Татьяна Андронова

IMG_20160615_130535Практикую ничегонеделание. Закончила музыкальную школу по классу скрипки, безрассудно покупаю книги и читаю их, открывая для себя что-то новое. Лет в шесть писала стихи, позже – прозу. Амбиверт.

Multipotentialite. The main purposes are to travel, to love, to read, to write,to eat ice-cream and pasta, to learn something new. I wirte about stars when I’m sad and have insomnia. Ambivert.

Короткий рассказ “He was normal”


‘Hurray!’ rejoiced Erica, when she heard, that parents wanted to go to the cinema tomorrow. ‘Let’s go to ‘Flying hippos’!’

‘Okay, dear’ smiled her father. ‘And we can buy some ice-cream for our princess.’

‘That would be the greatest day here’ Erica was spinning round the room.

Harry Brooks wasn’t as happy as his sister. He was Erica’s older brother. Harry’s eighteens birthday will be in three weeks, two of which his family will spend in London. They arrived just today and stayed live here in aunt’s house.

Harry thought he’s grown-up enough, so cartoons weren’t interesting for him. He chatted with his friend Thomas about London and New-York, Harry’s motherland. He didn’t know why, but he liked London, liked rain and humid weather. New-York has crowds of people which are always hasted to somewhere.


Session would start in ten minutes. Tickets are bought. Harry understands he didn’t have to drink so much Coke earlier. He went to this boring cartoon because he didn’t want to get parents upset – they always dreamed about obedient children.

‘I’ll come soon’ guy said to parents. He headed to the loo. Two big glasses of Coke and his bladder begins to burst.

Harry has done his business and starts wash his hands. ‘Nice wall colour’ he thinks about light-blue marble. With his side vision he sees a guy. Looks at him through the mirror and notices that blonde hair laid perfect, muscles can’t be hidden under black T-shirt. Suddenly guy’s head rises and their sights crossed. Blue and green eyes give amazing mixture if it can be counted that eyes’ colours paint space between faces. Stranger smiled wit incredible smile, and Harry felt that his legs can fall. Node struck up in his stomach, pupils expanded, cheeks got as tomato, and the Earth had one more in love person.

Cartoon started. Harry couldn’t think about anything but that guy. Erica laughed and said something to him, but lad didn’t catch any word being in his dreams. Sometimes Harry looked over the saloon, but couldn’t see familiar hair.

They came home happy and full of ice-cream. It was the evening, so Harry went to his room and put off warm smock. But he saw something in his hood. Note. ‘Nice smile & cheeks, Charlie. @charhntq00’. Harry turns on the computer and starts seeking. Heart beats as crazy. Hands shake and sweat.  One user. Harry makes two sip of water because of dry throat. ‘I have to risk. Just write him. Just write.’

‘Hey’ Harry taped.

‘Good evening’ replied Charlie.

‘Gosh, he’s here’ worried Harry, but wrote ‘I’ve found your note inside my hood.’

‘Your red cheeks were really cute J’ the answer was.

Yet known node struck up again. Shaking hands were like tree branches in the hurricane.

‘Thank you. I didn’t see you when the cartoon had begun.

‘I sat right behind you and put a note into your hood, hoping you’ll write me.’

Harry was much happier than his opponent. They chatted for five hours. Charlie said he lives with his grandmother, likes cartoons and has a beautiful cat – Charlotte. He works in a computer shop and thinks that there is no better person on the Earth than his granny – granny Lo as he called her.

They agreed to meet tomorrow in the café at 8 pm, because Charlie works till seven. It was good for Harry as he couldn’t sleep all night, thinking about ‘cinema-loo guy’.


7:54 pm. Harry is here for twenty minutes. He notices familiar figure. ‘It is he’ flashed in the head.

‘Hello, my internet-cinema-loo friend’, jocosely said Charlie. He was worn in skinny jeans, white big T-shirt with a bonfire and Vans. ‘I thought I will come first’.

‘I came just now’ Harry lied.

‘Alright, what would you like to eat? I’m very hungry’ Charlie said with a smile.

They called a waitress and ordered two pastas, pistachio and banana ice-creams (Harry did adore bananas) and one teapot with ‘Earl Grey’ tea.

