Janka said, “He’s going to kill you!” I said, “No one can kill me, I’m already an angel!” Then I kissed her. Janka said, “Where are we gonna hide this?” I said, “Where else?” and stuffed that money-roll back into my cunt.
Never never never, not under no circumstance, never be ashamed of yourself, Janka!
It was just one of those days when too many things happened at the same time. Mr Bolshakov found himself alone with me after class, pinned me to the wall and pulled a fork out of his pocket, trying to whisper with his onion-breath that he’d scrape my little cunt out. “Whoever said it was little,” I huffed back. “I got a fatty, Mr Bolshakov!” He pinched his eyebrows, what a dullard, so I grabbed the fork out of his hand, stuffed it in my jeans, gave him my signature two-finger salute, then got the hell out of there!
Yeah, I was running, thinking of my mamka actually, that she might even be a little delighted to have an extra fork in the kitchen, cause she was always complaining how the neighbours were stealing our silverware. But when I got home, Mamka was not in the best of moods, her fingernails were already itching at her woollen skirt. Then she saw me and her mouth wreaked of loathing. I pulled out the fork and said, “Here, Mamka, a present for you.” She grabbed the fork out of my hand and started screaming about how the police had come around for me again, and in the name of mercy couldn’t I stop with my shit and be less defunct. I said, “Listen, Mamka, I am a fallen angel.” She started chasing me with the fork, and I thought oh fuck. I ducked and jumped, and still managed to flip her off (cause, come on), then she screamed “you malá narcis!” and then I screamed back “I THOUGHT I WAS THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!” and then I could hear the neighbours coming out into the hallway to see what was up. I was running around our small apartment, bouncing from corner to corner, cause Mamka had a fork like a machete, and she was serious. I reached beneath the sofa to where I knew Mamka kept her vodka bottle, then flipped open the closet and grabbed her prized fox-fur coat and she howled, “You put that down, you put that down,” but I sprinted to the door, and down the stairs and I was gone.
Mamka must have run to the window just then. She never had good aim, in all the years I’d known her, but I was running in one direction, past the neighbours’ faces like a lie, crunching over the snow, cold slapping at my cheeks, when I heard the shriek, it could only belong to one person – my mother. Before I could turn around, I felt it, like some cold metal beast clenched its claws into my shoulder. It knocked me to my knees and my face slumped into the snow. I was pushing myself back up, saying to myself, get up, Zorka, get up. I reached my hand around to my shoulder and felt it there, the fork, stuck deep inside my flesh. I wriggled it, and almost vomited straight up. Come on, Zorka! I held my breath, grabbed that fork, and pulled that motherfucker out. It spat a perfect arc of blood into the snow. My shoulder felt like I just pulled a grown wing outta my body. Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit. I picked up Mamka’s fox-fur coat and got on running.
After that, well, I only came back once – some days later – and it was night-time. I doused that fur coat with the whole bottle of vodka; then I left it to burn in the hallway, fuck and adieu.
Say hi to the boys, the river and the forest.
Then it struck me like an alarm. What have I done? I mean about Jana, you know. Years have a way of speeding up at a certain point. I thought either I’m gonna kill Mamka or Mamka’s gonna kill me. Guess that’s when I started asking for angels. You wouldn’t understand.
Anyways I had the dream. Never saw children that had a lethal buzz to them like that – except for Jana maybe, ha. Lucifer’s kiddies – my kind of crowd. So, yeah, I made a wish. That’s what dreams are for.
And maybe it was selfish. But they don’t call me the Malá Narcis for nothing!
The short of it was I was scared I’d never outgrow my misgivings. I’m all alone and I’m a piece of shit, I kept repeating. I was asking for help.
Woke up to the smell of apples and oranges.
It’s a secret
0_hotgirlAmy_0: Don’t tell anyone.
Dominxxika_N39: I will not gossip or speak of it, this I am promise! Please tell me…
0_hotgirlAmy_0: *smile
0_hotgirlAmy_0: I’m gonna whisper it to u…
Dominxxika_N39: My ear is ready for ur whisper.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: I…
0_hotgirlAmy_0: love
0_hotgirlAmy_0: you, Dominika.
Dominxxika_N39: O Amy.
Dominxxika_N39: O my Amy!
Dominxxika_N39: O my beauty, my angel, my sexy girl!
Dominxxika_N39: I love u so great I have not find words to say, if I say it, I have to say it million times, like million rosebuds, like million leaf tips, like million gold reflections in the quiet field, I love you Amy I love you!
0_hotgirlAmy_0: *mega smile
Dominxxika_N39: I want u, sexy Amy.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: Me too… I want to look into ur blue eyes. And touch ur dark hair. And I want to… do so many things…! All day long, I don’t care, like at all at all at all. I don’t even care. I just wanna go home and go online and be with you.
Dominxxika_N39: When I alone and my husband double-lock door, so I no go out, I put one arm around other and I feel u there, inside my embrace.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: I am I am I am!
Dominxxika_N39: I get so sad, because I am locked inside and cannot see u and cannot be with you. I want to feel u for real and be with you for real.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: We can be, we can! Archangel Michael is on our side. He’s guiding me to u every day. And I even looked on the map. And like if I fly into Prague, we can meet up. From Vaclav Havel Airport I can take the 119 bus to Nadrazi Veleslavin, then take the A subway 5 stops and get off at Staromestska, it’s near the old Jewish cemetery on the map. Will u meet me there? No one will see us. Will u?
Dominxxika_N39: Yes! Yes yes! But how I get out? U don’t understand, Amy. Every night I dream u are outside door. I can hear u and I can feel u on other side of door, but it is lock and I cannot get out and you cannot get in. When I awake, I want to tear down wall with my nails. But my sexy Amy, how can I explain to u how I live? My husband put iron bars on window because he is suspicious. And door frame he make of iron too. It is impossible. Even if I put fire to door, it is only I who burn inside.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: Don’t do that!
0_hotgirlAmy_0: Archangel Michael will help us! I’m sure he will!
Fight the dyke
There was a good half-year when Zorka was not aggressive or hostile, just a bit distant and pensive. She was doing her homework, not walking out of school, not flipping off the hall monitors, not yelling back and forth at her mother, not skipping dinner to sit in the forest.
But then Jared brushed against her in the hallway, as she was getting her history book out of her locker, and she snapped around, grabbed his hand, and slammed it in her locker door. It happened so quickly that the boy couldn’t even yell out, he just stood there with a blurry face, holding his slammed hand at his wrist, with his mouth gaping silent. Then he started shaking his hand out and shrieking, “You fucking psycho!!” Jared pushed Zorka against the lockers and all the kids backed up and a couple started chanting “fight the dyke, fight the dyke”, then a teacher came out and the students scattered. Jared showed the teacher his hand, already white and throbbing, with the red indent of where it was slammed. “She broke my hand!” he exclaimed in cramped voice.