In the local newspapers for many weeks you could find mention of a robbery at a small, neighborhood grocery store.
According to the journalists who wrote the articles, inspired by the testimonies of the few witnesses and the blurred footage of the street camera, two juvenile delinquents took an infirm old lady hostage and, holding a gun to her head, ordered the cashier to give them the entire stock of a certain popular painkiller.
However, they do not mention that one of the attackers was almost naked, or that, in addition to a case of ibuprofen, they also took a credit card belonging to one of the customers who ran out of the store in a panic upon seeing them.
But the worst part of it all is that, despite all that footage and the cashier's woefully vague testimony, this bunch of morons still haven't gotten to the most important part of the whole thing.
It was Sara who held the gun, and if anyone was being held hostage, it would be me and Rubblen, for the whole robbery was to satisfy her natural needs.
When we found out that the plane that was supposed to take us to Rome had dropped us off in Łódź, I must admit, we fell into a delicate panic. We were left without luggage, documents, money and in the case of Rubble, clothes, in a city that neither of us had ever been to and had no inclination to change.
Then there was Sara, who kind of hijacked the entire plane, threatening the entire crew with a revolver and demanding ibuprofen dumplings throughout the flight. Unfortunately, such a specialty was not served on board, so she was starting to go crazy. The situation was not looking too good, and since we had burned all the bridges behind us, the only option was to wade further into the madness Sarah had brought upon us.
The robbery at the grocery store was the first step and unfortunately not the last. But in our defense, the whole thing was not at all what the media portrayed it to be.
- Why can't we just beg like normal people?... Rubble kept asking, trying to hide from the disgusted looks of passers-by behind my back... It sounds a bit too uh... drastically...
- And very fucking good ... I muttered. My pissed off level hasn't gone down one bit... I'm fed up with all this shit, we're going to settle this smoothly and without unnecessary complications, shut her up for a while, and in the meantime we'll think about how to get back home.
- Sounds like a terrible plan. Rubble noticed.
- I don't take life advice from guys in nothing but boxers. That's my rule number two.
- And what's rule number one? he asked casually, looking down at the pavement.
- I'm not taking life advice from you.
- What did I expect... he sighed and stopped abruptly, almost colliding with Sarah walking in front.
We finally got to the store we were going to rob.
We previously checked the most pathological spots in the city on the Internet to choose a store where:
A) will be ibuprofen
D) there will be a lot of it
C) will be located in such a place as to give us the best chance to carry out the entire action efficiently
The shop we chose was practically on the outskirts of town, and its only customers were probably local drunks.
The nearest police station was six kilometers away according to the maps, and the last patrol had been seen here in the last century.
In theory, the perfect place to rob. In practice, too.
- Good morning, it's a robbery. Rubble said smiling to the cashier.
- I was going to say it... I got pissed off at him and sold him an instructive leaf on the face, then turned to the surprised saleswoman... Good morning, it's a robbery. Please give us all the ibuprofen you have in stock.
- And some more clothes ... started Rubble, trying to get up from the floor.
- Will you shut up? I hit him again and turned him to the teller
To my surprise, she didn't look a bit scared, on the contrary, after casting a quick glance at my face, she burst out laughing and staggered back.
- You look really super scary kids, but in my day, stores were robbed with a gun in their hand and a cigarette in their mouth.
- We have weapons! ... Rubble shouted, moving away from me to a safe distance ... we also had cigarettes, but we smoked them before the robbery.
I turned to Sara, who had been staring blankly at the chip shelf the whole time, muttering to herself. She was so hungry she couldn't even scream anymore, which of course wasn't something I was going to complain about.
- Hey, we need your revolver. I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the cackling cashier. Dumb bitch.
But I didn't get any reaction from Sara, apparently this particular package of hot chips was much more interesting than the rest of the world. I sighed theatrically and reached my hand into the pocket of her jacket, which was barely able to embrace its owner's fat body.
This caused an immediate reaction, impressive both in reflexes and grace, with which Sara in a few moments drew a revolver and held it to my head.
- It's not me you're supposed to scare, madwoman, but her! I shouted at her, pointing to the cashier who was literally crying with laughter
Auntie, however, did not listen and with an expression of indifference combined with total contempt, she imperturbably pressed the barrel of her gun into my forehead.
