home. His grandmother was a missionary somewhere in Africa and lived in a bamboo hut, his grandfather at the Arctic Circle in some research station shortly before his death. His sister joined a cult, and after he admitted he was gay, he moved to a squat in protest because his family didn't accept his boyfriend. And then, when he found out his beloved was dying, he was by his side the whole time... And then he no longer felt like doing anything and knew he would soon die too. He didn't worry about it, because nothing held him there. He moved into that old warehouse and got rid of everything; he had the bare minimum necessary to survive. He took care of himself as best he could under the circumstances. And then Agnieszka appeared. He didn't want to judge her, but he watched over her. He felt sorry for her. He didn't question her or offer advice. He only exerted a gentle control over her. He liked her and didn't want her to end up like the other girls at the station. So, when he was truly ill in the fall, he turned to his family for help. They helped him, and he returned because he still wanted to teach Agnieszka so much. He was afraid that if he left her, she would never achieve anything in life, would be wasted... He wanted to give her a chance.

Agnieszka stood speechless and terrified, crushing the bulging envelope in her hands. She pursed her lips and opened it. She pulled out a roll of banknotes wrapped in white paper. There were few words on it, and they weren't pleasant, something like, "I'm dying," and then a request, "Do something for me." Agnieszka didn't understand much of it, but suddenly she felt so terribly lonely.

She stared in awe at the crystal chandelier, seeing her reflection everywhere she looked. Large mirrors followed her every step, pastel angels smiled down at her from the ceiling, and staring at the polished floor, whose mosaic pattern resembled a sharp acid trip, made her dizzy. She glided toward the next room. There was no tour, no guide, yet something kept her from taking a seat on the beautifully carved velvet chair. She felt ill at ease here. Suddenly, she noticed movement in the corner of the room. She began to observe it carefully. The familiar slap of fur against the wall, a black nose and wiggly whiskers, gleaming eyes... A rat? Ignoring everything, the rat climbed onto the chair and wrapped its pink tail majestically around its legs. It smiled at her.