It will never be today (part 1)

I don't want you to think it was intentional... You know, I didn't want this at all... I didn't want this to happen, even though I think I...

Crackle.

I don't think I really want... I don't want to drag this out any longer.

Breath.

Don't blame me. I've been thinking things over... A quiver in

my voice. The door creaks.

Don't call me.

The relief in my voice?

"End of message. Another message..."

The boy rolled heavily onto his side and stared at the ceiling.

The end. Yes. But not the message. The end of my illusions and dreams. The end of what I called a lucky break.

He sighed heavily and slowly rose from the cluttered bed. He had to get up. Not just because of the books digging into his back, scattered picturesquely across the sheets.

There was nothing in the fridge except a piece of cheese, a few old olives, and a frozen pizza. He ate it all. Everything flew by, regardless of the fact that he might end up in the hospital again, among hundreds of uneducated nurses forcing medication on him. Just like that time...

But he didn't really care anymore. He wiped away a tear that was lazily rolling down his right cheek. And then another. And another.

Slowly, he pulled a knife from the cabinet.

***

"What are they thinking? What are they thinking! Oh no, I won't give them that satisfaction! No!!!..."

The hunched man in the brown suit looked at him with disgust.

"Come on, what is this supposed to be?... try harder... Remember, your heroine is furious! Furious as hell!"

The girl sat down on the couch with resignation. The couch, all told, was about 20 years old and probably remembered the days of "Four Tank Men and a Dog," but it could just as easily have been stylized. After all, the director was a strange man; Majka was sure he spent hours searching through antique shops, looking for something truly original. Originality, yes, that was a director's trait. That was one of the reasons he was stuck in a deserted tenement building, full of cobwebs and old plaster, with no lighting, and only a single, old camera. Well, it happens.

"Remember, I'm making a film that will revolutionize Polish cinema. I'm an artist, I'll make you someone really important. You'll pose for Gala, Viva, and other commercial magazines, journalists will be after you, understand? You'll end up with Wojewódzki, he'll ridicule you, but whatever, I have a friend, he'll quiet everything down, understand?"

A nervous intake of breath.

"...You'll see! You'll thank me again, just start..."

The torrent of words poured out faster and faster. In Majka's head, the words began to mix, to coalesce into one shapeless mass of sounds. The blood pounded in my temples faster and faster. My fingers gripped the old, rumpled couch cover nervously.

Calm down. Yes. That's a good thought. Majka, breathe. Breathe.

Breathe.

"...You have no idea how much effort and money I put into this, you just can't understand it...

Piss off, you old idiot.

" "...I know, you have no talent, no charm, but that will be covered up...

Majka, calm down.

" "...is something wrong with you? Well, nothing, anyway..."

Teeth clenched until they hurt. Muscles began to tremble dangerously.

"...are you sure you're okay, Martyn?"

"Shut your mouth, you piece of shit!"

The scream echoed off the walls of the room, dust swirling nervously in the air. The door, slammed shut with fury, now hung forlornly on one hinge. A red, freckled face peeked out from behind the doorframe.

"By the way, my name is Majka, you idiot.

" ***

"Can I get you anything?" the saleswoman snapped.

Maja snapped out of her reverie. "I've been staring at the lollipops for several minutes now," she said with surprise.

"Can I get you something?" the woman behind the counter yelled.

"There's a mistake on this note. A spelling error."

The woman blinked and grimaced. Her plum eyeshadow was falling out badly in her wrinkles.

"What mistake?" she gasped.

Maja smoothed her hair. "Oh, you can't do makeup.

" "Oh, you can write discount with a z."

The woman stumbled from behind the counter, walked closer, and tore off a yellowed note attached to a wooden basket with a green thumbtack. She stared for a moment, then pulled a pen from the pocket of her speckled apron

(you can buy it cheapest here! the bright red print on the cap read)

and with a flourish crossed out the r.

"Can I get you something?" she snapped

. "Rolls. About six." And if you have it, it's as fresh as possible.

