Original subtitles

I who never believed in death,

but I believe with all my sixteen years of breath,

that every one, even better than God,

does make people happy, makes them good,

just as it makes him strong and young.

My faith is in my girl-like world.

Petya Dubarova

PETYA OF MY PETYA

3 MONTHS EARLIER

Are you sure? I'm cutting this.

Thank you.

My hair is my link to the cosmic,

to the universe, to eternity.

It is my magical symbol of identity.

And I choose to give it to a child with cancer.

Because I'm not afraid to identify with it.

Because we are one.

If someone somewhere is terminally ill,

so am I.

If I didn't know this was Petya's blog,

I could have sworn the author was at least 30.

She nails it.

Listen to this:

Hair is considered the home of the soul.

I share my home with you.

This way I will not be homeless either.

Well... Who's the little amateur now?

I beat you three times in a row. You were at 1:50 when you got out.

This doesn't count. It's not fair.

A dolphin in its prime against an aging Burgas whale.

-No way. -You're mistaken.

- My father is no whale. - Oh yeah?

Good afternoon, colleagues.

My name is Ivan Krachunov and I've been a teacher for 20 years.

Good leaders such as Mrs. Pavlova, may she rest in peace, are so rare.

I promise to follow in her footsteps and give my best

to keep our school in its rightful place as one of the best schools,

or arguably the best in the region.

And to give substance to my words... These tablets are yours.

-Thank you, Mr. Krachunov. -You're welcome.

But this is not a gift, but a means

for an easier access to electronic diaries.

The school now has high-speed internet, which you can use

during the course of your work.

And you are...?

-Zlatkov. -Well...?

Well... I'm not sure about this internet thing.

Students don't pay attention in my classes anyway,

and now, with this connection...

Their paying attention in your classes is your responsibility,

as well as the overall level of discipline, Mr. Zlatkov.

This applies to all of our colleagues.

Good morning. What's with the pancakes on a Tuesday morning?

Why aren't you at work?

Why that look, what's going on? Did someone die?

Am I adopted? Are we expecting another child?

Petya... Please sit down and listen.

Your father and I... We...

Which one of you has a lover?

This has nothing to do with a third person.

If I am the third, then you're right.

But I'm sure there is a fourth.

If two people want to get separated, they have a good reason.

Usually, one of flesh and blood.

Petya...

As of yesterday, your father and I are officially divorced.

Where am I? Am I dreaming?

I fall into a Burgas made of bronze.

A sun with the magic of a fountain of gold,

storms out from the gentlest quavering sky.

Where am I?

On our beach.

What are you doing here?

You tell me.

Are you really...

...Petya Dubarova?

Am I really Petya Dubarova?

This is not real.

You can't be real.

None of this is really happening, is it?

Is that why you called me?

To tell me I am not real?

And what was that nonsense, jumping in the icy waters, today?

Today?

Today is the 4th of December.

The shitty day you died on.

You think I don't know that?

Can't you choose your own shitty day to die on?

Dear...

Statistics say every other marriage in Bulgaria ends up in divorce.

This is as old as the world.

I'm not feeling bad about the divorce.

I'm feeling bad because yesterday I thought I had the perfect family.

Maybe they never loved each other.

Maybe they got married because she got pregnant.

Maybe nothing I knew about them was true.

The important thing is they still love you.

Your father won't just disappear.

Man, I'm a total ass.

I'm sorry.

I didn't want to make you sad.

It's cool. I don't feel bad anymore about not knowing my father.

Tell me someone died and that's why you ruined my date with Dido.

My parents' marriage died.

They got divorced yesterday without telling me.

Divorce is the better option.

It's miles better than having them pass each other without speaking...

Like mine do.

I want my parents to get divorced!

Divorced parents feel bad about that

and compensate with money!

Jula, you make this sound like a reason to celebrate.

Why not? Some holidays are meant to be sad.

What's up? Who died?

Good afternoon. Welcome back to school.

As a tradition, our former headmaster

dedicated each school year to a letter in the Bulgarian alphabet.

Today I will take the liberty of choosing one on her behalf.

Here are my wishes to you,

inspired by the letter "E".

Do not be afraid to be Emotional.

Don't be afraid to show your fear,

your anger, your love.

Experiment.

School might be the only place where this would be possible.

And lastly, I want to wish to all of us

never to resort to internal spiritual Emigration.

And now let us welcome our new headmaster,

Mr. Ivan Krachunov.

Thank you, Mrs. Bocheva.

Dear students, teachers, parents and guests.

Happy first day at school!

I had prepared an inspiring speech,

but Mrs. Bocheva provoked me, in the best sense of the word.

