“...I woke up not from the cold, not because the stupid neighbor’s mongrel barked, frightened by the night rustle, and not from a nightmare that I had, as usual, in the morning. I woke up in pain because a blade stuck into my throat, which seemed red-hot to me. “Forgive me.” Forgive me, for God's sake! - he said quietly. In the moonlight, his face was white, like a dead man’s. Cicadas were chattering outside the window. A fresh wind moved the light curtain. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and the blade pricked me painfully again. “For what?” I didn’t recognize my voice, these words sounded so hoarse. He seemed to be delighted by the question and launched into confused explanations: “You better know why... Although, what’s the difference... No, actually there is a difference.” Especially if it's true... Then it will be easier for me... In fact, I have no choice. I just have to do it. Do you understand? Oh yes, I understood. I listened to his quiet, excited voice, felt the blade of the knife pressing harder and harder on my throat, and with every word I realized more and more clearly that it seemed like he was really going to kill me.”