The saleswoman trotted over to the storeroom, glancing disapprovingly at the fair-haired girl in the long brown coat.

The cell phone rang with the latest Mezo hit.

Majka stared at the number in surprise. What could Justyna possibly want? Stupid pig.

"Excuse me?"

Quiet growls. Crying?

"Justyna, are you there?

" "Please come to the emergency room quickly, you know, the one near your university, Majka, I don't know how it happened, I swear, but..."

A sniffle.

"...but Tomek tried... tried...

" Rapid, painful heartbeats. Tomek. Tomek.

"What?! Tell me!" Majka clutched her stomach.

(You always react this way to stress, my daughter...)

"...tried to commit suicide and..."

The cell phone flew from Majka's numb hand, thudding to the floor. Tomek. Tried. To. Commit. Suicide. A frightened saleswoman emerged from the warehouse. Rolls rolled across the floor.

"Are you okay? My God! Take it easy, take it easy! Are you having a seizure or something? Can you hear me? Ma'am!!!

" "I'm okay..."

Majka slowly rose from the floor. She had no idea when she fell. All thoughts vanished. Except...

(...he tried to commit suicide...)

"Oh my God! But your face is pale, did something happen?"

(...Majka, I don't know how it happened...)

The young girl in the brown coat nervously shook her short hair, like bright yellow straw at harvest time. Her lips quivered nervously. She jumped up, grabbed her shattered cell phone, and ran out of the shop. The woman watched silently as she caught the first taxi she came across and tried to open the door with trembling hands.

And the trees laughed mockingly.

(or maybe it was just the wind)

***

Take it easy. He's alive. I guess. He only tried. He tried, and that means he's alive. But it's because of me. But what did I say? I didn't want him to... to... do something like that. I overreacted. And why did I call him, exactly? Maybe if I hadn't recorded myself or something...

"Can I help you?"

Majka raised her head.

"Yes... do you know what's going on with that... boy, what..."

The nurse stared at the door leading to the emergency room for a moment. She sighed quietly, then sat down on the next chair.

"It's a very difficult procedure, you know, he lost a lot of blood and stuff. From what I've heard, some chemicals were detected in him. And that, as you can imagine, complicates things immensely. You know, I don't know what he took, they're currently examining him, but the fact that he swallowed something like that... Come on, don't cry..."

She wiped Majka's tear away.

"Maybe it won't be so bad. And that boy has a lot of strength.

" "He practiced judo.

" "You see." I don't know if she'll be able to hold out for the next 24 hours, though. Then everything will become clear. Please go home, come back tomorrow. Sitting here won't help, and they won't let you in anyway. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to write up a report.

She took a few steps. She turned around uncertainly for a moment.

"Pray.

" ***

"Majeczka, is that you?!

Justyna could barely stand on her black stilettos. She was leaning on the bulletin board with one hand. Her makeup had completely run, creating black tear lines on her cheeks.

Majka raised her head absently.

I must have dozed off.

"Yes... what happened? You... reported the accident?"

"You know, honey, it was terrible," Justyna sniffed, "I was supposed to bring him the materials for the session because he wasn't there and... he wouldn't open the door, you know, I thought he was gone... I was furious, he promised he would be there... you know, I was about to leave when, under the door... under the door..."

Majka was crumpling a leaflet

(new remedy for hemorrhoids, you'll get rid of them forever, without a prescription).

"...I saw water. I got scared because his apartment flooded, and it was rented, you know, you can't do that... I broke down his door with the help of a neighbor, ran into the bathroom and... and...

" "Thank you."

Justyna raised her eyebrows.

"For what?

" "For calling. And you shouldn't have."

Majka stared at the floor. Her friend's watchful gaze probed her stubbornly.

"What did you do to him?

Just calm down.

" "It's none of your business.

" "Oh yeah?" Justyna snorted. "I know exactly how things were between you. Tomek wasn't to blame for anything." Because he loved you incredibly.

The wind rustled in the hallway. The door was locked. And behind it, the answer to all her questions. Maja struggled to control her shaking hands.

