Finding the Ground Beneath the Feet
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I was disappointed in everything… Yesterday, I think I died again. I don’t remember what happened yesterday, but it doesn’t matter. For too long, the only friends I had were books. And Katya, of course. I read book after book as if I was carried away to other worlds, but apparently, my time had come. I knew I was going to die…
Did Mariana have a chance to survive? She certainly had. If not for the depression, not for a very difficult course of the illness, not for the indifference… The girl died and went on her new journey, hoping that it would not be painful or at least that it would be warm there. Perhaps, whoever is judging us has decided that she deserves not only a new chance but also a new challenge.
* * *A usual ward was entered by some unusual doctor. He wore not white but soft blue clothes, so it looked unusual. The doctor looked at the tools, adjusted something in the IV, and only then shone a torch in my eyes. He probably wanted to see whether I responded to the light. I squeezed my eyes shut, and he smiled and started talking with me. Later, I realized we were speaking German, but at the time, I was surprised at what he called me. Just like in the book!
«Frau 1 Schmidt, you gave everyone quite a scare». The doctor was looking at me attentively, so my mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts. «Do you understand me?»
«I understand,» I nodded, groaning softly. At the moment, my joints hurt, not my fingers, but it seemed like everything hurt. And… I had no idea what was going on with Frau Schmidt. I had no idea what her name was. «What is my name?»
«Your name is Gabriella,» the doctor sighed and suddenly caressed my head.
1
The term «Fraulein’ is considered obsolete and is not used today. (Here and further below: author’s note).
It felt so good that I reached out for his hand asking for more. I didn’t know what was happening to me. Everything was so strange…
«Do not fear your condition. Memory loss is possible after a near-death experience. The good news is that the scar will not be noticeable at all.»
Somehow, it seemed to me that those words had some hidden meaning, but of course, I understood it in my own way.
«Thank you, Doctor,» I thanked him because I wanted to be polite.
The news about the scar was really good. It meant that at least I wouldn’t be pointed at. I wondered if Willy Schmidt was my brother. He didn’t have a sister in the book. That’s probably why he didn’t: I died…
The doctor had gone away on business, and I kept thinking about what was ahead of me. I couldn’t believe I was healthy, and my hands and feet hinted at the same thing. And if at that orphanage (well, in the book it was an orphanage because the boy was an orphan there), I was treated the same way as in the book, it meant… It meant they would beat me, and I could make it to the academy! In German schools, they beat children. I knew that for sure, but I did not remember when, but our teacher often told us that she would love to… «So,» I thought, «At school, you can get something that makes you breathe easier too. And later, at the academy, too, I suppose?» Life didn’t seem so terrifying anymore because before, no one just wanted me, but now, at least, I was hated (well, if I was in the book), and that’s a feeling already.
I was lying there and thinking that perhaps Mariana had died. At last. But I couldn’t grasp why I was the one in pain again. I thought that it could be just hell. I’d gotten sick when I was Mariana and hurt my mommy and daddy, so I’d been punished for it, and now I was hurting again. And there’s a scary academy ahead. It’s magical, but it’s really scary because there are a lot of stairs. And stairs can give you pain. Maybe I would get killed there too. I mean, they wanted to in the book, but that boy, Willy, he wanted to live, and I… And I didn’t have to. I wondered how old I was and what I looked like. It couldn’t be Mariana, could it?
I didn’t expect anyone to come to me, but someone did. It was a woman: she was thin and wore a strange dress, like a uniform in war movies. I didn’t know her, but she reminded me of someone… Well, probably the lady from the book who liked to beat Willy. «She must be from an orphanage,» I thought because the woman’s face didn’t express anything.
The strange lady came closer, peered at me, and…
«You damned freak,» she said almost in a whisper. «When are you going to die?»
«Hello,» I answered and asked, «Excuse me, who are you?»
«You little shit!» the woman aimed a blow at me.
Then the door opened abruptly, and someone in doctor’s clothes prevented her from hitting me. Later, the police arrived, and more doctors asked me something, but something was buzzing in my ears and didn’t let me understand what was going on. I couldn’t hear anything and was looking at the people around me in confusion, but they didn’t understand that I couldn’t hear, and then the machine by the bed flashed, and the lights went off.
«Do you understand me?»
That doctor was standing right in front of me again. He was looking into my eyes as if trying to read something there, but I didn’t care.
«I understand,» I nodded, and the lights went out again.
The next time I woke up, they did something to me. It wasn’t scary, I only wondered why they were sticking a tube in… well, «there’. They also did something to my bottom, but it wasn’t painful. Then, the word «hospice’ came up, and I knew I was dying. I was upset because people die in hospices for a long time and suffer (I heard stories about this when I was Mariana), but I wanted to die quickly. But a man who looked like an angel (he even had a halo 2 ) came and said there would be no hospice because he would take me away. I understood that the man was Death because it’s male in Germany. I was very happy and agreed – well, that he would take me. And the man who was Death told me that now everything would be fine and we would all live in a big house, bright and comfortable. I chuckled because I’d never heard anyone describe a grave to me like that before.
2
When the lamp illuminates from behind, the doctor may look like they have a halo around their head, especially if the patient’s vision is failing.
It must have been a month before they pulled a tube out of… – well, out of «there’ – and put me in a wheelchair, which, of course, made me cry. Some curly-haired boy, whom Mr. Death called «son’, appeared beside me. It turned out that Death had children too, so only I was alone and unwanted. That boy, who was Death’s son, caressed me and began to ask me not to fear because everything would be all right. Then he hugged me, and I prepared to die.
«What are you doing?» the boy asked me.