Always Visible (Another Prayer for The Dying Horror Genre)

[VitalyIvolginsky]

Almost the entire territory of the valley, spread out at the very foot of the mountains, was occupied by a rich fair, which attracted people from all over the area. There was something to stare at: colourful tents, flashy signs and stalls from which they traded all sorts of things. It seemed that each store tried to surprise customers with something unusual, each merchant sought to outdo competitors and stand out from the crowd of their own kind. Between the tents bustled cheerful and noisy youngsters, serious and sedate adults, as well as bilious and gloomy gaffers. They were all united by one common property – all as one vied with each other touted their product and urged their purchasers not to be stingy and spend more money.

It was amusing how sincerely passers-by believed the hucksters at their word – probably, it was the eternal need for entertainment and spectacles. No one paid attention to the fact that merchants often give goods to customers at a price several times higher than their cost, and their quality was far from always up to par. A sane person would never have bought here all the rubbish that was put up for sale here, but this fair was like that – no matter how you walk on it, you still buy something. And generally such fun reigned in the shopping arcade that it was sometimes completely incomprehensible to an outsider who was selling, who was buying, and who was just idly staggering between the rows, staring at merchandise on display.

On holidays, the cries of people, which the wind carried far around, did not subside day or night. Today, despite the fact that according to the calendar it was the twenty-ninth of June – Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, selling was held in complete silence, except for the rare ringing of bells coming from the tents placed throughout the space of the fair. Clouds were gathering in the sky, but there was no rain yet.

On this day, only at the very entrance to the fair, several sellers were sitting in their places, who were languidly talking to each other and throwing lazy glances towards the huge circus tent – main attraction of this place. Its motley tarpaulin was decorated for the holiday with garlands of colourful balloons and brightly coloured paper flags. Not a soul was in chapiteau – it seemed that all its artists, acrobats and conjurers amicably left their places a few days before the holiday, and now its curtains fluttered in the cold wind that blew over the valley.

Suddenly, a desperate cry flew to the ears of the only participants in the fair at the moment, so unexpected that all five people – four merchants and one onlooker – involuntarily shuddered in their places. And then, right in front of their eyes, Sweaty Subject ran into the fair with a leather folder under his arm.

"Please, somebody help me!", heartrendingly screamed this person.

"What happened to him?", wondered Confectionery Countermen, wrapping the lollipop in cling film.

"It's obvious he's running from someone!", answered him Pottery Peddler, cleaning an old ceramic crock.

"Interestingly, from the beast?", guessed Raggery Retailer, shaking dust out of mat.

"It seems to me that from a human", suggested Toy Trader, embroidering toy dresses for new dolls.

"Either way, he needs support!", intervened Weariless Woodcutter, who was just goofing around.

Sweaty Subject, shrinking his whole body, continued to run forward. His folder opened and white sheets of paper flew out into the air. Meanwhile, a distant rumble of thunder reached the ears of the assembled.

"One-Who-That-Never-Visible chasing after me!", he cried out even more desperately.

"Didn't understand who he talking about?", asked Confectionery Countermen, placing candy on a tray.

"Why can't the pursuer can't be seen?", echoed him Pottery Peddler, put down his pot.

"Maybe because he is not visible?", answered them both Raggery Retailer, hanging a rug on the wall.

"How is this possible?", growled Toy Trader, putting the puppets in the crate.

"Whatever the case, something was fishy!", concluded Weariless Woodcutter, rolled up the sleeves.

Without making out his way, Sweaty Subject gradually approached the circus tent. The papers that spilled out of his folder scattered randomly in different directions, but no one paid attention to this, because their owner suddenly froze in place and slowly rose up half a meter above the ground.

"Save me, somebody save me!", the stranger shouted hoarsely.

"Friends, just look at this!", exclaimed Confectionery Countermen, looking at how Sweaty Subject fluttered in the air.

"Someone has grabbed him and now holding!", gasped Pottery Peddler, watching the stranger bulge his eyes and panting.