That's why I decided to restart the tradition.

For a smooth transition to my new position, please allow me

to "ambitiously" explore some "aspects" of the letter "A".

The letter "A" is a beginning.

He might turn out to be a pleasant surprise.

Or an erudite manipulator.

"Authority" and "Authoritarian" are often wrongly interchanged.

Please note the distinction.

Don't fear an Authoritarian,

but value a person of Authority. Your teachers...

are your references of Authority, without right of appeal.

-This came across pretty authoritarian. -I told you so.

What a guy.

I want him for a father.

Also, leave at the door of the school your Accounts,

Avatars, Actual smart devices.

Chase away the Apathy,

be nobody's Accessory,

choose wisely you Entourage,

be the Authors of your own life, and you will receive our Applause.

Sorry about the interruption, but this is an emergency.

Folks, Moni from hour class was hit by a car and he needs blood.

Please donate blood. Now! Excuse me!

I thank the student for the quick reaction.

Please donate blood.

We will all go together, right after this ceremony.

I wish Moni a quick recovery.

When I rent a place...

I saw a couple already...

When I move out of the hotel and settle down somewhere...

I'll cook for you... We'll cook at home.

Did mom screw up? I want to know the truth.

She's got a lover, right?

-My dear... -She is always at work, always late,

her head is somewhere else... Have you seen him?

I haven't, because your mother hasn't got a lover.

Try to understand that sometimes...

people simply stop loving each other.

-And things are not the same anymore. -This is bullshit!

You can't simply stop loving someone.

What would you like to eat?

I am not hungry.

-Hey, Moni! -Mr. Simeon Vassev...

Smooth. What does anaesthesia feel like?

It's as if you've had one too many.

I don't remember much... Just Jula's tits,

screaming at me, "Wake up, Moni!"

"Wake up!"

Jula's tits brought you back from the other side. Wow.

If these two can bring you back skating,

I'll show them to you right now.

There is a 15% chance I'll walk again. Even less.

I'll be the Bulgarian Stephen Hawking,

without the genius bit.

King Rat

Shogun

Excellent choice, Andrey.

I am glad you've delved into James Clavell.

Both books are remarkable.

I'm reading "Gai-Jin". I see samurai everywhere.

I wonder what Moni would write here.

We'll know when he comes back.

The Portrait of Dorian Grey

Jula, you've read one book in three months

and you didn't get it if you didn't think it was genius.

A book over 300 pages can't be genius.

Come on, Petya. You have the marker.

Catch 22

Sorry I'm late, Mrs. Bocheva. I had to finish my book.

Don Quixote

-He can read! -He can write too!

He didn't sleep all summer!

Bravo, Toma!

This is more than all the books you've read since 8th grade!

It's because of this girl from the Spanish school I'm going out with.

She gives it to me only if I read the books she tells me to.

-I have to repeat them to her. -Try Google!

I did, but she caught me,

and left me in dry dock for a week.

-Be careful with your wording, Toma. -I didn't say "fucking".

I am glad you didn't.

This is some wall!

-Good afternoon, 11 G! -Good afternoon!

With all this laughter, you must be reading "Bay Ganyo".

Although, If I am not mistaken,

one of the key subjects in our literary criticism

is exploring the genre specifics of the book.

Am I right?

You are free to go!

An intriguing approach, Bocheva. Very intriguing.

Can you be sure they are not simply writing down random titles?

It is important to avoid mistakes when it comes to our common goals.

You can't get European funding with painted walls.

Good day.

I dream of living in a home

big enough for the whole of the sea.

With all the shells, fish and seaweed...

I just wanted...

...to swim for a bit.

What? I had a lot of bullshit to deal with lately.

I hear you.

-But is it worth dying over bullshit? -It is not all bullshit!

I didn't....

Why are you roasting me as if you were alive?

You killed yourself.

True... I did.

Because...

Because...

Because of "a secret". I know.

Why do adults think

all 17-year-olds kill themselves over some bullshit?

If we could live long enough to become grown ups we'd know.

Once you die you don't get any smarter.

I'm telling you this as one dead with a 40 year experience.

40 years wandering in the desert.

Isn't it time you arrived already?

It depends on you.

I ache with this euphoria. I know disaster is about to fall.

It takes two lines to make a rhyme.

Two lines at least.

And I can almost see you through them.

Dear...

This poem is the emanation of postmodernism.

It's brilliant!

You've spent another night with a Thesaurus.

This is the best thing you've written...

-Since 8th grade. -I haven't written since 8th grade!

You read 2 lines by Petya Dubarova

and got depressed thinking she's more talented.

