Voices

Fedor Semenovich Fedotov was making his way through the crowd in the street in Moscow. His walk was the fast, fresh walk of a man who knows that all of his problems will be solved in a heartbeat - and very, very soon. He was heading towards Sadovoye koltso, a road that was a perfect circle around the city’s heart. Cars were always speeding on this road, which made the road perfect for suicides. Fedor passed a woman standing at the underpass entrance, selling bouquet of white roses. He avoided stepping into some dirty puddle and made a face at the huge red letter M painted on a board standing about 20 metres to his right. Subway – he was thinking about this possibility, too – but he put this idea aside immediately. First, he hated tunnels and didn’t wish to force himself into staying underground for the last few minutes of his life. And then, he didn’t wish to pay 17 rubles for the ticket. He was going to commit suicide, not going for a trip. It just wouldn’t be right.

No. If he has to – really, finally, and thoroughly – kill himself, then let it be Sadovoye koltso road. Not that he loved cars, quite the opposite, he had this malicious image in his head: his suicide causes a traffic jam and the lives of other Muscovites turn into a small hell, at least for a short moment! So far other people were making a hell out of his life. It would be nice to pay them back somehow. He sarcastically smiled at this thought.

„You’re gonna fuck this up.“

Fedor suddenly stopped. He froze with his foot in the air and glanced around nervously. None of the people passing him looked like they had said these few quiet words. Somebody bumped into him. Fedor staggered, losing his balance, and received the man‘s curses without interest. He started walking again, quickly. I’ve just gone mad, he thought to himself. My fragile soul couldn’t cope with the fact that I was walking towards my death. Oh great. I’m going to die as a madman.

„You‘re not a madman, Fedor. You‘re a bloody moron. You fuck up everything,“ the voice laughed at him. Fedor stumbled over his own feet but managed to stand up, and after gaining his balance back, he bravely continued walking.

„What are you?“ Fedor hissed under his breath. The crowd around him was getting smaller as he got closer to the road. The voice didn’t belong to any of these people – they couldn’t hear his thoughts, after all. No, I‘ve definitely gone mad. I‘m talking to myself.

„If you think so. Now listen, Mr. Zero. You can’t do this. You’ll fuck this up, as usual. You don’t have the balls.“

Fedor frowned. He didn’t like the tone of this voice. It was mocking him.

„Your whole life sucks, one catastrophe after another!“ said the voice triumphantly and Fedor hissed at him: „That’s why I’m going to kill myself, don’t you see?“

A few heads turned around – Fedor raised his collar and gave them grumpy look. The voice was laughing in his head: „Oh Fedor, you are not going to kill yourself, you are going to embarrass yourself, just like you did back then. Remember that day you came back home early from work? Do you think your wife was embarrassed? Or the badass manager dude, who was shagging her?“

„I guess it had to happen, eventually,“ said Fedor quietly. He sounded calm.

„But you knew!“ the voice was mocking him again. „You didn’t do anything!“

„What was I supposed to do?“ mumbled Fedor into his collar. „She wouldn’t stop. And I had no evidence.“

„Not even after that?“

„All right then! I should have killed them both and rotted in jail!“ Fedor got so upset he stepped into the puddle on purpose. A woman passing close shot him a grumpy look. Fedor felt sorry for not soaking her completely.

„You fucked up again,“ said the voice happily. Fedor rolled his eyes.

„Your whole life is fucked and you’ll fuck this up, too.“

Fedor grimaced like a madman. The road was now just a few steps in front of him. He could hear the air whistling and roaring of the engines, and the fumes were tickling him in his nose.

„No I won’t,“ he said. He paused at the pavement’s edge, took a deep breath – and made that last step forward.

„You idiot,“ said the voice.

There were some thumps, screams and breaks squealing, followed by more thumps. There was a sense of irony hanging above this whole scene, as if someone invisible was rolling their eyes. „Do I really deserve this?“ said the voice into the wind. An ambulance hurried down at the road.

Paramedics were placing a terribly injured, but still living Fedor into the ambulance. Invisible lips sneered to other invisible ears. „I did tell him so,“ reminded the voice to the others. One shrugged his invisible shoulders. The ambulance disappeared behind a curve. And as the invisible one, who was talking to Fedor, dwelled in the silence, while the attention of the another unsubstantial being was caught by a young lady, driving a red Peugeot. She could feel the pleasant weight of the revolver, resting in the pocket of her designer coat. She was headed to the parking lot of a big suburban mall.

„Svetlana, there are other, more pleasant ways,“ whispered the voice of a sweet young woman into her ear. Sveta screamed and tore the steering wheel to the side. Somewhere behind the sounds of smashing glass and crashing metal there was a quiet, cold laugh. Cars now stood in a traffic jam at Sadovoye koltso. But not because of Fedor. He did fuck up. As usual..