《Throwing Dice》


 Prologue

    When I gain consciousness, the first thing I can feel is the taste of blood in my mouth and its smell in the insides of my nose. My breathing is odd, and my eyes are only half open. It takes me a while to make out which position I''m in right now: I''m lying on my back, though there''s no telling whether what''s below me is soft or hard. The little I can see and hear feels like everything.


    It''s all and it''s nothing, at the same time. There''s light but also dark, loud noise but also silence. And all the things in between, too. Everything is simultaneous and desperating; and everything feels like a plan to stop me from breathing.


    I try to get up, but no use. Everything hurts. I would say that what just came out of my mouth was a groan, but I couldn''t hear it so much as feel it leaving my throat.


    I fall on my side, and everything still hurts. My insides are throbbing, while my outside feels as though it''s being swallowed by something empty. There''s pain coming from my chest, making its way up the back of my neck and stopping at my eyes. My eyes¡ªwhat is this¡ªare they about to pop out? Would it be a relief or just add to the pain?This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Throbbing, and throbbing, and throbbing. I don''t think this will stop any time soon. I feel a sudden urge to die.


    I want to die.


    I want to die, but what if I''m already dead? Is this what death feels like¡­?


    Someone¡ªanyone, anyone really¡ªcome and take me.


    I think I''m crying. Whatever is coming out of my eyes is warm and almost comforting. My sight is blurry.


    I manage to hold out my hand before my face. Doing this makes me groan again, an empty sound. What I see is to be expected, I think¡­ One of my fingers is broken in what appears to be close to a ninety-degree angle¡­ my knuckles are swollen¡­ the hand is almost entirely purple, except where it shows shades of red and pink I''ve never seen before. There''s a big cut and my veins feel like they''re popping out.


    ...how am I conscious? I think. What is this place, and how did I...


    ¡­I have to get out of h¡­

 Ch. 1A - Valya (1)

    Three years later


    I turn off my alarm at six in the morning. It is already bright outside, and a beam of light illuminates my room. It brightens up the white-painted wall in front of me, making my eyes squint. I hate this.


    This is my last day, then, I think.


    It''s not like the alarm woke me up¡ªI usually don''t need any help for that¡ªbut I still want to stay in bed. I want to stay here all day, staring at nothing, keeping my eyes open to avoid unnecessary thoughts. I don''t want to make the bed or to get everything ready to move out¡­ But I get up regardless. Every day has been like this for three years; today should be no different.


    I follow my usual routine: walk to the tiny bathroom, brush my teeth, have a quick shower, dry my body. Leave the bathroom with my body wrapped in a towel, open the wardrobe and choose among clothes that look almost all the same. Put on my binder, then a black long-sleeved turtleneck, then pants and socks. Dry my hair with the dryer and get it looking like usual¡ªa bowl. All this takes about twenty minutes.


    Then, the things that don''t follow my everyday routine: put the chair in front of the open wardrobe, climb on it, get a huge suitcase from the top shelf. Put the suitcase on the bed, open it and sneeze from the thin layer of dust it accumulated since the last time I vacuumed the wardrobe.


    Another unusual thing is the knock on my door so early in the morning.


    I let out a loud Hm.


    ¡°Morning, Valya,¡± says the voice on the other side of the door. I can tell who it is. ¡°It''s Stasya and Anton. We''re here to pick you up!¡±


    ¡°Can we come in?¡± asks Anton.


    Before they can knock again, I turn the doorknob¡ªthere isn''t a lock¡ªand open the door. Stasya and Anton are standing there, smiling, their coats folded and hanging from their elbows, their height difference as apparent as always. They let out a low ¡°Good morning!¡± in unison and stare at me.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°You''re too early,¡± I say.


    ¡°Tsk,¡± Anton frowns. ¡°We figured you hadn''t gotten anything ready to move out, so we came to help. You''re welcome.¡±


    ¡°Were we wrong?¡± Stasya''s smile goes from friendly to almost threatening in a second.


    ¡°No,¡± I sigh, defeated. ¡°Come in.¡±


    We get my stuff ready to go in no time. All I own is a tablet and a keyboard, my phone, a few clothes, a blanket¡ªthe only one in the room that doesn''t belong to the clinic¡ªand my toiletries. I also have a box with all my books and journals in it. I put what I can inside a backpack, which Stasya volunteers to carry, and the rest goes in the suitcase, which I roll around. Anton is left with the book box, and we leave my room without looking back. I hated that place; no need to cry while closing the door or saying goodbye to the view.