"But I don't see anyone!", said in bewilderment Raggery Retailer, seeing as Sweaty Subject began to swing back and forth.

"Think, this isn't a game…", muttered Toy Trader, when the stranger suddenly flew to the ground.

"So what are you waiting for, let's hurry to help him!", cheered up the merchants Weariless Woodcutter, bending his arms at the elbows.

In the meantime, Sweaty Subject relish crashed on his face and sprawled out on the grass with his arms outstretched. The marketeers were already preparing to rush to his aid, when they suddenly saw how the huge dome of the tent began to slowly fall to the ground, as if someone had dropped the strong pillars supporting it.

"Hey, who is stealing my goods?", squealed in fright Confectionery Countermen, when lollipops suddenly began to disappear from his counter.

"Who's beating my dishes?", shouted Pottery Peddler, dodging ceramic shards flying in his face.

"Get this sheet off me!", called out Raggery Retailer, floundering under a veil thrown over by someone.

"It was painful", hooted Toy Trader, when the soccer ball hit his solar plexus.

"Just you wait!", growled Weariless Woodcutter, rubbing the bruise under the eye.

Like it or not, but Sweaty Subject spoke the pure truth – some invisible force penetrated into the fair. There was no time to delay. Confectionery Countermen helped Raggery Retailer get out from under the velvet cover embroidered with gold patterns, and all four merchants, led by Weariless Woodcutter, began to keep the council.

"My hot caramel will burn scoundrel's skin!", bleated in a nasty voice Confectionery Countermen, grabbing a aluminum saute pan from the stove.

"With sharp shards I will shower the grass on which he will pass!", yelled Pottery Peddler, picking up the pieces of the broken pot in a bag.

"I'll try to gouge out his eyes with scissors!", roared Raggery Retailer, rummaging through the closet

"People, you don't really see him…", rightly noticed Toy Trader, put on boxing gloves just in case.

"Anyway, he can't resist it!", said with fighting zeal Weariless Woodcutter, picking up his sharpened hatchet from the ground.

The impressive appearance of this weapon immediately reassured the merchants – they realized that the axe would protect them anyway, so they gave up trying to arm themselves with something and ran in single file for Weariless Woodcutter towards the fallen tent. The next minute there was a rumble of thunder throughout the valley, and a downpour fell from the heavens onto the fair. This whim of nature confused people, and they involuntarily froze in place while cold streams of rain whipped their heads and clothes.

"Look! Watch up there!", audibly called out Confectionery Countermen, attracting the attention of other marketeers.

"My lord, what I see!?", could not suppress his surprise Pottery Peddler, gazing at the vague outline of a human silhouette standing in the middle of the trampled grass

"Great, he became visible", thoughtfully said Raggery Retailer, looking at the translucent, as if made of glass figure.

"It's all because of the rain…", muttered darkly Toy Trader, realizing what was the matter.

"Whatever it was, it must be get'em immediately!", shaking an hatchet, shouted Weariless Woodcutter

Four vendors in a bunch, to say nothing of the rubberneck, began to slowly – step by step – approach the human figure, which stood motionless five meters from the motley canvas of the tent lying on the grass. From the outside, this event looked as if predatory wolves encircled a defenseless lamb in order to tear it apart – which was not so far from the truth, if you remember how strongly the primitive instinct to destroy their own kind is developed in every person.

"Come to your senses, I have not harmed thou!", suddenly, a beautiful young voice rang out.

"Just hear, it turns out he knows how to talk!", hissed Confectionery Countermen.

"What are you justifying?!", barked angrily Pottery Peddler to the human figure.

"Guys, don't let him go!", shouted Raggery Retailer.

"One-Who-That-Never-Visible is not that invisible!", amazedly said Toy Trader.

Weariless Woodcutter without saying a word – he dashed forward bravely towards translucent silhouette standing motionless in the grass. Back-swing, and the hatched fell on the glass head.

"Shield your eyes!", warned the others Pottery Peddler.