Rubble meanwhile finally got up from the floor and said diplomatically
- We still need to work out a few more details about the robbery.
The cashier thrashed around the floor laughing like a seizure log. We left the store
- Sara, you're aiming at the cashier, not me... I said to Aunt who still wouldn't let go of that fucking revolver... Yes, I'm sorry I wanted to reach into your pocket, forgive me for that unforgivable sin.
Sarah didn't seem to sense the sarcasm and forgave me.
- Rubble, you take ibuprom from the cashier. And we're getting the fuck out as fast as we can before the militia comes in.
- Militia?
- We are in Łódź, do you really think that for several decades they got used to the fact that the security services managed to change two letters in their name? Ask someone here, what year are we , he will tell us that he lost his arm at Grunwald yesterday.
We walked back into the store and to our surprise the cashier got up from the floor. Not only that, she was holding a phone to her ear, which she apparently used to contact the local militia. Our little council took too long. I winked at Sara, who surprisingly had done her part of the plan perfectly and swiftly aimed her black powder revolver at the lady behind the cash register.
- Please put the phone down. This is a seizure... I said cheerfully... Please give us all the ibuprofen you have.
The cashier obediently threw the device away and grabbed a box from the cash register.
- This is all we have, I hope you are satisfied.
I bent down sharply, noticing something lying under the door.
- I guess this is our lucky day. I said as I picked up a credit card dropped by a runaway customer from the floor.
Something howled suddenly outside the shop, interrupting this happy moment. Apparently, the local militia stole a siren from a neighboring province.
- We fuck off. I screamed, terrified by the vision of spending a few years in the Łódź prison.
Rubble grabbed a box of ibuprofen, Sara turned heavily toward the door, and I was the first to run out of the store, grabbing a bag of chips as I went.
The milice car stopped about two hundred meters away, because it had no way to cross the small square under the shop. Two retired militiamen staggered out, apparently unaware of the seriousness of the situation. My associates left the store, awaiting further instructions.
- Come this way! I pointed to a sidewalk that apparently led deep into the estate.
We jogged between the blocks, only to realize after a good minute that Sara couldn't keep up with us. At the same moment, we also heard two revolver shots, after which silence fell over the entire estate.
- Oh fuck... whispered Rubble, before we could form any theories as to what actually happened, Sara emerged from behind the dumpster, clutching a smoking revolver and a bag of frozen Russian dumplings... I don't think I have any questions. said Rubble reasonably,
We set off into Łódź, with only ourselves, a box full of ibuprofen, a bag of dumplings and a credit card of some unlucky pensioner.
It was getting late which forced us to make a quick decision. For the rest of the phone battery, we checked where the nearest hotel was located and headed in the right direction.
We looked around all the time, looking for the militia, which was surely already on our trail,
Blending in with the crowd was quite problematic because, unlike the inhabitants of this city, we knew what soap and personal hygiene were. It also didn't help that Rubble was still in boxer shorts and kept reminding us that he was cold and if we didn't get to that hotel soon he would turn himself in to the militia.
Of course he didn't, even though it took us over an hour and a half to reach our destination. I timidly entered the reception area, leaving Rubble and Sara outside.
Out of the three of them, I looked the best, mainly because I had clothes and not being Sarah.
The main hall, which stretched the width of the entire building, looked rather dingy, which didn't surprise me much. I didn't expect too high standards, we just wanted to spend the night somewhere safe, and a lot of things fit that definition.
I timidly walked over to the desk with the "Reception" sign printed on it, praying that the card we had stolen would work and cover the cost of one night's advance payment.
- Good morning, I would like to rent a quadruple room for one night. Two single beds, one double bed. I said in one breath to the young receptionist.
- PLN 300 is due. she said casually, never taking her eyes off a sheet of paper written in Cyrillic.
- How much? ... I started pissed off, but I came to my senses in time,
- The advance payment is PLN 75 ... she added impassively ... Will it be cash or card?
- By card.
I was in a cold sweat. Even if I managed to use the contactless card and pay the fucking advance, it also meant that the militia would immediately receive information on our whereabouts. The only hope I had was that the owner of the card hadn't filed a statement yet, and so far anyone could pay with her card.
With a shaking hand, I brought the card to the terminal. The longer moment during which I almost had a heart attack, and Rubble almost froze to death outside, was interrupted by an enthusiastic beep. The receptionist looked at me for the first time with a look that reminded me too much of Sarah's dull stare.