    We have breakfast in the cafeteria, which is still quite empty. I don''t see Kolja around; it must be too early.


    ¡°How did they even let you guys in this early?¡± I ask.


    ¡°We called last night saying we''d be helping you out today,¡± Stasya replies. ¡°The morning doorman already knew.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I say, looking at the table with all the paper napkins and emptied-out orange juice cups. ¡°Shall we go now?¡±


    Leaving the building after checking out, I don''t look back again. All I do is wait for the doorman, Ivan, to say something stupid. Even this has become routine.


    ¡°Going home already, boy?¡± Ivan almost shouts when he sees us leave.


    ¡°You bet,¡± I say without looking at him. ¡°And don''t call me boy.¡±


    ¡°I''m gonna miss you.¡± Disgusting.


    ¡°I bet you are, grandpa,¡± I wave my hand at him.


    We head towards the taxi in front of the clinic. I have a feeling Ivan isn''t done yet.


    ¡°Remember you can''t act as crazy out there as you did in here, will you?¡± he shouts from the entrance, not mindful of those still sleeping. I was right.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    The three of us get in the taxi. I bet the ogre is still watching.


    ¡°You''re finally free,¡± says Stasya as the driver starts the car.


    I wish she were right. I wish I could agree and say Yes, finally, but that just isn''t the case. And it will not be as long as I am here, in Mirnaya.


    ¡°Let''s go,¡± I say as the taxi drifts away from the place I never called home in the last three years.

 Ch. 1A - Valya (2)

    My room at Stasya and Anton''s house is smaller than the one I stayed in at the clinic, but that''s not a problem. I promised them I won''t stay for long, but my tone gave away how uncertain I am about that. You can stay for as long as you need, Stasya said. Rent will be cheap and you''ll get a month for free.


    Which is too much, as I told her, since they already paid for three year''s worth of clinic fees. But she won''t listen. Say, Valya¡­ Don''t you think we can figure this out later? She changed the subject upon saying that, telling me to get my stuff ready because we''ll be going out tonight. I can''t help but smile at this, because¡­


    I think you would like Stasya, Max. She''s always leaving things for later, just like you. I wonder if you still do that. I remember you would desperately ask me for help with your homework, having left it to the last minute because you decided to play instead of getting it done. You used to act like a grown-up and wave your hands, I''ll do it later. Mama and Papa scolded you for that sometimes, but we always laughed, in the end.


    I realize I''m crying. This has happened so many times. I should have learned, by now, that recalling these moments is useless. Smiling never lasts. I wipe away my tears and start unpacking.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    We walk along the streets at night, our breath showing in the cold air, our noses red from the freezing breeze. Anton has half his face covered by a dark scarf; Stasya and I have our hair trapped inside beanies. The absence of snow is a miracle. The cold doesn''t stop anyone from going outside, though: the street is busy and every club and bar I see is crowded inside. That''s how it used to be back home, too.


    We make our way into a bar and sit down at a table Stasya reserved for us. The two of them are already ordering drinks and thinking about appetizers, while I''m unsure if it''s a good idea to have alcohol. It''s been a while since I last drank¡ªmaybe six months?¡ªand even then, it was less than a bottle of beer that Kolja sneaked into the clinic. I end up surrendering to a small bottle, but I promise myself it will be my only one tonight.


    This is my first night out in three years. I might have forgotten what it''s like to be in a crowded restaurant, for the noise around us is making me dizzy. There''s the sound of glass against glass against wooden tables, chatter, laughter, background music. There''s waiters walking around constantly and people going to the toilets not too far from our table. I want to be here, but at the same time¡­ I can''t stop thinking about my bed.


    So this is what it''s like to be unsupervised¡ªI had forgotten that, too. Even when Kolja and I were left alone in the yard, there were still cameras watching us and nurses strolling around. Though Anton and Stasya probably think they need to watch over me, it''s not the same as it was at the clinic. It feels as though the leash around my neck has been loosened up, and I am surely grateful for that; but this is not yet the feeling I had been expecting. Because truth be told¡­ I have no idea where to go from here.


    Where to go? is what I can''t stop thinking about. And what to do?

 Ch. 1A - Valya (3)

    As Anton and Stasya chat with me about the lightest things¡ªthey seem to understand that I can''t handle too much conversation¡ªI can''t help but wonder, What is my plan?