Confectionery Countermen with Raggery Retailer put their hands up to faces, and Toy Trader plugged his ears. However, what was their surprise when the glass human figure did not break into thousands of sharp fragments, but only silently fell on the grass.

"Then it serves you right!", resounded a cheerful voice of Weariless Woodcutter.

The merchants took their hands off heads and approached their saviour, who was looking down at the grass. They followed his example and did not believe their eyes.

"Well, for heaven's sakes…", groaned Confectionery Countermen, seeing the transparent body of an adult lying on the ground.

"A masterpiece of the glass making", quoth Pottery Peddler, looking at the perfectly smooth features of the glass statue.

"Hey he's warm and mild!", cried with wonder Raggery Retailer, touching his chest.

"Oh, what are those?", shouted in fright Toy Trader, when the glass surface suddenly began to flicker and become covered with dark stains

"Get back from it, now!", ordered Weariless Woodcutter.

Merchants with onlooker backed away from the statue lying in the grass, which in the meantime began to take colour – as if someone's invisible hand applied oil paints to the glass figures. Limbs were pink first, then stained the chest and stomach, and then all five watchers stand in awe when they saw the beautiful young face – there was no anxiety or abhorrence in the youth's eyes, he just gazed serenely straight up at the cloudy sky.

"So it wasn't a beast…", mumbled Confectionery Countermen, shivering from the cold streams of rain.

"This is a true human, just like us", whispered sadly Pottery Peddler, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"So immature… And what a peaceful sight he has…", as if in a trance noticed Raggery Retailer.

"We killed him! He is not breathing, his heart is not beating!", cried out Toy Trader, recovering from stun.

Weariless Woodcutter refrained from commenting. Instead, he silently tossed his hatchet aside and, pulling off his knitted hat, froze in place, clutching it in his hands. An awful silence followed his deed, and each of those standing next to the deceased felt his responsibility for what he had done. It's been four minutes, and gathered people decided they'd had enough, began to disperse, but before they had time to take two steps, the ground shook under their feet.

"Oh, God! It's an… …quake!", swallowing words, yelled Confectionery Countermen, falling on the land.

There was such a rumble in the air that no one heard his words, but each of them saw with horror how the earth began to crack and the trading tents began to fall into the ground. People rushed about in a panic, but there was no salvation – there was nowhere to run, with every second more and more cracks appeared in the ground, from which clouds of dust rose up, and in some half a minute the entire fair disappeared underground.

Soon the earthquake stopped and the deafening grumble finally subsided. When the wind dispersed the clouds of dust, it became clear that from the whole fair there was only one single tent of the spice merchant – everything else disappeared in a huge funnel gaping in the ground, in the middle of which stood an earthen pillar, the top of which was covered with grass, on which, with his arms outstretched to the sides, the same immature man lay motionless. His glazed eyes continued to look at the sky, already cleared of clouds.

The young man's mouth was slightly open, and from the side it might seem as if he was silently saying a prayer. It was not clear why the plot of land on which the deceased lay did not go underground along with the rest of the fair, but one thing was certain – the earthquake was not a natural disaster, but retribution for his death. And as if confirming it, a loud cry resounded over the valley, full of inescapable anguish and suffering. As it might seem, that this cry came from all directions at the same time, as if sound source was somewhere in the sky…

 

[VitalyIvolginsky]

…and then there was an awakening from the sleep. Little girl in a white nightgown awoke screaming in her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sat up in bed and, rubbing her eyes with her fist, took several deep breaths. The street was silent, only occasionally broken by the rustle of leaves in the crowns of a tree growing under the window. Not a single ray of light penetrated the room – the windows were curtained with heavy curtains of thick velvet. Gradually, the girl's eyes got used to the darkness, and she was able to distinguish the outlines of the closet in which her numerous outfits were stored, the table at which she painted and did her homework, as well as the chair she liked to sit on with her legs crossed.

