I

What time is it? Noon? Eghh. Sonya will kill me. Oh god I hear her. I’ll pretend I’m asleep.

Oh good it’s just Marina. She’ll let me–OK OK sheesh I’m up. Phew. Go find some other geese to bother will ya.

Where am, oh wow I’m on the floor. Great. Now I’ll be sore all day again. Huh, nothing new there. Speaking of which, where’s that sorry excuse for a doctor? Heh, I like it when the professor calls him that. It’s always fun to see Mr. Nature Lover blow a fuse once in a while at the professor’s incessant grumbling. Makes me believe for a second that I’m not the only one suffering around here because of him. Yes, if there’s one thing the professors good for it’s pushing other people’s buttons. Gets everyone nice and riled up and for once they see him in all his nasty glory. Refreshing to watch people get a taste of the sour soup he’s been feeding me all these years.

Ah, looks like the old doctor’s still lingering about. Waiting for the royal caravan to return, with the enthroned Excellency carried on the back of Waffles, while my mother feeds him grapes and Sonya fans him to keep him from boiling in his homemade hazmat. Of course he’ll dragging Yelena in his cage, the latest in his string of captured lovers.

Oh here he comes, the King Roach himself. Maybe now we can finally have something to drink… Hah. I see I see. Typical. And off they go again.

And then she arrives. Psh. Strolling in like she owns the place. Casually brushing past the swing because you know she wants to but wouldn’t want to look like a child in front of the guests. And there she goes again.

I have this terrible fear that my adoration of her is like the household joke when I’m not around. Doesn’t she know I’m not joking?

II

I can hear that old fish gasping for breath next door, flapping around on the floor, dragging on his wretched existence. Does she realize that she’s just his toy? That she’s just one of his many caretakers, one of his pets? Ugh. I can’t listen to them squabble any longer. If I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon, I might as well give him hell while I can.

And Sonya’s arrived as well, Marina now too. He’s got his little entourage now doesn’t he?

Oh now that I’m in the room, it’s time for you to get to bed, eh? Hm. A convenient sickness, isn’t it, drawing sympathy and attention at all the right moments. It’s smart. A devilish and cruel way to finish off life, by sapping the energy of the young. Hell, I might even take a page from his book someday. Except by then I’ll have nobody to sap any energy from, everyone will be dried up and spent. Sonya’s aging faster by the day, for all the work she does…

At least Yelena agrees that his presence here is parasitic. But she’d never guess that she’s doing the same to me… That really she’s the one keeping me awake, making me ache all the time. If I had someone to complain to I’d complain. That’s what really separates me and that old curmudgeon… I don’t have anyone to complain to.

Why does she drift away just as we find ourselves alone? What’s all this high-falutin’ bullshit about things going to hell around here, about a degradation of morality? Oh geez, sounds like she’s been listening to Mr. Astrov the Forestwalker. I mean love that man for our shared hatred of most things sentient, but all this preaching about our ethical duty to the grasshoppers and whatnot… Reminds me of the dribble that my mother spews on all of us while we’re trying to have a nice quiet breakfast.

Sometimes I can’t tell if Yelena has totally given up on trying to make anything of her life. Sheesh, she still has plenty of steam left, far as I can see, yet she throws her fortune of beauty and intellect into the fire just to warm the professor’s legs. Aaaaaaa. Where is she? It’s like she’s walked off into the storm. If she could just look at me for once and not see a puppy that she has to put a leash around and take for a walk. It’s either that or she treats me like a… Oh god. An uncle.

III

Sonya seems moodier than usual. Probably because I haven’t done any practically work since September. Yelena, she’s about to snap. When you have nothing to do and all you do is stew in your own regrets… Well, join the club, Yelena. Join the club. Hah. If she snaps, maybe she’ll finally do something with her life. Hm.

Oh, maybe I’m being too harsh on her. I just don’t want her to end up like me. She still has a chance to be… amazing. All she is now is a shell, drained dry by that bloodsucking good-for-nothing snob.

Does it even matter what I bring her? Does she immediately file my gifts away, hand them off to someone else? Does she ridicule my gestures when I’m not around? Or maybe she thinks they’re cute. God that would be the worst. To be “cute” to her. Ugh.

Let’s not think that way today, OK? Let me give it one more go. If she barely turns to look at what I have, well then I won’t come back tomorrow. If she’s going to continue to dangle the carrot, then I’ll just leave. But today, let me give it a go. Last time, I’ll promise myself that. It’s a great bouquet anyways.

Hah. Hah. Of course. Yes yes yes. I get it. Funny! Alright, you’ve won. You’ve beaten me. Astrov, you’re the better man. Yelena, I played your game, now it’s done. I’ll just leave these and you can laugh about them later. Hah! I love it! Such nuance, such intrigue! You both are hilarious. Just hilarious. Alright, goodbye. I’ll leave you two to twist the knife in my back just a little more.

Oh, and now’s the time for the daily salt on the wound. Oh yes, your excellency, you have nailed my ear to the wall. Listening. Rapt. Speak your damn mind. Oh wow, and she has the nerve to pretend like nothing’s happened.

Am I hearing… Oh. I always thought that he walked around like he owned the place… But this. Uh huh. Well. Here I go then, I’ll let him have it! Now’s the time, then! Here, take it! All the words you’ve been ignoring while you’ve made a grand fraud of yourself as a university professor! Here, take it!

Not listening, I see. Nobody is. OK then! Now’s the time! Yes! This is your day! Congratulations! You won’t hear me? Well, I’m sure you’ll listen this time.

IV

What a turn. The Professor and I have switched roles. Now, I seem to be the household invalid, the toddler that everyone has to babysit. They keep me away from ledges, sharp objects.

They say that I never acted upon my convictions, but now that I finally take action they want to strap me to a chair. And to have the doctor do it himself. This is really adding insult. I mean, a man who I once thought was my equal has now been tasked to keep me in line.

So now I truly am old. Spoonfed. Contained. Ignored. Fine, Sonya, you can have it. Here. Here it is. My only way out of this place.

So I suppose Yelena thinks this is all my doing. By acting wildly I’ve officially absorbed all guilt. There’s no talking my way out of it. I’m officially the number one reason for everything going to shit. All the evidence I’ve been gathered for my case… As if it had any effect on them… This case… I’ve lost it all.

And I suppose she won’t be able to look at me when the time comes. I suppose she’ll turn her head away in disgust.

Hmmm. Only pleasantries from her. I’m impressed she had the composure. And I’m left with little to say in return. Ha. All this time I’ve been blabbering on and for once I have nothing to say back to her but “Goodbye.”

The professor took no time, I see, to recover from his imaginary bullet wounds. As spry and irritating as always. Well, I hope his dacha is full of people to listen to his endless complaining. Or else, what could he possibly do? Work? His writing doesn’t qualify.

Work. No, that’s my occupation… something to keep me busy until my time. Now there’s nobody of interest to bother. Just me and Sonya, the estate and all its workforce. I suppose I’ll sleep more soundly.

-Vanya (via Thomas)