    I can''t afford to lose myself in thought at a place like this, but my mind won''t stop repeating, Three years should have been enough. It should have been enough for you to come up with something. Come up with something, Valya. You need to go back, you need to go back¡­ I need to go back, and my head is spinning around this thought. And it won''t stop¡­


    ¡°Do you have a cigarette and lighter?¡± I ask Stasya as I get up all of a sudden, confusing the two. She nods and hands them to me, letting out a low-voiced ''sure.'' ¡°Excuse me.¡± I grab my coat and leave.


    It''s even colder outside, but the cigarette warms me up a bit. I shouldn''t have left so suddenly, I tell myself. At least the cigarette is helping me slow down my thoughts a little.


    ¡°Hey, kid.¡±


    I look to the side and see Anton walking towards me, lighting up his own cigarette.


    ¡°What about Stasya?¡± I ask as he leans his back against the wall, by my side.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°She''s getting the bill.¡±


    ¡°But it''s still this early,¡± I say, making him look at his watch.


    ¡°Hm, yeah¡± he mumbles. ¡°It''s late enough. Going out on a night like this¡­ It can be a lot for you, right? We should have known better.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°You two don''t need to look after me, you kn¡ª¡±


    ¡°That''s not what we''re doing,¡± Anton cuts me off. ¡°I couldn''t stand being inside that place for much longer, either, so don''t overthink it.¡±


    I chuckle.


    ¡°Let''s go?¡± Stasya comes out of the bar and smiles at us.


    ¡°Let''s go,¡± I say, putting out my cigarette.


    On the way back, the streets are still busy, though less crowded than before. Despite the cold, it''s nice to walk outside at night. The lights are comforting and almost make up for the overwhelming chatter around us; the people seem happy about going out on a Friday night, which turns out is a feeling I want to live aga¡ª


    A man walks past me, and for a second I''m sure I recognize him. But my eyes are almost half closed because of the cold breeze, hampering my sight. I look back to spot him again, the cold burning my eyes, but I can no longer see him in the crowd.


    What was that¡­?


    ¡°Valya?¡± Anton calls. ¡°Everything alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it''s all good¡­¡± I sigh.


    That was just my mind playing games again¡­ Yeah, that''s probably what it was.


    I''ve gone crazy, after all.

 Ch. 1B - Maxim (1)

    ¡°Go to Mirnaya!¡± says the man on a platform in the middle of the square. ¡°Live a prosperous life and build a brighter future for you and your family!¡± He waves his hand up and down as he speaks, emotional and loud. The crowd around the platform makes notes on their cellphones, eager to save the addresses he keeps advertising. ¡°Get registered at the Citizen Ministry Enrollment Center on State Street number 12, open on working days from eight to six! Families with two or more children get a discount! State Street number 12, open on working days from eight to six! Go to Mirnaya! Live a prosperous life and build¡­¡±


    He goes on and on, non-stop, as the mutating crowd nods and considers building a brighter future in Mirnaya.


    I feel sick. I can sense an urge to turn away and leave, but the phenomenon happening in front of me is drawing my attention too strongly. If it weren''t for the current state of things, I think, maybe I, too, would be taking my phone and writing down what the man is saying.


    But I find the strength to turn away and leave. I realize that what was happening on that platform was so magnetic that it made me unconsciously walk past my station.


    Though the streets are busy around this time, the subway is not; my way home from school is peaceful as always, and so is my way up the creaky stairs of the apartment building.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°I''m home,¡± I say as I close the door behind me. I hear a surprised oh! coming from the kitchen. It''s Levi, who spends his days off baking bread, and he''s peeking out the kitchen door.


    ¡°I thought you were coming later,¡± he says. ¡°Didn''t you have a book club meeting today?¡±


    ¡°It was cancelled, so I left once class was over. ¡± I reply, placing my bag, coat, gloves, and scarf on the random chair beside the entrance. ¡°Is Inga having dinner with us tonight?¡±


    Levi peeks out the kitchen again. ¡°Yeah, she''ll be home earlier than usual today.¡± He goes back inside and comes out with a tray of bread. ¡°Why, you wanna talk to her about something?¡±


    I look down at my hands. ¡°We arranged to go to the park tomorrow morning, since we''re both free¡­ So I wanted to ask her if the plan''s still up.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that.¡± Levi pouts as he puts three plates on the table. ¡°I wish I could go with you guys, but I have work.¡±


    I wish he could come with us, too, but I don''t know how to say that, so I just start walking towards the corridor.


    ¡°Don''t you want some bread and cheese?¡± he asks, getting a slice of cheese for himself.


    ¡°I''ll take a shower first.¡±


    And so I leave his sight.