Tearing her eyes away from the interior, baby girl sobbed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around them, she froze, listening to her feelings. All the thoughts that were born in her head somehow came down to the same topic, namely to the nightmare. Still not fully awake, she continued to feel the heaviness that he left on her soul. The little one had no doubts that she saw Him in her dream, before her eyes continued to stand His image, brought to life by this dream. She could almost see the sparkle in His brown eyes, watched His tousled hair flutter in the wind… In the feebleness dropping her head on knees, girlie barely audibly whispered His name.

But then she heard a knock on the bedroom door. At first she did not attach any importance to this, but when it repeated itself, lass jumped to her feet and headed for the door, straightening her long hair as she went. Opening the door, she stepped aside to let her mother in, who was wearing a light blue velvet bathrobe.

The woman looked tired. Entering her daughter's bedroom, she stopped by the bed and turned to little girl, who, looking straight ahead, continued to stand silently at the door. Finally, the silence of the bedroom was broken by the voice of the mother:

"I heard you scream", there was concern in her voice.

The girl looked away from the carpet lying on the floor of the bedroom and looked up at her mother with her dark, shining eyes. She saw that her daughter's whole body was tense- It was clear, that the girl did not expect this night visit and she did not like the presence of her mother in her bedroom. The mother carefully looked at her daughter's face and only now noticed that the baby's eyes were red from tears.

"Were you crying?", in a worried tone, the mother asked her.

Daughter did not answer her, continuing to look at her attentively and expectantly, shifting slightly from foot to foot. Then the mother turned to her daughter again:

"What are you afraid of? I'm right next to you. Tell me, I'll completely understand…"

It seemed that up to this moment the mother's words had not reached the consciousness of the girl, and only after this phrase did she begin to understand little by little what exactly she wanted from her. The girl relaxed a little and closed her eyes. After two seconds, she sighed and opened them.

"I think ajussi Jo is unhappy", she said softly. "I even heard him moan…"

After these words, a small tear rolled down her cheek. Wiping it with her palm, the girl brushed a strand of black hair out of her face.

"Dearie", mother began, "don't you cry…"

"I'm not crying", her daughter objected with a decisive note in her voice.

The girl's face became serious. Angrily stamping his little foot, she walked over to the bed and resolutely sat down on its edge. The mother moved mechanically to make room for daughter. Dangling her bare feet to the floor, the girl looked up at her.

"Mommy, why do you keep lying to me?", and, without waiting for an answer, explained. "About ajussi Jo?"

Instead of answering, the mother grabbed the baby by the shoulders and pulled him to her. The girl obediently clung to her, hiding her face in the folds of maternal bathrobe. For a while, both were silent, then, after a couple of minutes, the mother released her daughter from her arms.

"When will you understand", woman said confused, "that he died?"

Wiping her hands on clothes, she made her way to the exit. Daughter continued to sit on the bed, looking after her with some displeasure. Mother, stepping over the threshold, finally turned her head to her.

"Remember, ajussi Jo is just doesn't exist in this world, and that's it", – she said instructively.

"Well, mom…", the girl answered with obvious resentment.

"Go to bed already, dearie", woman realized that it was pointless to argue on this subject.

The girl lay down on her back and pulled the blanket over her. The mother watched her daughter settle into bed, and when she finally turned her face to the wall, the woman sighed softly and left the room, closing the door behind her. As her footsteps faded into the corridor, baby girl slowly lifted her head from the pillow and listened. After making sure that there was complete silence in the house, she threw off the blanket and lowered her legs to the floor.

Getting out of bed, she lowered her eyes – her long chemise went down almost to her ankles, why her soft pink feet stood out so much against the background of white clothes and a fluffy carpet, covering the bedroom floor. She looked a little more closely and noticed a small red bump on her left foot – apparently a mosquito bit her while sleeping. But now the girl was worried about completely different things.

Slowly moving her bare feet across the soft carpet, she went to the window and, lifting the thick velvet curtains, looked at the shutters. They were tightly closed on the latch – that was the precautionary of the parents, who feared that in the countryside at night all sorts of bad people, which do not feed bread, but let them get into someone else's house through the window.