- Here is your key, room 1408, ninth floor, Enjoy your stay. With a fake smile, I took the key from her, put it and the card in my pocket, and triumphantly walked back to No.
- Are you coming or are you going to stand here all night?
That day, for the first time since time immemorial, I said my evening prayers in gratitude to the Creator for allowing the human species to create such a brilliant invention as the elevator.
I was already mentally preparing myself for the fact that I would have to pull Sara up to the ninth floor with my own hands, just like in our block of flats. But fortunately not, it turned out that this old-fashioned hotel still has a lot to offer, this time surprising us with two elevators that looked as if they were built in the Middle Ages, but at least they worked.
It took us a good quarter of an hour before we managed to squeeze Sara into one of them. It filled all the free space, thus becoming a cuboid.
By then she had already eaten a quarter of our magic ibuprofen box, which didn't bode well as the night was just beginning, but at least she kept her mouth shut and now only occasionally muttered about the Russian dumplings she still kept in her bag, which we had nowhere to cook.
The murmurings finally died down as the elevator doors closed with an unsettling slam and my aunt slowly made her way upstairs.
Rubble and I took the second elevator, which ran long enough for us to realize along the way that we didn't really have a plan.
- We have to get back home somehow... Rubble said revealingly... Maybe we'll check the train schedule tomorrow morning, as far as I know tickets are quite cheap, and we have this credit card that will allow us to pay.
- Surprisingly good idea... I praised it... Let's get some sleepand leave tomorrow as soon as possible.
- Do you think anyone will believe that Sara is responsible for the vast majority of the things we do lately?
- Honestly? If someone spends that much time with her, she'll believe in a lot more. Why can't you have a normal aunt?
- It's not my fault my grandma gave birth to the Antichrist, okay?
The elevator made a noise that sounded like we had finally reached the ninth floor. To our surprise, Sara was already waiting for us there, lying on the floor upside down and juggling frozen dumplings.
I honestly don't know how she squeezed herself out of the elevator on her own, but I wasn't going to complain too much about it, for once I didn't have to babysit her every step of the way.
We picked it up, gently off the floor, and headed down the hall, looking for the door with our room number on it.
Suddenly Rubble slapped his forehead with his hand.
- Now I know what this number reminds me of! ... he yelled at the whole hotel ... There was a story by Stephen King about a haunted hotel room.
- "1408"? I asked as I turned the key in the door that apparently led to our room.
- Yes, this room generally tried to make each of its guests commit suicide by not allowing them to leave or...
- All right, shut the fuck up. I'm so tired that even a haunted room can't keep me from going to sleep. I growled and helped Sarah over the threshold.
Rubble hesitated for a moment, but finally pushed aside his fears and followed us into the room, carefully making sure the door could also be opened from the inside.
Room 1408 looked as shitty as a disaster. On the walls that were the first to catch the eye, you could see the miserable remnants of wallpaper in a nasty color, and on the windows, shreds of what must have once been colorful curtains. The two beds intended for Rubble and me were literally dirty mattresses thrown on a dirty floor.
Only the queen bed intended for Sara still looked like that, at least it was a real bed, the main flaw of which was that each piece of the bedclothes was a sheet, it covered the mattress, served as a quilt, and rolled up into a ball as a pillow.
There was a small nightstand set between the mattresses that looked like it was about to fall apart just looking at it. It was only at the very end of my inspection that I noticed two paintings .
One hung crooked above the marriage bed, and the other between the windows, which were so dirty that nothing could be seen through them. The former depicted a woman lying on a boulder with a couple of cats, and the latter a huge ship with thunderbolts in the background.
Rubble was already asleep, he fell straight on the mattress, the curtain ripped from the curtain rod, and wrapped himself in it
I turned to Sarah to wish her good night, but then I realized she was nowhere to be found.
I looked frantically around the room, finding a small bathroom hidden around the corner by the entrance, but it wasn't there.
I got really scared and woke up Rubble.
He groaned as he looked at me with a hazy pattern and went back to sleep.
So I was left alone. Alone in a supposedly haunted room. I sighed resignedly and staggered out of the room, starving after our fugitive. I started by examining the entire floor, because it seemed quite logical to me to assume that she would rather not squeeze herself into the elevator.
