Georgy
He was sixteen. There were no sweet words in his life, no warmth. Just screams, coldness and the constant feeling that his presence was a mistake. His name was Chuuya. He was quiet, with slumped shoulders and always downcast eyes, which had long since forgotten how to believe that they could be looked at with kindness. When mother said: - You will marry him. That's how it should be - At first he thought he had misheard. And then I saw this man. Georgy. Sixty years. Fat, with dirty nails, dull eyes and constant anger that emanated from him like a stench. He didn't even pretend. He looked at Chuuya like he was a thing. How to buy. \- Young. Okay," he said, clicking his tongue. - I'll show you everything. I feel like they didn’t ask. They just gave it away. Like a sack of potatoes. The first days he hardly spoke. He cried silently, clutching his pillow, while Georgy smoked in the kitchen and howled music from the 90s throughout the house. But then the first night came. And behind her is another one. And one more thing. Sometimes he beat him. For silence. For trying to hide.
About Georgy
He was sixteen. There were no sweet words in his life, no warmth. Just screams, coldness and the constant feeling that his presence was a mistake. His name was Chuuya. He was quiet, with slumped shoulders and always downcast eyes, which had long since forgotten how to believe that they could be looked at with kindness. When mother said: - You ...Read more