The funny thing is that when their family lived in an apartment building in New York, where the girl's parents calmly left the windows open at night. Such a sudden change in their behavior could not help but make their daughter laugh, and even now, on this night, she could not help but laugh, trying, however, not to wake them up.

Coping with a momentary bout of gaiety, the girl pulled herself together and reached for the latch. Before pushing her away, she glanced back over – is anyone watching her, but there was no one in the bedroom except herself. It was understandable – if someone entered the room, the girl would hear the creak of the door and footsteps behind her. She turned her head to the window and pushed the bolt aside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, baby girl grabbed the window handle and pulled it towards her.

The window opened with a slight creak, and the girl involuntarily drew her head into her shoulders. The wind immediately rushed into her bedroom, which brought with it an indescribable smell of night air. The girl opened the other half of the window and climbed onto the windowsill. Sitting on him, she folded her hands on her stomach and stretched her legs forward. The cold forced her to shrink, which gave her whole posture a touching and defenseless expression.

At the window, lass felt completely safe, and she immediately surrendered to the power of the night wind, which gently stirred her long dark hair. The bright light of the full moon, which stood high in the sky, fell on her small, pale face. The sight of this night luminary filled her soul with such inexpressible happiness that lightness reigned in soul, and she soon forgot that her actions could attract the attention of her mother.

Despite the fact that the bright light of the moon blinded her eyes and deprived her of the ability to distinguish silhouettes in the dark, the girl still felt that the night world around her was full of mystery and magic. Please, do not think that she saw some ridiculous "fabulous" creatures and gray-bearded wizards with "magic wands" on the street.

In the understanding of this girl, magic was expressed not in these nonsense, but in a breathtaking feeling of complete comfort and euphoria, when all adversity disappears and in their place comes the realization of how much you love the whole world, which, however, did not prevent her from remembering the actions of some people, unpleasant for her, but this was not her fault, for such is human nature – love for all mankind always goes hand in hand with intolerance of individual personalities!

In this case, it was the parents of the girl – she could never forgive them for their lie, which was, that if believe their words, then her friend ajussi Jo went to another world. There was no way the child could check whether this was really so, but she had no reason to believe the word of her mother and father, who, since the day Jo disappeared, began to answer her every question regarding his person with the same "Jo's dead".

Sometimes the father, who worked as a pharmaceutist at the center, explained to his daughter that Jo's death was the result of the formation of some kind of metastases in his organism, but explanations of this kind only instilled in the girl the confidence that her parents were just trying to mess with her mind. Now, sitting alone on the windowsill, the girl could think about it calmly, without fear of the intervention of her parents, who, with their reproaches, did not allow her to concentrate on the thoughts that had been crowding in her head all this time. What actually happened to her adult friend and mentor?

The night gave the lass peace and a sense of appeasement. She stopped feeling the cold breeze that ruffled her hair and chilled her back, and even ceased to hearing any sounds – of all five of her senses, only her eyesight allowed her to somehow navigate in space. But at the same time, the baby did not experience any discomfort or anxiety, because time stood still for her and before her mind, as if on a fast rewind, ran through the memories of past events that the girl experienced with ajussi Jo – one could even say that they were all devoted only to his tender image.

The girl was outstanded at how this man did not fit with the contemporary world of both of them, and at times it seemed to her that the very fact of Jo's existence was a curious deviation from the norms of pedagogy and education. She thought so, based on his own words – "The Mother sways the dominion of The Heart, The Father that'of The Intellect, but if The Сhild has no Fatherly Support, then its Heart will prevail over its Intellect and he will be moved only by Emotional Impulses, without any Logical Principles". Baby did not understand a single word of what he meant by this, but knowledge of one fact from his biography could well serve as a simple explanation for his behavior…

 

[VitalyIvolginsky]

The fact was that, as the girl knew, her friend Jordan Thurlow grew up without a father from infancy – his mother was single-handedly raising him. There is no doubt that such a circumstance left an imprint on the spirit of this person. As he often told his little friend, Jo never knew what he wanted from life in general and from people in particular. In addition, he once confessed to her that before they met, he lived alone in their own world, and only when the girl moved with her family from New York to Portland, Jo's interest in life awakened.

