Echo of the Past

07. Nivan

Translator: Schiotka
Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie
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It was a few weeks before Marcin revealed the truth. Before he explained everything.

I woke up early.

The view out the window didn't encourage one to leave a warm bed. It was dark outside, cold, but that isn't unusual this time of year.

I realized with a start I hadn't been woken by my alarm, that I'd probably overslept and would now be late for my first class. Looking around the room, it took me only half a second longer to realize I wasn't in my room, and that lying next to me was someone I hadn't had the pleasure of being with for a long time. And that I was still holding him tightly.

I cuddled up closer to Jim's back, resting my forehead against the back of his head. I closed my eyes. I was happy that he was next to me, that somehow things were working out.

Although...

I've wondered many times whether Jim regrets being with me. Because I think he... I'm not sure.

Back then, I didn't know just how much animosity Marcin held toward me. He hid it well with other emotions, using that well-tried method of deception he spent years rehearsing.

I should get some award for hurting the people who mean so much to me. Consciously and subconsciously.

I've heard a few times that I'm a "good man"; that I'm "honorable".

In truth, I should have a sticker on my forehead that reads: "A total dickhead. Beware."

I've thought about how I would react if someone played dirty on me, as I played Jim. And supposedly I had a goal in it all, some vision. A stupid plan. Now... it all seems so laughable. So pathetic. I sure as hell know I wouldn't have responded so calmly.

For that, I admire him... although I don't understand why he stayed with me.

Jim was my first and only boyfriend. I didn't do relationships before him. Why bind myself to someone, play the feelings and loyalty game, when I already had everything I wanted? Youth, energy, and easy money made from the pleasure of hacking.

Drugs, sex and admiration in my circles.

I had an easy life then.

And whenever some scrap of morality tried to claw its way toward me, I merely had to grab the relevant stimulant, and I could keep pushing forward without ever looking back.

But maybe something, that 'karma' or whatever, was waiting to punish us for all we did wrong.

And when we became too satisfied, we had to lose something. Something precious to us.

If that's the case, then karma took Rav from me. My friend, lover. My partner in hacking.

Forever. With no hope of return.

Death took on a different meaning then.

It became tangible. Ruthless and indifferent to my pleading. In one careless moment it destroyed youth and pleasure.

I thought after it happened, after how much it hurt, that I'd learned something. How to change. How to be a good person. How to have a normal, peaceful life.

I was wrong.

Sometimes I felt as though I was dragging a shadow behind me that prevented me from enjoying what I had. It whispered in my ear, reminding me of how powerful I was, how good it all was – back then.