"You know nothing. Don't judge.

" "Really?!" Justyna ripped off several notices with a vengeance, trying to stand up. "You have no idea how many times I had to hold him like a child to calm him down. And it's all because of you.

I'm losing control again. It's not true. Stupid bitch.

" "What did you do to him this time, to make him take his own life, huh?"

Majka clenched her fists until her nails dug into her.

"Do you know what he's been through? How many problems he's had? He told me once that he had nothing to live for, unless it was for someone. Don't think he was talking about anyone else. He was talking about...

" "Enough."

Justyna watched triumphantly.

Is that curled-up girl the same one from a month ago...? A thought flashed through her mind...

The wind was blowing louder and louder.

The lock on the door clicked. A nurse and a rail-thin doctor emerged.

"Mr. Relatives?"

Majka flinched at the sound of the doctor's voice, a tired, worn-out, senile voice.

"Close... friends," Justyna replied almost in a whisper. "Can we see him? Talk?"

The slight man in a white, though occasionally soiled, smeared smock looked at her indifferently. Slowly, not trying to be polite, he pointed to a small sign hanging from the doorknob.

(Do not disturb.)

The hallway was deserted. Well, except for that damn idiot with the broken heels. Majka looked her up and down. Idiot...

Justyna's gaze. Ominous. Murderous. She'll start ranting again soon...

"Let's get back to the topic." Justyna examined her perfectly painted nails. "What did you do to him?

" "Why would I do anything to him?" Majka replied, trying to look indifferent.

There was that look again.

"I'd like to know too. It just so happens you had no reason to hurt him, quite the opposite. So why? Hmm? ...

I don't like that tone. Like something out of some stupid TV show.

" "... Or maybe it has something to do with Darek's party? What? Admit it. "

Majka clenched her fists. This is too much.

"Then why don't you admit what you know, huh?" she yelled. "You like gossip about me, so tell me, it'll make you feel better!

" "I know everything. I know about Piotrek. About what you did in front of Tomek." Justyna smiled triumphantly. "Don't think Tomuś didn't tell me about this."

Majka slowly rose from her chair. She quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, then quickly headed for the exit. She didn't want to see her anymore. She had had enough.

(Don't think Tomuś didn't tell me...)

(Tomuś...)

She quickened her pace.

(I know about Piotrek...)

(You were acting up in front of Tomek...)

(Admit it!)

She ran outside. She caught a taxi. She stopped thinking.

***

She pulled out his photo. She bit her lip. She pulled it out one by one, absorbing every single detail.

Tomek on the slope.

Tomek in front of the tent.

Tomek playing guitar.

Tomek...

She looked and couldn't believe it. Did she really know him? And if so, from what side?

At first, she started to get hysterical. She curled up in the corner and cried, banging her hands against the walls, breaking two or three cups of sedative, screaming and kicking at an old wardrobe. Finally, she lay down on the bed. She fell asleep for 25 minutes. She had just gotten up. Now she was rummaging through old albums.

She closed the last one, the one with the pink and red flowers, and drank her second cup of coffee.

Her thoughts were far away.

It was probably a week ago. No. It had started earlier. Right when Justyna had shown up. So, a few months ago. Oh God. It had been so long, and how had I played it off? Well, because...

First, Justyna had latched onto him. And then... then he had started being friends with her. Friendship?

She wasn't sure. She figured if he was so clingy, then... tough. Even though she cared about him, tough. Hard... That's what she told herself then. Hard. It was over, it was over. No, it wasn't. For a while, she wrestled with her thoughts. Once, she stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection with growing dissatisfaction. Was she supposed to compare to "Dear Justysia"? She coldly calculated her chances.

And she no longer had any doubts.

She didn't want to keep him. That's why she was so clingy to that Piotrek, or whatever his name was, with Darek. And the fact that... The fact that she forgot... it wasn't a big deal (?)

But if he cared about her so much, then... why did he take his own life?

Did he care about me?