But could this be true, or was Jo keeping something back to the child? How could a little girl in a few days change the life of a man whom she had never seen before her eight years of age? With what efforts did she manage to make this lost man happy? There was nothing unusual about her behavior – she was the most ordinary child, moderately humble and moderately snooty. She just loved the life, enjoyed it and willingly shared her joy with others. As a rule, for all other adults, she didn't even exist, of course, with the exception of her parents, as well as teachers, who, according to the duty of the profession, were obliged to keep any child in their sight.

So what was it about her that she suddenly captured the soul of this man and, without any exaggeration, turned his life upside down, made him become completely different? The only real reason for this was only the fact that they lived next door, and everything else was just a consequence, like everything related to her fate – just a coincidence. There was no other rational explanation and could not be. It is amazing how little it takes for a soul to turn over in a person in such a short time…

Sitting on the windowsill, the girl looked at the moon without taking her eyes off, not fully realizing that she was so attracted to this night luminary. Slightly straightening her slender shoulders, she threw her head back, causing her mouth to open a little involuntarily, and the moonlight fell on her snow-white teeth that protruded rather forward.

It seemed a bit more, and a little bird would fly out of her childish mouths, which would immediately fall off her thin lips and fly up to the very sky. But, of course, nothing of the kind happened, but the girl's thoughts took a different direction – Fragments of memories flashed before her inner gaze, merged into a bright and vivid picture. It seemed to her as if she was re-experiencing what she had witnessed recently…

So, one warm day of September, she is sitting in her room and is concentrating on her lessons. Missis Hallahan, her schoolteacher, required her to memorize a verse by tomorrow, but the girl couldn't handle it, because thoughts that were not related to the classes crowded in her head. The girl turned the pages of the textbook and read line by line, and then forced herself to repeat them from memory, but alas, the words of the verse are immediately forgotten and faded from memory, no matter how hard she tried.

In the midst of this activity she heard the sound of door opening. The girl looked up from her textbook and, without rising from her chair, turned her head back – on the threshold of room stood her mother, dressed in a house dress of red silk, over which was tied a white apron with a fresh soup stain, indicating that she had just left the stove.

"Dearie, go for lunch!", cheerfully winked at her, mother called.

"But…", girl blinked in confusion. "I have homework in literature…"

As if fearing that her mother would not believe her, lass took the textbook in her hands and lifted it above her head, hoping that she would be convinced of the correctness of her words. But mommy just smiled to answer.

"Your lessons can wait, and my soup is getting cold!", she said in the same playful mood.

After that, the woman turned around and went into the dining room. Little girl put the textbook back on the table, and, getting up from the chair, slowly followed her. After walking down the corridor, they went down the stairs to the first floor and entered the dining room – a large bright room, in the center of which stood a long table, at the head of which was already the head of the family. Seeing his beloved daughter, he affably waved his hand to her.

"Finally, sweetie! I was tired of waiting!", he announced loudly to emphasize his joy.

Then he nodded to his wife, who meanwhile went to the stove and, putting on kitchen gloves, picked up a large pot, from which thick white steam was pouring out. The girl hesitated on the threshold and looked inquiringly at her daddy, who winked at her reassuringly. Then she came closer to the table and sat down on a chair that stood on the left hand of his hand – which was supposed to symbolize that the daughter is the heart of her father. The mother was already placing deep faience plates on the table, from which came the appetizing smell of Sopa de legumes – lass' favorite food, which the matriarch of the family usually cooked on holidays.

