Oscar.

Kostevich Antonina. 6v

«Oscar».

He was always saying what everybody least expected of him.

«Look! What a beautiful weather it is today! How is your life outside your ward?»

There was a sign with his name near his bed - his memory was damaged and he could only say his name letter by letter. He listened to classical music, in the morning he jumped out of bed crying.

This is how he found himself in the hospital.

«Any relatives?»

«I don’t know…»

«What’s your favorite color?»

«The color of the salt jar lid with red label.»

Then he was transferred to the three days’ rehabilitation.

The wheelchair across him was occupied for about three hours by Oscar.

Um…

Tarpaulin overalls with pockets full of tobacco cubes. The man admires the other man and at the same time is threatened by him.

Then they took Oscar away and he heard people arguing behind the doors…

«Oscar, do you know when you were born? …  How much tobacco do you have in your pocket?»

«Exactly one pound, sir. The strongest one survives.»

Then he felt pain. The animal pain and the scream. He might have been screaming himself. Oscar was there, listened to him screaming, looking into his blind eyes.

«I told you, it will be painful…»

……

He is three. He is smiling happily, camera capturing his happy face.

He is seven. He is smiling, there are little wrinkles near his mouth. His hand is flying high - the teacher loves him, the kids hate him.

He is eleven. He hands in his diploma in the wooden case through the bars of the boarding school fence. His mother is crying from happiness. His dad squeezes his hand. «You will be a very successful person, Brendan. Believe me, very successful!»

He is seventeen. He is breathless from tears and blood, his mother drinks heavily, his dad beats him in the face. « You are Nobody, Brendan. You spend your last money on competitions you lose. You do nothing, you have no right to make a mistake. You will never be any close to success.»

He is twenty-three. He is lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling, his arms stretched out. He did not get a job. Nobody, Brendan. What’s next? Death?

………

He heard the scream again. «Oscar, Oscar!» Oscar’s hands were cold. Wax doll in the tarpaulin overalls. Oscar was smiling.