 Explaining Throwing Dice

    Explaining Mirnaya


    What are Nebesa and Mirnaya?


    Nebesa and Mirnaya are futuristic city-states existing in parallel dimensions. The two are fairly different from each other. While there is a way to go from Nebesa to Mirnaya, a way back is still unknown.


    How does one go from Nebesa to Mirnaya?


    Nebesa''s advanced technology has allowed for a "passage" between the two parallels. More information is to be released throughout the story.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    There is a group, the Mirnaya Transfer Group (MTG), responsible for sending people from Nebesa to Mirnaya. These people are aware that there is no way back, but they seek a better quality of life in the other dimension, thus paying the MTG for their "transfer."


    How did Valya end up in Mirnaya?


    Valya is a Nebesan citizen who, despite never paying the MTG to be transferred, ended up in Mirnaya. The way this happened is yet to be disclosed to readers :)


    How far in the future is this story set?


    Nebesa and Mirnaya do not follow real-world timelines. The year is 1683 in the Nebesan Calendar. Since this is a futuristic light-cyberpunk story, the reader can imagine a society 150 years in the future.

 Ch. 1B - Maxim (2)

    I''m tired. But if I slept right now, I would be even more tired once I woke up. I''m hungry, too, but not enough to get out of bed for food. So I''ll just stay lying here, in silence.


    It''s finally Friday. I have always been the type to look forward to the weekend more than anything else. That''s what Inga and Levi always say. I vaguely remember going outside with my mom and my sibling during the weekend to play in the snow, years ago. We used to call those days Snow Saturdays. When it got too cold to play outside, I ran to the living room, and Papa would let me watch him play the piano closely. I sat on his lap and wondered how his indelicate hands could play so elegantly. Sometimes, he would improvise¡­


    What do you want to hear, Maxim? he would ask me.


    B Minor! I replied. And Papa made up something just for me. There were times I liked what he was playing so much that he wrote it down for the future.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Saturdays were the days when Mama wasn''t at the lab and Papa wasn''t at the State Music Hall. Valya gave themself more free time, too, and offered me more attention. They''re eight years older, but still spent so much time with me¡­ We would also watch movies together, and since they let me choose, it was always the same two animations, repeated every single weekend.


    I think some children are na?vely happy, but I was not. I know it was genuine, almost out of a children''s book. And that happiness was the reason I looked forward to the weekend so much, back then. But only back then.


    What today I reminisce so sadly will sound like distant fiction in the future. One day, I''ll completely forget it, I''m sure. I won''t even be able to tell whether or not I miss it. There are no longer Snow Saturdays, and this apartment doesn''t have a piano, let alone a pianist. I no longer have parents, and Valya¡­ It''s like they''re gone. Today, I want Saturdays to come soon because it is ok if I don''t get any sleep. Because there are times¡­ When simply closing my eyes is enough to bring back something I don''t want to see.

 Ch. 1B - Maxim (3)

    Inga rarely comes home for dinner. She usually stays at work until ten at night, coming home only for sleep. She''s free in the morning and has breakfast with me. Then, we both ride the subway to the Academic Center and part ways midway between the City Library and my school. She brings work to the library and writes reports until twelve-thirty, when she makes her way to the lab to start work officially. Levi says she''s overworked (not that he''s any different), and I agree, but Inga looks surprisingly young for her age. I think working like crazy doesn''t affect her that much.


    Levi works at the same lab, but he takes the morning shift. While Inga is there from one in the afternoon to eleven at night, he works from eight in the morning to six in the afternoon, so their schedules overlap a bit. He, too, has breakfast with me, but takes a different subway line to work and stays at home when not working. Another difference is that Levi works from Tuesday through Saturday, giving him and Inga only one day off in common: Sunday. The two of them used to work together, but Inga took Mama''s position after the incident three years ago.


    But today, a Friday, we''re all having dinner together. For some reason, Levi didn''t have to go to work and Inga was told she would be dismissed earlier, so Levi got excited and baked two kinds of bread and bought fancy cheese and wine to celebrate this odd reunion.


    I feel like I should be enjoying this moment more. Levi and Inga are chatty and enthusiastic¡ªthey''re only serious when needed¡ªbut I''m silent. Again.


    ¡°How was your book club meeting?¡± Inga asks, smiling at me as always.


    ¡°It was cancelled,¡± Levi and I say in unison.


    Inga pouts. ¡°Hmph, too bad. What book was it again?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°The Building of Emptiness by Lyosha Igorev,¡± I reply, staring at the bread and cheese in front of me.