‘So, what I don’t know about you?’ Harry asked.

‘I think I don’t know, what I am. People change while they’re growing, and I do. I change my attitude to life, my outlook. I’m like a chameleon. But what I definitely know – I loved, love and will love rain, my cat and granny Lo, black colour and Hemingway’s books.’ Charlie replied, trying to swallow spaghetti.

They spent some time in a café and then decided to walk along Themes. The weather was nice – darkness of the night enveloped them, humidity of the river allowed to do deep breaths. Boys found a free bench and set down.

‘Life is amazing now’ Charlie said, and there were notes of sorrow in his voice.

‘Do you worry about something?’ Harry asked discomposedly. He felt, that his friend was upset know.

‘Yes. I think I felt in love.’ With these words Charlie looked at Harry, took his face and kissed him on the lips. Harry felt the warmth emanating from Charlie. In few seconds Charlie stepped back and looked at Harry. He was red-cheeks and cute.

‘I love you’ whispered Harry. ‘I love you since that moment, when I saw you in the cinema. Do you know, that the sky will fail, if to compare its and your eyes? I’ve never felt something like this. I love you’.

And Harry cried. Charlie hugged him and started describe his feelings.

Charlie didn’t know the true reason, why Harry cried, but Harry did. He knew his parents. They went to cathedral every Sunday. They admitted only boy-girl love. No gays.


1.20 am. Harry’s near the house. He thought his family is sleeping, but there was light in the windows. He met disgruntled parents inside. Mother was crying.

‘What happened?’ worried Harry. ‘Is somebody dead?’

‘Ha! He asks what happened! Our son is gay, and he asks what happened!’ shouted father.

Till this moment Harry didn’t know what means ‘the Earth goes out of the feet’. Now he understood. He felt like he was bumped with a life.

‘What… What are you talking about, dad?’ Harry asked, feeling his eyes get full of tears.

‘I will never ever talk to you, stupid piece of blue shit!’ screamed father and went out the room.

‘Erica told us. Erica took your computer and… you didn’t come out of your twitter.’ Mother cried. ‘She has read your messages with… Charlie? She ran to us and showed this. It is disgusting, Harold! How you could?’ mother said, trying to be calm. ‘We’ll go to New-York tomorrow. There you will go to doctor and will be a normal person.

‘You can’t do this! I am normal now!’ Harry cried.

‘No, you aren’t. But you will be, believe me. We’ll never come back to here, you’ll forget that stupid Charles? Charlie… Whatever. And life will be as it always was.’

‘Mom, I said you, I …’

‘Shut your mouth up and go to bed, you young boy! We have to wake up early tomorrow to pack our clothes. Flight would be at 11 am.’

That was a limit. He went up to his room and closed the door. Tears dropped like a waterfall, the pillow was wet. He knew that it’s the end. He knew his parents for his whole life. These were the people with iron volition. He couldn’t dissuade them. They’ve already bought tickets and will fly tomorrow. But he also knew he loved. He loved first time in his life.

Harry was a weak person. Children always bullied him in the kindergarten. Few times he was beaten at school. Parents forgot about him after Erica’s birth. And first time he felt somebody needs him. And he was needed. But there were parents – a barrier between him and Charlie.


4.30 am. Harry makes his first movement with his hand for two hours. Plan has matured in his head.

‘I’m weak. People don’t like me. I’ll write to Charlie, and he’ll get it’ Harry thought.

Half an hour later Harry takes a pen and starts to write with his steady handwriting. Then he turns two pieces of paper and goes out of the house through the window.

‘Amazing city, I’d live here if I could’ reflected Harry.

He finds the desired house and put his paper in the mailbox.

Then he goes out and fog hides him.


10 am. News report: ‘In Thames was found a boy. Seventeen years old. Dark hair. Green eyes. People saw him floating back up. Boy was dead, doctors could nothing to do. Under the neck was the inscription ‘I am normal’.’


10 am. News report: ‘In Thames was found another boy. The same age. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Under his neck was the inscription ‘He was normal’. A consequence is looking for reasons of teen’s suicides.’


Papers would be found in many weeks put in Hemingway’s book.

But that wouldn’t return lives of two absolutely normal guys.

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