The Virus of Life

By Stefan Dragos Alexandru

The Virus of Life is the life story of some children from 2 May village, followed by the author until their adolescence.
Their journey is difficult; at every important moment the Virus of Life seems to lurk them and to bring their feed on the ground, one by one.
Living their lives in poverty, between myths, legends and stories of the place, the children grow up unrefined, without any promises, between events that are on the border between an alienated society and the peace of a place full of prejudices.
Innocent games in which young people discover their sexuality, animals that devour children, rapes, incest, prostitution, suicide are all governed by poverty and lack of horizon.
Their lives are connected and controlled by entities that seem to have all the answers.
The "shadows" eventually get to dominate the young people without guidance.
Stefan Dragos Alexandru was born in 1988 in 2 May village, he graduated from the Mircea cel Batran Naval Academy and sailed as a deck officer.
The Virus of Life is the author's first book.
The Virus of Life (printed edition) by Stefan Dragos Alexandru was published at Letras Publishing House in 2019.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stefan Dragos Alexandru
• Release date: Dec 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9786069668153

Stefan Dragos Alexandru

Stefan Dragos Alexandru s-a nascut in anul 1988 in localitatea 2 Mai, Judetul Constanta.A absolvit Academia Navala Mircea cel Batran si a navigat in calitate de ofiter punte pe Vrachiere, Remorchere, Containere si nave de croaziera.

Book preview

Ștefan Dragoș Alexandru

THE VIRUS OF LIFE

A Science Fiction Novel

A Story from May 2 Resort

THE VIRUS OF LIFE : A Story from May 2 Resort

Ștefan Dragoș Alexandru

ISBN: 978-606-9668-15-3

Copyright: Ștefan Dragoș Alexandru, 2019

Letras Publishing House, 2019

https://letras.ro/

[e-mail], [e-mail]

Contents

A Beginning

The author's thoughts

1988, March 10, 10:00 am

July 23, 1988

July 24, 1988

November 10, 1988

Three years later ... July 22, 1991

December 28, 1991

May 10, 1995 at 5:00 pm

June 19, 1995 57

December 27, 1995 - End of childhood

February 23, 1996

A shadow

COURSE II

Origins

Wintertime

A broken soul

A beginning…

I was surrounded by a pure darkness, soundless, lifeless...

I felt good or at least that's what I thought...

Does the past matter when you currently live? It matters. To what extent? That's what everyone decides.

An explosion of sensations awaited me in the light that surrounded me. I was cold, very cold…

He doesn’t breathe, doctor!

I cut the umbilical cord around the neck, so now he can breathe!

Then, I came to life or that is what my mother says. I lived. In fact, this happened after the doctor's intervention. Now, it doesn't matter that much anymore.

Can I say that I have come far when I am still standing? I always think about what happened after I was born, when my mother held me in her arms. I hated every moment, I hit her with my small hands, I often tried to talk, but I couldn't speak. I was only able to make strange sounds and scream.

I remember very well the feelings I had back then, locked in a new prison of meat that would not allow me to communicate.

As I was learning something new, I was forgetting another thing from my past.

Slowly, slowly I didn't know who I really was, and at the age of 3 I had only become a 3-year-old. I had only a few memories left. I had them, but they were like shards from a broken mirror long ago.

I learned how to walk, how to speak, and how to write as any other child does, and slowly I became a seed in an apple that was too rotten and eaten by worms.

So cold ... just because of you!

Why did you bring me into such a cold world?

Feeling like my skin is stinging, strong sounds crush my soul, I tremble and I can't stop.

Why? Why am I here?

A big human being sees me and hits me.

A big face looks at me,

The light blinds me

I see a roomy hand,

No, I don't want to get caught!

I would like to wake up,

To start feeling something

But I don't want to think anymore

Because I can't stop my eyesight.

Imperfect Realities, (Anonymous)

A little boy was playing happily on the top of a mountain of sand.

Uh uhmm uhm, and now I'm taking this and then this and so on.

 Hey, what's up?

 Hello, I make a castle and I play and I make another castle and another and so on.

What's your name?

 Andron, but my mom tells me Andi.

Aha! I'm Robert. You can call me Robi if you want. Can I play with you?

 Yes, come and build yourself a sand castle! There's enough space here.

 What are you building?

So, I have 3 cabins, a garden and a large hospital and I also made some castles.

I see there is no hut around here.

