When I woke up next to the bed sat a mother. Her face was ... None. In such cases, to say that the person on it was not. I smiled sadly in reply. She took my hand and began stroking her.
- Mom? And where Oksana? - I asked.
- Do not worry, she was safe and well. At least, physically, - Hoarse voice, swallowing a lump, she replied.
- I know. And where is she now?
- gone. Home.
- How to go? I'm also here ...
- Masha went to bury - from suddenly struck me pain, I pressed sheets.
- How to bury?
- Do not keep it the same week in the morgue.
- As a week?
- You're three days was unconscious. Then a little recovered and relapsed into unconsciousness. Wait longer was no longer possible.
- But she had not even gone!
- a grudge it to you, blames the death of Masha. Says that if you did not drive and watch the road ...
- I watched? If she had not climbed back to me blocking the review. If it had not unfastened Maschke belt on his chair ... But what now say - I stopped. Fly yesterday вечер ушел на перебор вариантов, как бы я стал действовать, будь у меня вторая попытка. И никак я не выходил виноватым. Не видел я того грузовика. И если бы Оксана not climbed back, everything would have happened. And Maria would be alive. Would have been ...
mother sat for another hour and then left. It is a time to live with her uncle, Wasi - more than was not at whom, I asked her the next time bring my imaginary cousin. Hospital Hospital, and the business business. The mother asked me to bring a laptop, thanks to my things did they found debit cards: previous laptop was a rubbish broken in the accident, as my phone's address book, from which the mother did not guess remove sim card when I was in the parking lot, where my broken cuckoo audit.
happened that I fell for the week of virtual reality. On the other hand, cases I have in this reality so short that my disappearance would only emphasize my desire to get out of the Internet business in the eyes of partners and onlookers.
However, where the more I thought about the accident, turning over in his memory that he did what she did Oksana. I searched the reason why I gave in and took a trip his girlfriend and her child, although a direct need for this was not. I tried to understand why suddenly vyprygul this ill-fated truck, and if I could get away from him. At least in my fevered imagination, I tried to change the past.
I guess at this point that I was deprived of the phone - it was good. I could not get calls. But could not and call yourself: Oksana, Vladimir, Anton. Could not they yell, complain, ponyt, ask sympathy, fret and fume, humiliated and crying. I It was painful and there was nobody to say about it. Even the hospital staff were avoided to go once again to my room.
The next morning the uncle Vasya went with a laptop. He said that the company is essentially gone. The next day, Anton had a conversation with the staff - some of whom offered a place in the new company, while others fired. Dismissed almost everyone who hired me. Where the office of the new company Uncle Vasya not know, and it has been important. I asked him to pick up all the documents and office equipment from the old office to themselves and to close the lease. With the sale of gadget has been finished. We had to figure out what to do now.
I opened my laptop, connect to your GSM-modem to the network, but was unable to work. Thoughts returned again to the day of the accident. Had to postpone the computer side. And the next day he was lying there. And the day after tomorrow.
mother brought my new phone, where there was no room in the book. I dialed the number from memory Oksana - unavailable. He looked inquiringly at his mother, but she just shrugged his shoulders. For some reason I thought that it was not a funeral. Oksana just tried to shield themselves from communicating with me. Do not come any hospital, called the old number disabled or changed. This thought was very painful. And sickening. At times, I called her a heartless bitch, and quietly weeping into a pillow, quickly wiping the tears if stopped by the ward nurse.
Slowly I went to the amendment. Bone - no skin, slow fuse. But a month later I removed the plaster and gave stroller for walking along the corridor: to walk even on crutches, I could not. The doctor shook his head, chasing an X-ray and a physical therapist, but his legs refused to obey, although the heat or cold felt. "Not all is lost" - these words became the motto of anyone who communicates with me at that time. Doctors, relatives or acquaintances. I even began to slowly believe in it: in a wheelchair, dead baby, nearly abandoned his wife, destroyed businesses, destroyed reputations and rapidly melting savings. I reveled in self-pity, and hoping for a miracle.
miracle has not happened. I left the hospital to meet the first spring sun in his wheelchair. Uncle Bob, who became to me almost uncle, took me to his room and committed: "Live as necessary." I lived. I slept until dinner, then went to the toilet, a little brush up a bit ate and then move back to my room to sleep, or stupidly, not knowing actually watch TV. In the evening from work came Uncle Vasya, looked me in the room to find out how I am. Then we had dinner and I went to bed.
One day Uncle Vasya pulled me out of the room to the kitchen, pulled out of the fridge a bottle of vodka and ordered: "Drink!" I drank a hundred grams, then another hundred. Then Uncle Vasya and poured himself. And again to me. I was taken.
- old man - began Uncle Vasya. - I understand you. You think you lost it all: child, wife, money, health. But it's not so old. You have not yet twenty years. And all you have ahead. A little God gives so much experience at that age. But sometimes must stop and look not backward but forward. It is possible that more and more just there.
- Yes I know - I muttered, braiding.
- You do not understand. Do you think that already will never happen. But it is not. Yes, you have a history of sutures. But it has already happened. This is not correct, you torment yourself though every day until the end of life. Why turn the rest of my life in hell? Come on.