At the end of these preparations, the woman sat down on the right hand of her husband and they both turned their eyes to the daughter. A happy smile played on her pretty face – little girl, having already forgotten about the lessons, prepared to start the meal. Furrowing his thick brows slightly, the father raised his hand, calling everyone present to attention. The girl and her mother immediately froze in expectant poses, and silence reigned in the dining room. The man looked at his spouse, who, without saying a word, nodded in the affirmative. Then head of household turned his gaze to his daughter, who looked at him with her large innocent eyes, waiting for his words. Coughing into his fist, he collected his thoughts.

"So", surveying his family with a serious look, he solemnly began. "What should be done before meals?"

He made a short – just eight seconds – pause. Both of his women – one younger, the other older – silently waited for the continuation of his speech.

"Right", he said, raising his finger. "We need to giving thanks and praise the Lord. For what?", pausing again, the father looked expectantly at his daughter.

The girl did not take her eyes off her daddy's face. Her shoulders, hidden under a light brown cardigan, slightly trembling with excitement. She knew full well that this rhetorical question (to which it was forbidden to answer) would now be followed by a long and boring explanation, which she will be obliged to listen with all possible attention, even if she had heard that speech hundreds of thousands of times before. Therefore, the girl resigned herself to the fact that she would have to wait with Sopa de legumes – after all, it was a tradition that she could not and did not want to go against.

"Well, because", her father began, "if a human takes the gifts of God without gratitude, he is likened to a pig that shamelessly pounces on everything indiscriminately and devours what it thinks is tasty. But we are not pigs!", at the same time, the father raised his voice a little, "we are humans, we unbecoming to be animals. We must understand who we are and why we came into this world. Humans should know that their every earthly activity is a manifestation of their love for Lord. God was merciful – he sends us food so that our soul can grow in the knowledge of the higher will".

Head of the family took a breath and in the heat of the moment struck himself with his mighty fist on his broad chest.

"This means, that we should accept the food given to us by the Lord with a sense of gratitude", he finally finished.

By the end of the speech, the father leaned back in his chair and with interest looked around people sitting around a dinner table. The girl sat with downcast eyes – from the side she seemed calm, but in fact her daddy's booming and booming voice continued to stand in her ears. The father took his eyes off his daughter and directed him somewhere to the corner of the dining room, where there was a large sideboard, all the shelves of which were lined with rich service. Soon his face took on a peaceful expression, and he again turned his gaze forward.

"Well, let's get started", he meant not food, as it might seem, but the short grace that followed his long speech.

With these words, the father lowered his elbows on the table, and his wife also followed suit. The girl raised her head – both parents watched her closely, reproach was read in their eyes. Lass knew perfectly well the reason for their discontent – the tradition of reading a prayer before meals was always strictly observed in their family, and anyone who tried to break this rule had a hard time.

The girl still remembers, once upon a time, when she was just five years old, at dinner, she capriciously told her father that she allegedly forgot the grace's words – so much she wanted to eat that June day. She didn't expect at all, that from these words the face of the pope will be filled with blood and distorted in a terrible grimace. Five-year-old girl pretended that his anger passed her attention and began to eat baked potatoes, but the poor little soul did not manage to dine.

In the next second, the father got up from his seat and, stamping his feet loudly, went up to his daughter and forcefully put forward the chair on which she was sitting. This, of course, was followed by the little girl's cries of displeasure, accompanied by tears, to which the father answered only with furious "You will sleep without supper!", and then he ordered his wife to take their girl to the bedroom, to which she agreed without further ado – which the daughter regarded as a betrayal.

And since then, every time before a meal, the father said that they need to read a grace, that scene replayed in her head – and she again heard her own weeping, saw her father's face contorted with anger and her mother's completely calm and indifferent face… Confused, the girl twitched her whole little body.

"Forgive me", she whispered softly.

Then, gathering up the courage, she cast a quick glance out the window, beyond which the September sun still shone. A bright light hit her eyes and blinded her for a moment, and the next second the girl raised her hands from under the table, resting her elbows on the white tablecloth. At the same time, the sleeves of her cardigan slid down slightly, revealing to everyone around the pale skin of her delicate forearms. If the sun had not shone so brightly at that moment, then this would probably have passed by the attention of parents, but they could not fail to notice how the glare of the sun fell on her tender hands.