Yes, you can do some construction there, if you want.

Your hospital looks great.

Yes, I want to heal the world, and everybody to be all healthy and happy.

Let's live forever ... how beautiful it sounds! Yes, that's a good reason; think how much we could see, how much we would experience!

What are those? Constructions?

No, I thought that way: you made the houses, and I make the people. They will be the locals - powerful beings who use micrrrr .., micccc ... microchips and control robots.

The robots are their workers?

No, they are some kind of relatives, they work together, and they are a family.

The two boys have played like this many times before and they have learned a lot. Time has passed, reaching an important moment for these two friends. Outside it was cloudy, there was rarely some light. The wind was gentle, but the air was suffocating and drowsy, as if there was something in the air, like a distinct odor, destroyed with the passage of time.

Andi: It smells like corpse, I would say something's dead or someone is dead in here!

Robi: It's from the seaweed; it has been here for some time...

A: It's dark in here, but nice.

R: Yes, that's right; I love how the water looks like.

A: It looks gray to me, but I know it's green. Do you see the waves are coming and going away, as if they were calling you in?

R: Yes, it calms me down. It's a place where I could sleep...

The author`s thoughts

The Black Sea seems unchanged, no matter the passing of time. But it is not true. Slowly, the sea is changing, is transforming, and we are losing our eyes into the horizon.

In the past – the sea from May 2 Resort was an enigma for many people. The locals did not adventure on the sea for commerce. They used to swim for their own pleasure, catching gobies from time to time. The people from that place were called besoms and they worked the field. One could say that was their life, their religion.

The besoms cut their sexual organs, both the male ones (the testicles), and the female ones (they cut the nipples of their breast and left the woman incapable to breastfeed).

They just worked the field, they were part of it, they breathed through the field, and they were the field itself.

They practiced this ritual of cutting off sexual organs because they wanted to keep their customs and wealth intact, they wanted the next generations to work the field and not to chase women, pursuing other dreams. The sexual act itself was accepted only to continue the blood line and to have heirs.

Sometimes they did not even make love, and the parents bought a baby with lots of money from desperate or troubled family. The 14 years old girls did not throw their babies into the garbage as it happens nowadays.

They do not care for the scared piece of meat who cries and screams, while being devoured by various animals, sometimes even by the homeless people.

We hide when we say the girl is ill, that the babies are having mental problems. How can we say that? They are mentally ill for throwing away their babies or for eating them! They do not realize? It is not true! No matter how ill one is, you can see the reality, you can choose something else, but you cannot do it just because you are AN ANIMAL!

This tradition of the besoms lasted for some time. But just like any other civilization, it started to slowly disappear.

They were on the verge of extinction when the first water man arrived, a Lipovean who only dealt with fishing. Thus, he tried to avoid the conflicts related to the field, in order to have something to eat and, of course, to have an income, because he found the place where he wanted to start a family and to die. ‘We are the men of Patriarch Lipov. He did not listen to Peter the Great`s orders who forced the people to cut their hair (the men without beard, and the women only with short hair) and he did not allow them to wear a cross around their necks.

The Turkish received us; they said we could pray with our feet if we want, but to pay the tribute. We settled by the water and we stayed here."

Romca is the only one who speaks the language and reads the psalms (properly). With me, the Slavonic song will die. You know, my name means The Singing Angel. When I will not breath anymore, my wings will break…

They will not break, Deda, because you are eternal!

A: Wow! This is so warm….it is so good! But I am not in the mood for a swim today. I`ll better make a fire. I`ll go for some woods. Help me, please!

R: Yes, I have already found something for the fire. It`s a towrope.

A: A towrope?

R: Yes. A towrope is a strand of vegetable threads and fibers or artificial stuff used by fishermen and sailors; they get to the beach from time to time.

A: Perfect. Now, with this towrope and the woods I have found we can make a fire. I`ll get some straws or something to start the fire more quickly.

R: Good!

A: Alright! Use these straws!

R: Where did you get them from?

A: They were over there, near the stones from that pier at our right; an abandoned nest…

R: Great, they started burning! Watching it, I feel strange…. a hot yellow flame…

A: Yes. Me, too. Is it me or I hear some sounds?

R: I hear them, too!

A: They sound like some kind of whispers!

R: But they are so many!

A: Let`s try to close our eyes; maybe we`ll hear more!

Both of them fell down like logs and they were