At the age of 13, I was a rarely ugly child: a very thin acne worm with a large head and curved teeth. My mother embarrassed me and all the puberty period tried to keep me away from family and acquaintances, for the whole summer she sent me to the pioneer camp. The pioneer camp consisted of barracks with children, an administration building and four toilets. Toilets consisted of a brick bucket, a hole that closed this hole of wooden ceiling with holes and shit with chlorine. Dirt with chlorine smelled, so toilets were carefully built away from residential premises and placed with bushes.



Girls thought I was a boy for a long time. They were not friends with me. That fateful night, midnight diarrhea became my only companion.



The whole camp was swept: the green fruits, the unwashed hands of the cook, and all the shit that the pioneers ate with hunger, did their job. The holes in the toilet were filled with the troubled stomachs of four hundred people and the girls went to the toilet in pairs: one is stunned, the other is lit with a lamp, so that the first does not fall into the breakdown products of the predecessors. No one wanted to light a lamp on me, so that night I swept out a saltwater in proud solitude; in the dim light of the lamp only the contours were visible, and, sitting over the hole, I accepted that I had already fallen into someone's slippery shit. Suddenly, some shadow struck me, I stumbled, shook sharply with an unstable body, my legs walked through someone’s diarrhea, and I got into the spot like a well-smashed gillette. The fucking! A flying mouse has driven me through the belt into a bunch of shit, a point is blurred over my head, if someone comes to hurt now, my situation will worsen. Must go out!



Half an hour later, whispering and whispering at the mat, I reached the point with my hands: it was, fucking, difficult... all the hard supports were slippery like ice! Taking hold of the edges of the hole, I stretched and pushed my head: my head turned from the fresh air, and I held on the conquered positions only with the will to freedom. Stretched further and leaned on the elbows: you need to grasp something so as not to slip. Everything around it was slippery, you could only get stuck behind the crossed wooden balcony half a meter from me, I tried to get to it with restlessness, whispering from tension:



Well! Go here the shit! Let me reach you! ... →



Suddenly I was blinded by a flash of light, then some wrong breath, no stone, and a deaf knock... I was frightened and fell back. Half an hour later, I’m over the eye again. Yes is. We stretch? There is! I grabbed the curtain and climbed onto the concrete floor, barely breathing from happiness. After resting, I decided to go to the river to wash. At five meters from the toilet, the director was lying, a broken lamp was rolling next to him... he died, what? I went to the river, washed as I could, and then called people: maybe, and not dead yet, you can save.



In the morning we were told that the director had a stroke, he returned to the camp only at the end of the shift. He could not speak, he was sitting on the veranda all day and he liked when the children went to him. I visited him often, he loved me especially... because it was then that I invited people to him.



The following year, we learned that the director had recovered for a short time before his death. He said that night he was walking around the territory, accidentally heard a strange whisper in the toilet and opened the door. On him from the ill-smelled hole came a hellish lumpy-eyed worm, pulled a thumb to him and cried:



“Wow... go here...wow... I’ve gotten to you! ... →



It is offensive, of course.