CMH || CMH || Ruslan Tushentsov

It was 2017. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in delicate shades of pink and orange. A girl, an eleventh-grader, returned home after another tiring day at school. Heavy thoughts and fatigue washed over her, and she collapsed onto her bed, fully dressed. Her parents, as usual, were late at work, leaving her alone with the quiet of the apartment and her own worries.

Her life flowed on as usual, filled with schoolwork, exam preparation, and quiet evenings. But hidden within this routine lay a secret that consumed her thoughts: Ruslan. They had met on VKontakte, and since then, her world had been turned upside down. Ruslan was a full five years older than her. He was like a storm, unpredictable and passionate. One moment, he'd shower her with tender words and compliments, the next, he'd suddenly become harsh and cold, as if trampling on her feelings. Head over heels in love, the girl tried to ignore these outbursts, attributing them to his "difficult character" and her own "lack of understanding."

Today didn't promise anything special, but a premonition was already brewing in her soul. She opened her laptop, and the screen illuminated her face with a soft light. A conversation with Ruslan was flashing in the VKontakte window. They had begun messaging each other, and the tension between them grew with each message. The words became sharp, the accusations ever more harsh. She tried to smooth things over, justify herself, explain, but Ruslan was relentless. His messages grew increasingly aggressive, as if he were looking for a reason to quarrel.

His last message appeared on the screen like a blow. It was short, but it sent a chill through her veins.

"Go fuck yourself, my love."