The first door I knocked on was opened by some Russian, behind his back I saw a party getting started, some chick was just peeing in some guy's mouth, and someone else was doing an enema with 2 liters of moonshine
- Good morning, have you seen my... er... aunt? Fat, she had a net with dumplings behind her, a cardboard box ... I began timidly without taking my eyes off what was happening in the background.
Some grandpa just jumped out the window.
You'll have to excuse me now because I don't know Russian for shit, so let me quote the host's answer using two words in Russian that I have mastered to perfection.
- Cyka blyat?
I answered automatically, still catching with my eyes as someone throws his own hand at the wall, which he had bitten off a moment ago.
The Russians, however, know how to make good parties. I only wish I could find Sarah.
I moved on, a few more rooms were apparently empty, in one a couple had sex with the door open, in another someone was cooking drugs on a camp stove.
It was about then that I remembered that I had forgotten to close the door behind me and that Rubble had just slept with the door wide open. I hoped no one would rape him.
My exciting hike was interrupted by a noise coming from the broom cupboard. Honestly, I took a shit because it sounded like someone locked a wild animal inside.
I stood at the door for half a minute before I finally decided to open it and face what was inside. To my surprise, it turned out that the room is not a broom closet at all, but a small hotel kitchen, consisting of a small back room separated from the dining area by a long, dusty countertop.
Sara was bustling about in this relatively small space, apparently looking for something.
- Help you with something?
Sara completely ignored me at first, but when after a fruitless search of cupboards she still hadn't found what she was looking for, she finally decided to answer.
- DUMPLINGS! She roared so loud that it even muffled the music coming from the Russians' room.
I understood then that Sara was trying to cook herself stolen pietogi, which surprised me quite a lot, because once again she wasn't trying to cool us down, but to do something herself.
I went deeper into the kitchen and realized that the only equipment it had was an old, non-working microwave. There wasn't even a fucking stove in it. After a quick search of the shelves hanging high from the ceiling, I managed to find a working electric kettle.
Rubble and I used it many times in our apartment as an alternative to the stove when we didn't feel like cooking sausages or some frozen food, if they were small enough to fit in it at all.
Being a good Samaritan, I put three dumplings in it, because that's all that went in, and I poured a liter of water over it. I then noticed that Sara had ripped them open with a knife and stuffed a handful of ibuprofen into each one.
I wanted to say something, but I decided it was one of those situations where you just shut your mouth and give way to an older, crazy woman. It's like giving up your seat on a bus, except in this case the bus is an electric kettle and you're a dumpling stuffed with painkillers.
Sara squirmed in place as if she had fucking cockroaches on her, it wasn't out of the question, the whole hotel was full of them.
When Sara finally had her fill, she agreed to let us go back to our room. She didn't eat all the dumplings, she saved a dozen or so for later, so I put them back in the bag I had brought with me. We made our way through the corridor, past the Russians' room on the way, which was on fire, and finally we came to the door of 1408, which for some reason was suddenly closed.
I was sure I had left it open, but it's possible Rubble just got up and decided to close it to keep out the smoke.
I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Rubble sat in the middle of the room, wrapped in a curtain, shaking like crazy.
- What the fuck is going on with you? I asked hesitantly, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer to that question.
Rubble looked at me blankly, then glanced at Sarah and the open door. It was the first time I saw a family resemblance in them.
- I TOLD YOU THIS ROOM IS HAUNTED! I SAW GHOSTS, THEY LOCKED ME IN HERE AND WANTED ME TO KILL MYSELF!
- You must have dreamed something.
- Shit, go to the toilet, see for yourself.
Without saying a word, I opened the bathroom door and was hit with a jet of water right in the face.
- Fuck, the faucet's broken, you moron, that's all. I shouted to Rubble as I tried to turn off the faucet in the sink.
- THE GHOSTS DID IT! He shouted back.
I was about to go back to him and punch the crap out of his head, but then I noticed something really disturbing.
There was blood on the walls that the gushing water had not reached. Literally, the entire side wall was splashed with dripping liquid. Just in case, I licked a little to make sure it wasn't jam, but no, unfortunately it wasn't jam, which was a shame because I was craving it.
It wasn't until then that I got the idea to open the bathtub curtain and almost shit myself at the sight of the decomposing corpse.
- Err... Rubble? Did you mention anything about a dead body in our bathtub?
