3

“Anastasia Andreevna, please,” I pleaded, looking at the inflexible boss, “I swear it was the last time!”

“I already said everything,” looking from me to the screen of her laptop, a middle-aged woman with a tight bun of black hair on her head adjusted her glasses and waved her hand towards the door. - You can take the calculation and the work book from the personnel department.

- But I…

- I said everything! - Interrupting my next attempt to justify myself, the boss, apparently already a former one, cast an expectant glance at me from under her brows. - You can go!

Mentally swearing, I turned around and left the office, not forgetting to slam the door heartily. It was a shame to lose my job, to the point of tears, but I perfectly understood that it was my own fault. Five late arrivals in two weeks - who needs such an employee? And it's on probation! But I can’t help myself - waking up in the morning to get ready and arrive at work on time has become an impossible task for me. As soon as night falls, sleep does not come. That's it! And I went to the doctor, and I tried more than one kind of sleeping pills - nothing helps. Night work, what to start looking for? Loader? Rave! It’s not very easy for me to find a day job, let alone night shifts. Who needs a nineteen-year-old pigal without education with eternal problems with sleep and the absence of at least some slightest connections? To remember at least someone from my life,

- Didn't manage to dissuade the grymzu? - for mental reasoning, I myself did not notice how I went into the office of Oksana, temporarily acting as a personnel officer. - Fired?

- Uh-huh, - I nodded to the girl, holding out my hand for a work book.

I didn’t want to talk at all, but with Oksana you can hang for two hours talking about nothing.

“Oh, what a pity,” she began to lament, not noticing my laconic mood, “and I was so hoping that you would be able to persuade her!” You know, we even had a bet with Mishka, the driver, for a chocolate bar that you would stay! Damn, now he will have to buy tiles! Masha, how is it?

- Do you feel sorry for me, or the spoiled chocolate bar? - I indifferently asked the girl, taking the documents prepared in advance from her hands, and putting my signature on the dismissal order.

- Of course you! Oksana immediately hurried to assure me, flinching at the unexpected ringing of her mobile phone. – Hello! Hi Hi! Come on?!

Wearily waving my hand to the girl, I hurried out of the office. Knowing about her craving for conversations, waiting for her to finish is just stupid. I'm just wasting my time.

At this thought, I stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, thus forming an obstacle for other walking employees of the business center. Muttering an apology to the people swearing at me, I nevertheless left the building, and wearily sat down on a bench not far from the entrance.

I have nowhere to go this is the time. Therefore, I really have nothing to lose. Taking a deep breath, I slowly got up and trudged to the bus stop. There is nothing more for me to do here, I need to go home. And there you can also look for some new work on the Internet. Tenth this year, we can say that the anniversary!

The crazy idea to visit the cemetery first and visit the graves of my parents, I threw aside. What new things can I say to gravestones? “Mom, dad, hi! It's me again - the daughter who doesn't remember you! I still don’t remember anything from the moment of the accident, but there is also something new - I, for the umpteenth time, got fired! ”?

The fact is that a little over a year ago I got into a car accident with my parents, as a result of which they died, and I woke up in intensive care with a complete loss of memory. Rehabilitation, being in several sanatoriums and going to all kinds of doctors and specialists did not give any result. The search for any relatives was also unsuccessful - it turned out that my parents and I had recently moved to this city from nowhere, and here we restored documents, instead of previously lost ones, it is not clear where. So my whole former life was erased from my memory, leaving me only the date of birth and the name - Erokhina Maria Viktorovna. Well, the scars on his hands. In the accident, I did not suffer much, except for complete amnesia. She got off with a blow to the head, with a concussion, and severely cut both wrists. Personally, the scars looked like dog bite marks to me,

The weather outside was unusually hot for the beginning of June, and when I entered the coolness of my three-room apartment, I could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. Remembering the dismissal, and the need to look for a new part-time job - the next breath came out a little doomed.

In fact, the work was not so necessary for me. I inherited an apartment from my parents. Yes, and with money there were no special problems. As lawyers and a notary explained to me, my father successfully invested money at interest in various banks and financial organizations, periodically playing on the stock exchange, and as a result, after his death, an amount came to my card every month, which was enough to pay bills and to live . But I was not looking for a permanent job for this reason. I was lonely. Really very lonely. Only getting a job, I found friends with whom I tried to establish communication, and who immediately disappeared from my life, as soon as I quit. Or, to be more precise, when I was fired.                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Walking wearily to the large wall mirror in the hallway, she stood opposite it, leaning her back against the opposite wall. From the reflection, a thin and exhausted green-eyed girl was looking at me, with long blond blond hair, reaching almost to the waist, and with unbearable longing in her eyes.

How hard it is not to remember anything! Who am I?! I ask myself this question every time I wake up, and I fall asleep with it. That I love? What am I? What was I? What about friends? I did have them. Should have been! Maybe there was some young man. Although the last one definitely was, because as they told me in the hospital - I'm not a virgin. Too bad I don't remember anything!

One girl with amnesia, with whom I was in rehab, told me that she began to remember what she had forgotten in her dreams. I was terribly jealous of her then, because I don’t dream of anything! Well, not exactly, of course, some dreams still visit me, but I very much doubt that this is my past. There are rustic solid houses, big gray dogs and ...

Memory obligingly betrayed in the subconscious the look of piercing blue eyes. I can’t remember the face in any way, and it doesn’t appear in my dreams, but I know for sure that this person is very important to me. But did he really exist, or is it just an ordinary dream and games of the subconscious - I don’t know. But that look has haunted me ever since I woke up in the hospital. I would really like to believe that this is not just a meaningless dream, but a real memory from my past, but this is nonsense. If this man existed, he would have found me. And since he still doesn’t exist in my life, it means either he doesn’t exist at all, or my blue-eyed one still lives somewhere, but he didn’t give a damn about me. And if the second is true, then why does this thought hurt me so much? I don't remember anything anyway! Why am I taking myself out?!

Having made myself some tea and made a few sandwiches, I decided to eat the incomprehensible melancholy that appears every time those damned sapphire eyes pop up in my memory. A trembling hand almost dropped the mug that was raised to her lips.

- Sapphire ... - I repeated the scratched memory word in a whisper. - Sapphire...

One simple word, accidentally popped up to compare the color of the eyes, was spinning in my head, causing an attack of pain in my temples, but did not want to form at least some semblance of a memory. And at the same time, somewhere on the verge of consciousness, I felt a plaintive groan. Someone asked to remember, begged to remember at least something! But this request was felt not in words, but rather on an emotional plane.

“Little time, very little time! I will die, you understand? I'm almost gone! Let's! Please come on!"

Throwing the mug aside, I slid off the stool to the floor, pressing my hands to my head to at least muffle the pain shooting in my temples. It turned out badly, in addition, it began to darken in my eyes, and I almost vomited from overexertion.

"Please, please, please..."