Majka stared straight ahead. For a long time, she'd been crumpling up a note. Did he love her? No. Maja had never acknowledged love. Once, as a teenager, she'd started eyeing a boy from the next block. It was a one-sided love, because the boy had no intention of reciprocating the feelings of "that crazy girl with the blonde hair on her head," and although for months Maja practically begged him to meet her, he effectively avoided her. And then... then, somehow, it all happened. Love didn't exist for her. Yes, men did. They were a source of pleasure. Or something more? Maybe so, she always told herself, but I don't want to know. She'd seen enough of her friends standing on her doorstep at two in the morning, crying, hysterical, because he had another woman, because he dumped me, because I loved him, because he was a bastard and a pig. She always comforted them then, making them some thin coffee on purpose, taking cookies from the cupboard, and encouraging them to confide in her. How many nights like that had she experienced? Enough to conclude that the sunrise would no longer surprise her. She also discovered considerable pleasure in experiencing that unique feeling in the world: superiority. She didn't have such problems. She was liberated.

Superior.

Once, during one of these sessions, a high school friend asked her directly if she was really that cold, or if she just wanted to be perceived as such. Majka looked at her in surprise. "I don't know," she stammered quietly.

Majka continued to crumple her note. She remembered what had come to mind at the time. Her parents.

Her parents had been dead for several years. This fact meant little to Majka. Aunt Zofia took it upon herself to provide financial support—she bought an apartment, paid the rent, and dropped by every now and then to check on her studies and whether she needed to borrow some more money. Sometimes she buys small gifts so that, as she put it during one visit, "Majka won't forget she has a family." Her parents. They didn't care much for their daughter. They loved her, gave her everything they could. And then... then they were simply gone. They went to Africa on some mission. The UN, she remembered. And even later... they brought back two small coffins. Brown. Maja didn't cry.

She visited the grave rarely. Only on All Souls' Day, sometimes when she had to fix something on the tombstones.

They never bothered her. Because... she didn't love them?

Majka fidgeted nervously. Wait, the nurse said everything would be cleared up within 24 hours. So I have to sleep. Sleep...

She threw back the covers and lay down on the sheets. Sleep came late.

***

In the morning, she got up quickly, washed off her dried makeup, and drank a few dissolved sedatives. She paced from one side of the apartment to the other. She didn't care that she had an internship at the university today. She didn't care that it was so important. Crucial, in fact, to passing this semester. She put on her coat and ran out of the house. She caught a taxi and rode with her nose glued to the window. Getting out, she caught the toe of her shoe on the door.

The hospital building seemed gloomier than usual.

She waited in the hallway. Finally, a tall, thin doctor emerged from the ward and pointed to the door. He spent a long time looking around at the unknown girl, who was constantly mumbling something under her breath.

"Good morning..." she muttered quietly at the sight of a familiar nurse, "or...

" "Yes, perhaps you can," she smiled.

Majka nodded gratefully. She felt an indescribable sense of relief, wanted to say something more, to thank him... The words seemed to refuse to leave her constricted throat. They didn't have to.

Maja opened the door. Slowly, so as not to squeak and wake the sleeping Tomek. The living Tomek. The rotten green walls of the room betrayed no emotion. Several cabinets attached to the walls were filled with various medications, with names so complex and exotic that the mere thought of them made her uneasy. Hidden behind some gigantic apparatus, he lay there. Maja felt her legs give out, getting tangled and refusing to listen. She stood and started counting. Counting back and forth to ten, then fractionally to 20. "Studies are good for something after all," the thought flashed through her mind.

She approached the bed. He was less damaged than she'd thought. He wasn't on respirators, nor was he locked in some chamber as she'd imagined. Instead, he was covered in a multitude of bandages. And he seemed somehow... more frail. His head was slightly tilted to the left. He was asleep.

She sat up, hesitantly at first.

She stroked his black hair, which was short and disheveled. She withdrew her hand when she felt the roughness of his skin. A tear began to form in her eye.

He stirred.

He whispered something in his sleep, his voice tired.

And then he stirred again.

Silence.

***

to be continued?