Rubble stopped crying for a moment, only to shout triumphantly
- I SEE! YOU SEE IT TOO! I'M NOT FUCKED! he started screaming louder.
- You are an idiot. I said while taking a closer look at the corpse in our bathroom.
It seemed that the cleaning lady had forgotten to clean the room before we arrived, because what was lying in our bathtub was clearly the remains of a junkie who took his last dose of heroin in this room.
Holy shit, I know it's still Łódź and all, but they could at least take the corpses out sometimes.
I returned to Rubble and Sara, who were standing in the middle of the room looking around dully. For the second time, I saw a family resemblance between them.
- We have the corpse of some junkie in the bathroom, big things to me ... I explained ... Come to sleep, you don't bother my ass.
- But that's not all!... he got annoyed... The pictures came to life! Just like King!
- Holy shit... I sighed and walked over to the painting of the ship... It looks pretty dead to me.
- Water began to flow out of it, look. He pointed to the puddle of water on the floor
I grabbed the frame and pulled the shit off the wall. We found out that there were actually three windows in the room, one of them simply had no glass and was covered with this fucking painting. It was raining outside, so a lot of water was flowing into the room.
- You've got the solution to your fucking riddle. You're fucked up and ghosts don't exist. I'm going to bed.
I threw myself on the mattress, having first made sure that Sarah, full and happy, was safely in bed, and the door was locked with the key, which I hid safely in my pocket. Rubble finally gave up convincing me that the room was haunted and reluctantly went back to sleep, jerking himself up from time to time to make sure no ghosts decided to visit us.
Only now did I notice the unpleasant stench of decomposing corpses, but I was so tired that I didn't really care. I fell asleep around three, thinking about everything that had happened that day.
I woke up at four. At fucking four in the morning. Not alone, of course, but with the help of Rubble, who started hitting me on the head.
- LOOK, I WAS RIGHT! GHOST! He pointed to a blurry figure at the end of the room.
- Oh shit, indeed. I jumped off the mattress abruptly.
Someone was standing against the wall. Or something. Only after a while did I recognize this enigmatic persona.
- Miss Mary?! I shouted in surprise.
when I realized she was our unexpected guest. It was our elderly, ultra-religious neighbor from the block, who recently had the dubious pleasure of meeting Sara.
I felt a bit sorry for her, because she became the prime suspect in the case of smuggling weapons at the airport, which we triggered when we left our hometown, because Sara left her ID at the crime scene.
- Good evening. said Mary in a terrifying tone.
- What are you doing here? asked Rubble, who had calmed down a bit.
He glanced briefly at Sara, who was sound asleep, spread out on her huge bed.
- I died ... she replied ... I am now a ghost.
She did look a little paler than usual, and the assumption that she was indeed dead made more sense than the assumption that she had followed our journey and entered our hotel room at night.
- We're sorry...I said...How did that happen?
- I had a heart attack when the police knocked on my door.
Slowly it dawned on me that Rubble might have been right and that ghosts did exist. So let me ask the most important question
- So when you die, you don't go to Heaven or Hell?
Mary sighed.
- It turned out that those stupid movies were partly right and you can only leave the Earth with a clean slate, having dealt with all the matters that we couldn't finish in life. This is why I am here.
Rubble frowned.
- It meaning?
- In life, I tried to be nice to everyone, and I think I was quite good at it ... she said, sitting on the floor ... But there was one person who spoiled my luck. I was really mean to your aunt, and that's the thing that keeps me from leaving this world for good. So I'm here to help you.
We looked at each other, not knowing what to think about it all.
Sara, meanwhile, woke up from her nap and she probably didn't like the sight of the ghost because she started throwing her dumplings with ibuprofen at her.
- How do you want to help us? I finally asked.
- You can start by escaping from the militia who have just arrived at the hotel. she replied pointing to the window.
We rushed to him at the speed of light to see that the ghost was indeed right. Five police cars have just pulled into the hotel parking lot. We were trapped.
- Fuck, how did they track us down so quickly?... I was surprised... I thought we had at least a dozen or so hours.
- Apparently not... Rubble sighed... What do we do?"
I looked at Sarah and Mary, who was still throwing dumplings at her.
They passed right through it and bounced off the wall, falling with a soft thud to the floor.
- We fight. I said in a tone that was supposed to sound heroic, but unfortunately I hiccuped and all the tension went to fuck.
