Раз-два-три, ветер изменится - Глава 9 отрывок 8 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

He was hiding under the bed, and his father went into the room with a belt at the ready, lifted the bedspread and yelled, spraying the saliva: “Get out, creature! Get out! ” He dragged him by the hand: a huge paw on the thin wrist - dragged into the hall, where his mother was sitting on the couch, trembling with fear and pain (a broken face and a wide blue mark on the neck). Father shook his shoulder and squealed: “Take off my underpants, a piece of shit! I said - take off! ” And he had to; He had to pull off his dumbfounded cheap linen, wet with horror, and, pressing his palms to each other, kneeling and wait until the air would scatter the first blow. It hurts, very painful; Father rested his foot on his buttocks and beat his hips with his belt, saying: “I will show you how to shit to bed! I'll show you!.."

Mom wheezed: "Let him go, please!" - But my father approached and gave her a slap in the face, and then another, and one more, and there was a night when he, having beaten him and her, began to take a skirt from her and took out a member from her pants: an ugly, crimson member - and began Poking in his face. “Take it, bitch ... take it ...” - the father held her hair and quickly moved her hips, do not pay attention to the fact that his mother was sick.

And he remembered, remembered, remembered this night because he raised his head and saw how his mother, sobbing, panting with vomiting and tears, showed him a hand on the door. And this was the moment when he realized: no one would come and save him. The pain will be eternal.

He walked into the room, where his brother, hiding in the corner of the bed, read some prayer and, squinting, biting his skin from his fingers. The brother said: “Please, please, please” - and so lasted for hours, until his father was tired and his mother was pulling to the floor, so that, having called her a whore and hit her stomach, go to drink to the nearest pub.

No one helped him. No one pulled him out of this hell.

And no one will pull me out. Hell inside each of us, and over the years it flares up only brighter.

That evening, for the first time, I realized how correct and fair his actions were: only death can save from eternal inner emptiness, from loneliness, from suffering, from incomprehensibility. Because after death there is nothing - and he gave the people whom he loved, this gift. He freed them.