Сумерки
Chapter 1
SometimesIwonderedifIwasseeingthesamethingsthroughmyeyesthattherestoftheworldwasseeingthroughtheirs.Maybetherewasaglitchinmybrain.Butthecausedidn’tmatter.Allthatmatteredwastheeffect.Andtomorrowwouldbejustthebeginning.
Ididn’tsleepwellthatnight,evenafterIwasdonecrying.Theconstantwhooshingoftherainandwindacrosstheroofwouldn’tfadeintothebackground.Ipulledthefadedoldquiltovermyhead,andlateraddedthepillow,too.ButIcouldn’tfallasleepuntilaftermidnight,whentherainfinallysettledintoaquieterdrizzle.
ThickfogwasallIcouldseeoutmywindowinthemorning,andIcouldfeeltheclaustrophobiacreepinguponme.Youcouldneverseetheskyhere;itwaslikeacage.
BreakfastwithCharliewasaquietevent.Hewishedmegoodluckatschool.Ithankedhim,knowinghishopewaswasted.Goodlucktendedtoavoidme.Charlieleftfirst,offtothepolicestationthatwashiswifeandfamily.Afterheleft,Isatattheoldsquareoaktableinoneofthethreeunmatchingchairsandexaminedhissmallkitchen,withitsdarkpaneledwalls,brightyellowcabinets,andwhitelinoleumfloor.Nothingwaschanged.Mymotherhadpaintedthecabinetseighteenyearsagoinanattempttobringsomesunshineintothehouse.Overthesmallfireplaceintheadjoininghandkerchief-sizedfamilyroomwasarowofpictures.