    ¡°Hm, can''t say I''ve read that one,¡± says Inga, taking another sip of her wine.


    ¡°Me neither,¡± adds Levi.


    ¡°It''s good,¡± I say, and they both look surprised that I''m saying something without being directly asked about it. ¡°You guys would like it. I have a copy of it, if you want.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course!¡± Inga celebrates. ¡°I''ll give it a read over the holidays.¡±


    The book really was good. It''s about a man who doesn''t know if what he feels is real happiness or simply crumbs of it that disproportionately make up for years of suffering. It''s deep and well-written (not that I''m a reasonable reviewer). They say that what matters when reading a book is how it makes you feel. But the truth is I didn''t feel much reading The Building of Emptiness.


    Or any book, lately.


    To be honest, I''ve gotten used to feeling nothing at almost all moments of my life. It might be the medication for my brain, or perhaps it''s the remnants of the pain from three years ago. I can''t even say I feel empty¡ªit''s as if I''m full of something I don''t know. Or something I don''t want. When I don''t encounter despair from my dreams, I''m given nothingness.


    Sometimes I think I''m not entitled to feelings. I tell myself that experiencing happiness after what happened would make me a traitor; or that feeling sorrow now would be unfair, after all they went through. And I believe me.


    Maybe this is punishment for something I might have committed, something I''m yet to become aware of. Because nothingness might be at the border with pain.

 Ch. 1B - Maxim (4)

    I wake up early the next day after a rare night of no nightmares. Unusually, I can''t remember what I dreamt of. Anything that doesn''t have me waking up screaming is good enough. I get up without much struggle and take a quick shower before Inga wakes up, and I can see Levi was in the bathroom shortly before me from the light steam fogging the mirror. I set the table for two, make coffee and prepare three toasts¡ªtwo for Inga and one for me¡ªand wait for her to come have breakfast. By the time we leave the apartment, it is eight-twenty.


    We make our way down the stairs and into the street. The breeze is colder in the morning, and the streets are empty this early on a Saturday. There''s a newsstand selling a few papers¡ªI don''t know why these still exist¡ªand a couple of old people sitting on the bench next to it. Other than that, nothing.


    ¡°It''s cold,¡± Inga says, rubbing her hands.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± is my standard reply.


    These are the words we exchange shortly before getting hot chocolate from the kiosk standing one block away from our place. The park is three blocks after that. We sit on a bench and drink our hot chocolate, me thinking about how unusually clear the sky looks today, Inga wondering what to say to me (or so I guess).


    ¡°Did you ask me to walk with you today because it''s been three years?¡± she asks. I was right, but this is more straightforward than I predicted.


    ¡°The anniversary was yesterday,¡± I say.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Is that the reason you and Levi didn''t go to work?¡± I ask in my usual monotone. ¡°So you could stay with me?¡±


    ¡°That was a coincidence.¡± Inga takes a sip of her hot chocolate. ¡°A practical one.¡±


    ¡°Practical?¡±


    ¡°Did you speak to Anya yesterday?¡± she asks, ignoring my question and looking at me. I shake my head. ¡°I could have texted her for you. Scheduled an appointment.¡±


    ¡°I only go to therapy on Mondays.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡±


    And this is the end of our dialogue. It''s our cue to stand up, walk one more block, in silence, and arrive at the clinic. This place is clean as ever, the walls white and clear, doctors and nurses walking around quietly. They''re calm¡ªafter all, a place like this doesn''t see a lot of emergencies.


    We make our way to the elevator and go up two floors; walk straight along the wide corridor and turn left; find the second door to the right; have the nurse open it for us; and go in. The room isn''t as clear as everything else: the blinds block away the light this time of the day, and the walls aren''t white like the ones outside the room. Instead, a moss green tone covers them up, not matching the dark-blue chairs beside the bed. I sit on one of them and look at Inga. Our lives are full of cues. This is her cue to leave the room with the nurse, leaving me alone with them.


    They have a tube going into their mouth and down their throat. Their eyes are closed, as always, and their breathing is steady and noisy. The color of their skin is frighteningly pale, and their nails, longer than the last time I visited. The machine next to the bed is going beep-beep at a constant pace, showing their heartbeat in a green, up and downward sloping line. They look much thinner than three years ago, but that''s to be expected. Everything I see is to be expected. It''s what I see every time.


    And as always, I''m too scared to hold their hand.


    ¡°Hi, Valya,¡± I say.