Chemistry class

She comes every day at the same time. All so beautiful, like an orchid, and how prickly, like a rose. And I began to come earlier, I do not remember how many days, weeks, or perhaps flew through two months. She takes time, but I don't mind. Time is glitter. It sticks to a person and he becomes, probably, addicted. Sequins shimmer on the body, and you are spellbound. A sentence of love, but only for a while.

I am being eaten by these yellow, nasty walls at seven in the morning, which seemed to narrow, gouge out my eyes, and I look with an empty gaze at the profile of the girl who was sitting in front of me. Blonde hair - they lay tangled on her back. I wanted to pull them out, like my heart, which again fills with chemistry. Chemistry hurts again, because it is created from the elements of the periodic table. Potassium cyanide is mixed with water and the sprout is watered, but it does not bloom. He dies from a chemical substance... as dangerous as acid rain in the desert under the scorching sun thousands of kilometers from the oasis.

O beautiful rose, save the wretched basil!

Her school uniform sat like a bag on her innocent body, and her painted eyelashes flapped, looking out the dirty window, where snowflakes flew, dissolving in the frosty air. The street is empty, as if everything has disappeared. Only we remained: the orchid rose and the dying basil.

How I want to die!

It was cold outside - my vibe. Winter is me, just as cynical and merciless. But she was only associated with my former love: a girl named Lisa, who is perfectly able to lie and take cheap sequins. I don't even remember her anymore, but her red hair, like a witch, burned like my heart four years ago.

And now it's melting again. Fire melts ice - I look at Juliana. I just want to hit her head on the desk and get rid of her; I want her to run away from me with cries for help; I want ... I just want her to bleed, and my hands were in red-scarlet paint and words of memorized chemistry flew out of my mouth. Two years have passed, it's time to return to the army of pain and pleasure, fighting for the other with the help of the first.

Oh chemistry, take me to your garden!

- Romanova? - I whispered and she turned to me.

Her greens were carefully examining me. Emerald nature blossomed in the eyes. They are two documentaries, one about the beauty of life and the other about death. The pale face was covered with a slight blush, and I smiled slightly. Water is visible in her eyes - the water of a quiet, without waves, ocean. Sequins fall into it, taking away the silence.

Oh, forest nymph, let me understand you!

- What do you want, Vlad? - she squeezed out, obviously, with a displeased tone.

Juliana is the complete opposite of Lisa: she cannot lie, although she has a very sharp tongue; all sides are raging in it: black, white and red, fighting for the first place; smooth facial features cannot be compared with anything, unless after my own death I will understand this; she is very thin: her arms seem to be simply covered with pale, marbled skin, and her bones stretch for kilometers - there are one hundred and forty-seven and several million in length. And she certainly wore red lipstick - the red side of the rose-orchid girl clearly won here.

— Vlad? - the girl asked, not understanding why I did not answer her.

Lisa took two years, which became useless. I turned love into cheap sequins in a stall for five rubles. I was suffering for no reason now. I remember: a sharp pain seized me and my heart. She tore it, and it burned with love for the witch. Then I could not even think that I would suffer from the lesson that fate taught me.

I would like to look at myself from the outside. How pathetic was I? I killed myself with the feeling that it was growing in my chest again and like a vine, clasping my lungs.

I can not breathe without you!

I wanted to despise, I wanted to hate, but the red-haired beast played with me. She turned my life into hell and my heart into ice.

Lisa worked as a puppeteer, and I was a useless toy in the hands of a relentless knock on the door that sounded forty-nine months ago.

I wanted to admire her, I wanted to admire her poisonous beauty.

I wanted to love, but she didn't.

Indifference appeared in me - a state of complete indifference, disinterest.

I was a dead and suffering teenager, and now I am alive, who wants to again become a toy corpse in the bony hands of a little princess.

But she didn't knock on my life. Only she stood in front of the golden gates and begged to let her into paradise, where angels-fountains splash and heroes drink, that they saved their souls, but not their compatriot friends. And I stood on the sidelines, smoking a cigarette and thinking about sparkles. Why is this miracle not allowed into paradise - a place for people like her?

Lisa was a sugary deception that beckoned to rejoice because of him. A mirror that didn't reflect her true self.

She is an inhuman witch, but she was a beautiful queen.

- Can you hear me? - Juliana could not stand it and hit me on the shoulder.

How much fire is in it!

He melts my heart. I smiled like a fool, looking into green eyes, green eyes full of rage. They hide a different world - the world of nature ... They are just as beautiful and beautiful. I would like to describe them in novels and poems, if only to leave in memory. So that, reading your miserable creations, remember her, about chemistry and this lesson. I like how they calm the waves of pain in me. I liked how she dreamed about me, and I seemed to disappear. I wanted to disappear into her emeralds again and again... to dream of her.

Love is cigarettes. From both of them there is only pleasure, pain, burning and smoke that wraps around weak lungs and suffocates, forcing them to cough and spit out all their bile, cold and becomes as transparent as regret and sorrow. Or gray, like all the people on the planet called "Suffering from cigarettes."

She is the very spot that differs from the dampness of all mankind. The blond hair saves from pain. She is my angel that she will hear, run into my arms, cry on my shoulder and kiss. Everyone needs a keeper who will protect you from the smoke that paralyzes your body.

I want to protect this angel from evil. Take to your place. Bury your fingers in your hair and inhale her scent, which frees your lungs from the smoke. Makes you breathe and smile.

The knock on the door was the finish line. There are no golden gates on which several thousand locks hang, but there is only one key to them. A white door with cracked paint bounces off the sound, and someone enters. Gray humanity noisily enters and takes all the air, leaving only smoke.

Oh, my princess, put me out of my misery!

Nature again makes beautiful sounds of singing - she speaks. Juliana is angry, and I smile. In the middle of all Cigarette Sufferers, she will save me: I know.

Sharpness - rudeness, tactlessness, directness, impetuosity.

— Teach me chemistry, please.

Oh, my mania, please disappear, dissolve in the air!