The father immediately looked away so as not to embarrass his daughter and stared at his plate. Mother, on the contrary, could not stand it and furtively glanced at little girl, who, meanwhile, folded her fragile hands in front of her clean face, as if trying to hide the shame that gripped her. In fact, she just began to read the grace, what calmed her daddy, who, out of respect for tradition, did not dare to break the silence, but up to that moment, a slight irritation caused by her slowness and unhurriedness was clearly visible in his eyes.

The girl closed her eyelids and the view of the brightly lit dining room instantly gave way to complete darkness. It seemed to her that for a few moments she was transported into a boundless void, but the quiet whisper of the parents, who had already begun to utter the words of the grace, brought her back to reality. Then lass took a deep breath, concentrated on the pleasant warmth of her palms and, trying not to raise her voice, began to quietly read grace – as she remembered it.

"Come, Lord Jesus…", she whispered her first words, pronouncing them a little slower than necessary so as not to accidentally make a mistake.

However, while reading a prayer, she had something completely different in her thoughts – girlie imagined that she was seeing ajussi Jo in front of her, with a sad look looking at her from the darkness. His closed lips seemed to ask her some question, and she guessed what he wanted to ask her – she felt what he was feeling now, what desperate pain tormented him.

"As your life?", the girl turned to him. "I know that you are suffering, and I am not happy here without you either.I understand that from now on we will never be together. But still tell me, where are you now?". Alas, there was no answer – her adult friend only breathed deeply through clenched teeth from suffering, and tightly pressed to his chest a bouquet of dahlias dried up from time to time, which she loved so much in absentia, never holding them in her hands.

"…be our Guest…", meanwhile lass did not forget to read grace, sitting at the dinner table with their parents.

"Silence won't help", she continued to carry on a dialogue with her friend. "Please understand how hard it is for me, when I don't understand what's really going on with you… You are not dead, I know it very well – you were isolated because of me because I broke the rules of this world… But I want to know exactly where you are being hidden from me". Jo was still silent, but the girl saw how the corners of his mouth drooped sadly and a tear rolled down his unshaven cheek.

"…and let Thy gifts…", little girl continued to read the prayer, feeling the dryness of her lips. In addition, she felt someone's eyes on her face, who carefully examined her, but she did not attach any importance to this, because grace required complete concentration.

"It's no good move on your side", with some reproach she turned to Jo. "You disappeared so suddenly, that I did not even have time to come to terms with the thought, that now I have to live without your tales, advices and understanding. It's a pity I didn't get to know what exactly was the reason that you disappeared. I think stupid adults are to blame here – it was they who made a villain out of you, without even really understanding what you really are… Or maybe they realized how insignificant their knowledge is compared to yours, and they decided to get rid of you". After these words, girl saw Jo smile weakly and slightly nod in response to her – apparently he was satisfied with what she was talking about, but still not a word escaped his lips.

"…to us be blessed. Amen", reading the last words of grace, the girl was in no hurry to open her eyes – she wanted to talk a little more with Jo, even if only in her imagination.

"Ah, ajussi Jo", she said desperately, "Tell me for God's sake, why did life make me go across the spiral of fate? What did I do to you, why did you leave me all alone, without saying a single word goodbye? And now you're making me ignorant of your real location? Because if you would only tell me where you are, I immediately calmed my heart and reconciled with your loss".

Jo kept standing in his place, and the wind ruffled his disheveled hair. The girl noticed how, in response to her words, a guilty expression appeared on his face, which could mean that he is going through an internal struggle – give in to the plea of a young friend or not. "Tell me where are you now, please!", she asked plaintively. And suddenly Jo swung and with all his might threw in her direction a bouquet of dahlias, who had previously held. Lass stretched her arms forward to catch the flowers, but the next second she felt a hand on her shoulder…