A week later I was left on the threshold of the orphanage. Aunt Lida assured me that she would come and visit me, but I was silent, not knowing what to answer her. After standing for a minute, but without waiting for my answer, she hugged me, kissed me on the forehead, and quietly walked away.

My later life, spent within the walls of the orphanage, was one never-ending nightmare. All the days merged into one and the memories were confused. I remember the first time I crossed the threshold of the girls' bedroom, under the gaze of orphans, embittered at the whole world, just like me.

I remember the first time I was hit by a neighbor in the ward, because I did not want to show her my photo album - the last memory left of my family. That time they cut my eyebrow, split my lower lip and tore all the photos into keys. Destroyed the only thread that connects me to the past. Then, for the first time, the realization came to me that I was now alone.

At first, I still hoped that Andrei would return. I saw in a dream how he runs into my ward, picks me up, hugs me and takes me forever from this terrible place. And even after half a year spent in the shelter, I continued to believe and wait for his arrival.

My faith lasted for a year before I finally broke down. I think this happened after I was beaten again in the toilet by two guys who dragged me there just to make fun of me. It was on that day, lying on the cold tiles and afraid to get up, in case the boys were still somewhere nearby, that I fully understood that I had no one left.

At that moment, not that small and weak Katyusha rose from the floor, naively waiting for someone who could protect her. No. At that very moment, a new man was born - a man ready for anything to survive.

Since then, I no longer cried at night and did not wait for Andrey. I tore the name out of myself. I mentally buried him with our parents. Only his grave was not in the cemetery, but in my own heart ... And yes, I didn’t allow anyone to offend myself anymore. Of course, they didn’t stop beating and insulting me, the orphanage is a wild place, and they live in it only according to the law of the jungle.

But in response to pushes and blows, I hit back. With screams and squeals, I threw myself at my offenders, tore and bit, beat and scratched. With each new year spent in the orphanage, I became more and more gloomy, withdrawn and angry at the whole world. I deliberately didn't make friends or get close to anyone. Somewhere in the very core of my childhood soul, there is a simple equation deeply rooted - intimacy = disappointment = suffering = pain. I didn't want more pain. Physical discomfort did not frighten me, while I was afraid of mental suffering like fire and did everything not to experience this feeling again. Memories of the family, of the old me... and of him (I no longer allowed myself to pronounce his name, even in my head) receded into the background, dimmed, and many disappeared altogether somewhere in the depths of the subconscious.

Aunt Lida at the beginning visited me very often - every month. But I didn't need that link to the past. I tried with all my might to cut off any threads left from my past life, so it was easier for me. I did not make contact with her, I was rude and angry, and sometimes I completely refused to leave the bedroom when she came to me. Therefore, her visits over time became less and less. Eventually, she only came for the holidays to bring some home-cooked food, usually pies or buns she made.

The orphanage became my cemetery and at the same time the place of my rebirth. Within the walls of the shelter, a new I was born, forever burying those last bits of love and hope that once lived in me.

Chapter 2. Katya

"Is it strange that you have no use for wandering if you drag yourself around everywhere?" Socrates

You take off your evening dress, facing the wall,

And I see fresh scars on your velvet-smooth back,

I want to cry in pain or lose myself in a dream,

Where are your wings that I liked so much?

(Nautilus "Wings")

9 years later.

I wake up to the bright sun shining through the half-drawn curtains in the girls' bedroom. Roommates scurry about in their beds, stretch, and, dragging their feet heavily, trudge to the showers. I'm not in a hurry, although I know that soon everyone will be driven to breakfast and I would like, in fact, to have time to at least brush my teeth. Nevertheless, I continue to lie in bed and observe the general everyday turmoil of the morning. Now it's summer, my studies are over, my last exams have been passed, and I'm incredibly glad that for the first time in the last few months, I can finally afford not to rush, not to be nervous, not to chase, but just lie relaxed, cross my legs and clasp my hands behind my head .

- Sokolova, are you especially privileged? Opening my eyes, I see the teacher staring at me with a displeased look. - Everyone is invited to breakfast, or have you suddenly gone deaf? So I will quickly return your hearing to you.

I look at her for a couple of seconds, trying to come up with some kind of taunt in response, but my brain has been working sluggishly since morning, so I just lazily stretch out:

- Yes, I'm going already. What, Nina Alexandrovna, without me a piece does not climb into the throat? And I rush to brush my teeth.

- Keep in mind, if at exactly eight in the morning I don’t see your impudent muzzle in the dining room, you’ll stay scrubbing the pots. You know me - she threatens.

- I know I know. I scream at the door. - Don't worry so much. And you will not have time to miss my face. - and without waiting for an answer, I run to the bathroom.

- Insolent - I hear a cry from the ward. Nina Alexandrovna is our tutor, a strict woman who loves order and discipline, but in her soul she is not at all malicious. I never take her harsh tone seriously because I know it's all fake. She, in turn, is not angry with me for my intemperance in speech and behavior, although she grumbles regularly because of this, and punishes me often, but not severely. In general, I like the way our, so to speak, business relations are developing with her. We are, as it were, on the same wavelength, so to speak. In any case, we understand each other.

The dining room is noisy and stuffy, smells of porridge and cocoa. sitting at the table, without appetite, I pick at the oatmeal with a spoon, resting my chin with my left hand. I don’t have a love for food at all, which is probably why I’m so thin. With my height of 158 cm, I weigh only 42 kg, although my chest has grown, a little truth, but what it is.

How many points did you get in algebra? - the question of the girl sitting next to me brings me out of a trance.

- I do not remember. - I mutter in response, not wanting to enter into a dialogue.

What can't you even remember? - the neighbor on the table does not let up.