And so began the most fucked up action we've ever had with Sara.
Militiamen with rifles, probably from the first war, began to pour out of the police cars. We smashed the other two window panes and took up positions.
I lined up in the one on the left, clutching the slingshot found in the nightstand drawer, Rubble in the one on the right, holding dumplings stuffed with ibuprofen, and Sara lined up in the middle, standing proudly with her revolver, which apparently never ran out of ammo.
Mary flew to the parking lot to do a quick reconnaissance and report to us what the situation is and what we are really up against.
Aunt Sarah's last bastion has gone on the offensive.
I started first by firing a slingshot of a piece of paneling wood into the snout of some militiaman who fell to the ground screaming at the top of his voice.
Sara somehow understood this signal to attack and began to fire blindly, hitting the target about once every six shots. Rubble tried to join in, but it took him a while to learn to throw dumplings well enough to hit the ever-moving militiamen.
They managed to reorganize a bit, taking combat positions and responding with fire.
The first round from the rifle was surprisingly accurate and pierced the wall between Sara and me.
Fortunately, Rubble quickly tracked down the delinquent who sent her our way and threw the sharpened leg of the bed at him, impaling him.
More militiamen, encouraged by the defeat of their comrade, started firing.
Bullets flew around us, and we stood in the midst of this chaos like mythological heroes defending their land from an invader. Only some film music was missing. Mary returned shortly after with a report.
- There are exactly twenty of them, all armed with rifles. From what I understand, they're going to call in for backup if casualties are over 50%, so if you're going to kill them, you'd better do it fast.
I looked out the window, taking advantage of the fact that most of the squad was reloading their weapons. I managed to see a maximum of six delinquents, and I even hit one of them with the severed head of the junkie in our bathtub.
- There are too many of them!... shouted Rubble... We don't stand a chance!
- Shit... I shouted back... We have Sarah on our side.
Sarah seemed to be having a great time. For the first time since I'd met her, she had a big, genuine smile on her face. Bullets whizzed around her ears, but she didn't even flinch.
Despite its huge size, the militiamen couldn't even scratch it.
- They're in the hallway. Mary warned us, and I reacted instantly, barricade the door with what was left of the bed.
I literally did it at the last minute because a few seconds later someone was trying to pry it open
Rubble was slowly running out of dumplings, which were his source of ammunition, and he switched to bits of wood we scraped off the walls.
I threw my slingshot at him, focusing all my attention on the defense.
- There are two guests outside the door ... said Mary ... Five more are coming in the elevator.
I gave her a thumbs up and, grabbing the last surviving leg off the bed, swung the door open.
- What are you doing?! Rubble burst out.
Two militiamen rushed in, shouting and brandishing their weapons. They didn't notice, however, that I was standing at the door, prepared for their arrival. With one smooth thrust, I impaled both of them on my makeshift stake and shoved them into the corridor in a flash.
- We have their rifles now. I smiled as I tossed one to Rubble.
- Cool. he smiled and began shooting at some militiaman running around mindlessly in the parking lot.
I grabbed the second rifle and opened the door for a moment. Down the hall I spotted the five militiamen Mary was talking about and mowed them down with a quick burst.
I was shooting for the first time in my life, so I killed a maximum of two of them. Unfortunately, their place was replaced by ten more. I quickly slammed the door and ran to the window. There was already a nice group of militiamen crowding the parking lot, having no idea what to do.
Sarah was still standing at the window, unyielding and impassive. The rhythmic sound of the revolver calmed me, gave me a strange sense of security and control over the situation. Of course, we didn't have this control, it was only a matter of time before they would pick us up and send us to prison. Then something happened that made my blood run cold.
The entire wall on which the windows were located could not withstand the continuous shelling and broke away from the rest of the building in an instant. Rubble managed to jump back at the last moment, but Sara was not so lucky. It was leaning against the edge of the window and fell with the rest of the facade down, straight to the police cars standing underneath.
- SARA!... Rubble yelled as he watched his aunt go up all the floors to the ground in lightning speed... What am I going to tell my mom now?
Before I could say or do anything, Mary appeared,
- Your aunt is fine... she said calmly... Her enormous weight saved her from injury. I checked, she breathing.
Her words were confirmed by several bangs coming from below, indicating that Sara had just started to exterminate the militiamen who were there. It was so impressive that she was lying on the stoves, unable to get up after the fall.
