Death Journey

 

He strode through life confidently and with dignity, like a Cossack ataman at the head of his unit, guiding the fate of his numerous charges. Yet he, a twenty-five-year-old boy from the outskirts of a big city, truly had no one. The imaginary world in which he surrounded himself, his substitute for contact with the world, was the beginning of the end for this young man…

The coming day couldn't have foreshadowed all this. Waking up, he didn't need an alarm clock to shake himself from the lethargy of his shallow sleep. He felt the rays of the rising sun beating on his face, feeling like the hero of Bruno Schulz's Crocodile Street. He knew this day would be special for him too. He couldn't have expected the impact this anticipation would have on his future…

He opened the window of his room. Feeling the incredible breeze of nature, the mingled aroma of morning grass, the scent of leaves on the trees, the force of the wind penetrating his face, and hearing the chirping of birds, he closed his eyes. He had an uncanny ability to recreate strange images in his mind, something he kept secret. He was afraid that if he told anyone, his confidant would laugh at best, or at worst, suggest an appointment with the city psychologist, sponsoring the visit out of pity for his sick interlocutor.

He contemplated this for five minutes, standing in front of the window in his pajamas, a blissful smile on his face and his eyes closed. Perhaps it was truly a good thing no one saw him at that moment. Our hero thought for a moment how little a person needed to be happy and left the hallway of his room.

In the single-family home on the outskirts of the big city where he lived, everyone was still fast asleep. He dashed to the kitchen, made a quick breakfast, and ran out of the house.

He didn't know where he was going. He had two options. He could turn left, toward the forest, or right, toward the road leading to the city. He stopped at a crossroads, and unexpectedly, his face took on a worried expression. He had never stopped in this place before; always, whether involuntarily or deliberately, his feet led him towards the forest. He was frightened. If we recalled his morning expression as he stood before the window and compared it with the present, we would have a kaleidoscope of two different emotional states. If he could see himself at that moment, he would be terribly frightened and think it might be the devil's expression, not his own.

His mouth went dry, and he turned pale. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, and as if hypnotized by a terrible charlatan, his legs rooted to the ground. The magical five minutes that had had such a profound impact on this boy's life had just passed...

He decided to go into town, even though he had no purpose, didn't know how or why, but he did.

There was only one road leading to the city, and its center could expect this unexpected guest in about an hour.

As the young man walked along the edge of the asphalt, which would gradually transform into a highway, he thought about his life. Despite this, not once during this unusual journey did he look back. He was unaware, however, of what was the most important, most spectacular goal in the lives of his peers. When the sign reading "life" appeared in his subconscious, he didn't think at all about money, boozy parties, cars, or other material things. All his life, he had dreamed of unrequited love, of a woman with whom he could live a life in harmony with his conscience and reason. He longed for true affection, for sharing unsullied love and himself. He longed for an idyllic life, and he also wanted to be guided by altruism…

He didn't dwell on the past, thinking only about the future.

"Why recall the bad times?" he said to himself, and moved confidently forward.

The hour-long journey, though on foot, hadn't significantly affected his physical condition. He ignored the passing public buses, not even considering taking advantage of this opportunity to continue his journey. He simply walked forward. He didn't even consider the absurdity of this trip. He walked and walked, like a pilgrim reaching his destination.

When the number of people suddenly increased to a terrifying degree, he became alarmed.

The first major street, the first deafening roar of cars, the first wry glances directed his way.

Out of nowhere, a strange feeling gripped him—those five minutes again. Numb, he stared at the people with a dull gaze, as if they were alien beings ready to violate his personal inviolability at any moment. He began to shake.

As his unconsciousness slowly ebbed, a tall, well-built policeman stood across from him. Seeing his strange behavior, he said loudly,

"Well, another junkie!"

Our hero woke up and, seeing the officer of the law before him, was utterly surprised.

"Identification, please. Did you take anything today?" the policeman asked.

"Me?" the boy replied with genuine surprise.

"Not you, the one behind you," the policeman clearly wanted to demonstrate his sense of humor. "

I don't know the one behind me, Mr. Policeman.

" "If you talk back, you'll come with me to the station," the red-faced policeman panted. "So, did you take anything today?"

The question was again on his lips: "Me?" but he came to his senses in time and made a quick retort, unfortunately again not very successful.

"No, I'm here as I am, I don't have any luggage," the man replied with a serious face.

"Damn it! Give me those documents!" The man in the blue uniform's face reddened again.

The policeman carried out his duties, checking the pedestrian's ID and threatening that if he saw him in such a state again, he would deal with him more seriously.

After about an hour, when it was almost noon and the sun was taking its toll on everyone, the boy regained full consciousness and, sitting on the bench, he burst into convulsive laughter.

He watched the people, still on the same bench. Hundreds of people were passing before him, and he didn't know what to do next. His gaze was lost in thought, shifting between the lines and the bench. He watched the rush of people, observing them like animals in his forest when he went on long, daylong walks. He looked at them and compared some to animals, saying to himself, "

That lady looks a lot like her dog.

" "That gentleman has a pig's snout." "

That lady moves like a lame deer."

"Oh, and this man resembles a hippopotamus, he's so huge..."

He didn't do it ironically, with malice, he wasn't making fun of people. Comparing people to animals was a thoroughly positive compliment.

Before our hero realized it, night had fallen. But nothing reminded him of his own rural nights and the atmosphere there.

Drunk people rolling down the street like hay bales driven by the wind in the desert, the rattle of cars, the stench of the street, the stench of people.

Our twenty-five-year-old began to shiver, but not at all because of the cold night. Tears dripped down his face, one after another. He wasn't ashamed of it, even though, uncovered like a deer caught in a hunting trap, he was exposed to the gaze of the two-legged creatures. Five minutes passed...

His head buzzed, his body quivered, and his legs told him to move. Forward. In utter agony, unconscious, the boy rose from the bench. He passes the lawn, oblivious to the greenery, and enters the street… Right under the wheels of a bus, the same one that passed him on the way to the city… on the way to his death…

Half an hour later, the police arrived and prepared a report. The officer who had previously checked the victim's ID was also there. He whispered to his colleague,

"You know, I checked his ID today; he was a junkie. I was wondering what to do with him, but I finally let him go… At least we'll have less work at the station…" The man in the police cap began to chuckle.

By dawn, there was no trace of the incident. No one had sat on the bench all day…

Only one woman, walking with her companion, remarked,

"Look how many birds are in that tree above the bench, how beautifully and loudly they sing!" It's never been like this here.

"Let's go, we don't have much time…" the man replied in a serious voice.