- No, you do not understand - I tried to argue. - If she had not stood up, I would have noticed ...
- No, you do not understand. Everything! You're in a wheelchair, her daughter in the grave, his wife dumped. What next? Cover and crawl to the cemetery?
- No, you do not understand! - But suggested that I could not, confused.
- Leave past alone. It you just say thank you for it.
- Well, - I was not inclined to argue.
- That's good, drink - Uncle Vasya poured into a glass remnants. I swallowed и почувствовал, как к горлу подкатил тошнотворный шар. Меня вырвало.
Весь следующий день я пролежал с больной головой. Есть у похмелья свои преимущества. Unprecedented sense of liberation. As if yesterday's vomit claimed all his thoughts, tearing my brain before. Probably the first time since the accident I did not scroll in the head events of that day. Just lay there and stared at the ceiling.
evening I opened the laptop and connected to the Internet. It's time to go back to the network.
My reputation has been in tatters, my staff had fled, my wallet was bursting with the number of the claim. Affiliate site itself was hacked and defaces - on the main Page wore a sign that I was - tossed. My empire of skeletons were left alone. I have disabled web hosting, has got a new purse and mail went through forums, figuring, which today is dominated by the idea. Nothing has changed. Instead sms now planted on the subscription selling air. Industry sales of options given bias towards links placed not at the time, but forever. And there are many new commercial affiliate. Somehow my work to promote gadgets though nothing happened, but given the market a kick in sales of real goods. However, maybe I'm exaggerating its impact on the community of webmasters.
I began by searching for new employees. Work myself, I did not want to - who once tried to lead, is unlikely to abandon it if the wall is not pripret. And I still had enough money to pay a modest salary pair webmasters who started slowly build for me a small service, designed to make life easier for those who needed targeted traffic from search engines. Visitors can collect the banners, but you can make thousands of their sites, each to leave the trap and send captured Visitors to the site the buyer of such traffic. Thirty dollars per thousand visitors on selected key phrases. I really liked this idea. I'm broke the task of creating machine between the two programmers, and he engaged in the formation environment for shoppers.
I talked again for days on forums, vstrevaya even the slightest discussion, got himself a twitter, facebook profile. All this was a new mask: another nick, another behavior, but I treated it as a single - I was determined to leave the past where it and was supposed to be. The more I got into a new skin, the less exhausting back to thoughts of what might would be if I did ...
only thing that I did not do - it start a blog. Instead, I became a little write everything that happened to me in five years, usual Ward. I wrote, read, edit out and re-described as remembered. This was to be the memoirs Moneymaker my way to earn money, my confession.
I was surprised to himself joined classmates in under his real name, and exchanged letters with Nicholas. He promised to visit me as soon as able - by the end of the school year in his high school was still a couple of months.
But the main events in my life, I started off-line. I decided firmly and finally move in Samara. Return to the city, where every corner reminds me of my mistakes, I thought wrong. In addition, I became the burdens of life with Uncle Vasya - I wanted to live separately, as he and reported. Uncle Bob patted me on the shoulder and said that he now sees that I went to the amendment.
mother to my attorney has sold grandmother's apartment, I added the remains of their money, plus fines of insurance for the wrecked car and bought a one bedroom apartment in a residential area of \u200b\u200bSamara. Probably if I had a blog, I would have done pictures and wrote that he earned the apartment - Webmasters love this show. The apartment was on the ground floor of apartment building with comfortable sidewalks, that to me in my kolyasochnom state was an opportune moment.
Despite the fact that I regularly visited by the doctors, they continued to breed hands - to stand on their feet in my near future is not threatened. And it was the only bad news lately. Its service for the sale of traffic, I finally started, and he began to show a small but pleasant results. I again began to earn money online. Assume funny, at times smaller than before, but are encouraging.
the end of April my condition finally improved so much that I decided. I asked the mother svozit himself on the grave of Masha, a Oksana buried in the cemetery of my hometown. Our expedition lasted for two weeks, because the one I dared not even go by train, and his mother again, exhausting отпусков за свой счет, не могла отпроситься с работы.
Я намеренно взял сразу билеты обратно на тот же день. Я боялся. Боялся, что столкнусь с Оксаной и столь my fragile equilibrium to collapse under her accusing stare.
I arrived early in the morning. Mother to call a taxi directly to the train, which took me to the cemetery. She knew place, so that the circle was not necessary. A small granite monument, a tiny photo, light green shoots on the dirt hill. I felt in my throat looms lump. All of a sudden convulsive pang. I closed my eyes and turned away, muttering, "Forgive, forgive, forgive ..." The mother, sensing my state, the carriage rolled away.
Conversely, I took the tickets only for themselves. Mother helped me get into the car and sit in his place. We said goodbye in the car, and then she came and stood front of the window until the train moved off. Mother figure slowly disappeared from sight, I continued to look at the platform suddenly became very strange city. Suddenly box to the station Departuring eyes discerned a female figure, she looked at my window. Oksana. Learned, after all. Or know what I'm coming. But it is not approached. All of the balance that allowed me to hold up to that time had collapsed. Rest of the way to Samara I spent in silence, staring at one point in the window. The past does not like me release, as I have not tried.
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