- Jesus maria, I think I'm having a heart attack... Rubble confessed to me... We have to go down to her.
- We can't go down the stairs or down the elevator, there's a whole garrison of these grandparents... I said... I have a better idea.
You know, there comes a time in everyone's life when they have to risk everything. When he has to risk everything, even his own life, not knowing if he has any chance of success, That was the moment in my life. Without thinking too much about it, I walked to the edge of the floor, looked down at Sarah on her back, and prayed quickly to the gods of all religions and mythologies.
And then I jumped, I never thought Sara's overweight would save my life. I flew NINE FUCKING FLOORS. This is a huge height that simply guarantees instant death.
The only known exception that defied this rule was Sarah, who shared some of her power with me. I fell straight onto her bulging belly and bounced off it like a springboard.
I rolled to the side, hiding behind the burning police car and, panting with emotion, poked my head over the hood.
Rubble popped up literally moments later. Watching its flight, I was afraid that it would miss Sara's belly by literally a few meters, but fortunately it did not happen and, like me, it survived the fall unscathed.
I got up quickly to help him up, and together we lifted Sarah from the parking lot, who was still firing.
Not only that, with her free hand she picked up the dumplings Rubble used to shoot at the militiamen and ate them with relish.
- Over there. I pointed my finger at the empty police car that was parked in the back.
We heaved Sara up and ran as fast as we could, heading towards him. We tossed her into the backseat and were delighted to discover that the keys were safely in the ignition. For one moment that was far too long, I breathed a sigh of relief, unable to believe we had escaped such a bad situation.
Mary snapped me back to reality by yelling in my ear.
- GO! So I went.
We drove for several hours looking for militia or police patrols, but we were lucky again, once again. There was almost enough fuel. Rubble and Sara slept most of the way, snoring incredibly loudly. I was kept company by Mary, who of course did not need to sleep. Thanks to her, I managed to stay awake behind the wheel and, despite being extremely tired, I finally reached our block of flats.
It seemed to me that we had been gone forever, when in fact it had only been two days. I stopped even thinking about what had happened and just focused on the weather.
It was beautiful, perfect for goodbyes. Of course, I didn't know then that we were going to say goodbye, it only became clear when we got home.
Rubble's parents' car was parked outside our stairwell, and they greeted us far too enthusiastically for the circumstances, asking how it was in Rome, why we had returned early, and why their son had no clothes. We answered some of the questions no.
It was obvious that we couldn't tell them what really happened, so we thought up a few stories on the spot inspired by the events of the last few weeks.
- By the way, guys, your neighbor Mary died yesterday. Rubble's mother said at one point.
Poor woman. Rubble and I looked at Mary, smiling against the wall.
- Yes, we know. Nasty business.
At that moment, our dead neighbor began to melt. Apparently, she did her job, finally leaving the earthly valley and leaving us forever. I thought about all the funny situations with her, how wonderful a person she was
Before she completely turned into a puff of steam, she only managed to whisper a quiet "thank you guys."
I must admit, a few tears spun in my eye as I watched him leave this world for the last time.
As for Sara... Well, Rubble's parents came to pick her up, of course. They reportedly found her a nice retirement home where she could spend the rest of her life in peace.
So we were forced to say goodbye to not one, but two people. And kill me, but I couldn't bring myself to it. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's Stockholm syndrome, but I loved Sarah. I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth, but after everything we've been through together, I just couldn't accept that Rubble and I would go back to being the normal gray students we were before she arrived.
You see, maybe I've been throwing around too many "golden" thoughts lately and the events of the last few weeks have made me more sentimental, but I have something else to say.
The time we spent with Sara, all the adventures we had together, are the kind of things we don't realize we need.
Cutting off from everyday life, from boredom and monotony ... fuck, this is something worth risking your life for. When I approached her one last time and pressed her farewell gift, which was a case of ibuprofen tied with a bow, I didn't know what to say.
I've waited for this moment for so long, and when it finally came... I didn't want it to end.
Rubble stood next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He didn't say anything, he knew how I felt because he probably felt exactly the same way. I slowly looked up and stared straight into Sarah's dull eyes, which showed absolutely no emotion.
- Goodbye ... I said theatrically and turned on my heel. After a little thought, I turned around and added... Auntie.