-She is! - Says who?

There's always someone better.

You're wrong, dear.

Smart people know their insignificance,

and don't embarrass themselves trying to copy their idols.

Yeah, dear. But you're a lot of things, and smart's not one of them.

God, it is so strange without Moni.

Moni's coming back...

What if he isn't...

-Good afternoon, Mrs. Bocheva. -Good afternoon.

Listen to me.

Regardless of how you feel about what you're about to see,

please refrain from extreme emotions. Please.

You told us to be emotional on the first day of school.

Fuck!

Petya!

Petya Monova. Please sit.

I know you haven't been here long and you don't know that,

but this wall meant a lot to us.

I am aware of that.

Then you know we took this up in 8th grade!

You saw how everybody liked this. Even Toma the Sock started to read!

I am glad about... the Sock,

yet I still fail to grasp the reason for your visit.

It's clear you can't undo what's done,

but would you reconsider your position?

No.

I hope this does not sound like I'm holding you to account,

but can you at least explain your reasons?

The wall expressed our individuality,

and you had to consult us before eradicating it.

Your brazen tone tells me you are agitated,

so I will not take issue with your attitude.

You like "A" words, so yes, I am "agitated", but...

Petya, have to note that according to school rules

you should be in class right now.

-You don't understand! We... -Petya!

Have a good class.

What happened?

What was the saying... "Some people are born mediocre,"

"some achieve mediocrity, others have it imposed from the outside."

"Krachunov is mediocre on all three counts."

If you are quoting this, you clearly get "Catch 22".

Let's just say that the headmaster made sure I saw in detail

the absurdity of bureaucratic restrictions.

When you go to war you should know exactly what you are fighting for.

I am not sure what you are telling me exactly.

I am simply saying that you've got a lot of courage,

but in this case patience and flexibility will serve you better.

You are not telling me to live with this, right?

I'm just asking you not to start battles you cannot win.

Can Krachunov forbid you to read?

You have no right to be so deceitful.

You taught us to have an opinion and stand by it.

-I am not saying otherwise at all. -You're telling me to close my eyes.

I can't believe this.

Can I go now?

Today the Matrix in the form of the school system

proves again that its goal is to turn students into canned food.

No labels. Just a sterile, sour taste.

We had a memory, we had a tradition,

and a splash of white paint and a spiked brush erased it all.

The literary memory of a class of 17-year-olds simply disappeared

on a whim of a clerk.

Yesterday I believed I lived in a democracy,

that individuality matters, that teachers value it.

But it turns out that our brand new white wall,

and the joy of reading erased is another feat of hypocrisy

used by people in power to climb the career ladder,

or enhance their reputation within our double-faced society.

I like the color white, white souls,

white snowflakes, white rims of waves, white clouds, snowdrops,

white sparrows. But I despise white fear,

white stupidity, white betrayal, white fog,

white nothingness! What will be next Mr. Krachunov?

Will you dress us in blue coats with white collars?

In spite of what you did, our classroom will be different

from all classrooms in the whole world, because we are in it.

There are no two identical objects in the universe.

Nature strives for diversity and you can never change that,

even with all the white paint in the world!

The article has over 11,000 views.

You can go now, Zlatkov.

I think you should do something.

-You can go now, Zlatkov! -Yes, Sir.

I don't approve.

I think this time you've gone too far.

When did you stop being on my side?

Petya, this is just a wall.

-In two years you'll forget all this. -And until then?

Until then... suck it up and concentrate on your studies.

I don't care that he painted the wall.

I'm mad because he did it behind our backs!

He could've come with a bucket of paint,

and made us do it ourselves if it annoyed him so much!

It is a matter of principle!

Petya... Principles change.

It's because of people like you that the country is in such a sorry state.

Petya!

Why the long face? I don't get it.

You made a mockery of the headmaster.

I couldn't dream of such a thing.

Are you crazy? This was my biggest mistake.

I thought I could do anything.

You're so naive, Petya!

True. That's why I'm here with you,

and I have no intention of going back.

It is better this way.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

And like a nimble headache

my warm blue evening passes.

Innocent, like a child's prank,

I come back from my afar.

You are scared of being famous, admit it.

You can be a literary influence.

Moni!

I could have taken a hit by a truck for a kiss like that. Wow.

Are you an idiot?

Mr. Vassev, sorry I hit your son.

He deserved it.

Tell me you're back, Moni!

Well... It looks like home schooling for me.

Don't do this to us! Mr. Vassev, please. We'll take care of him!

We'll see, Petya. I have to talk to your headmaster now.

Wait here.

We're not a couple. I was just happy to see you.

Mr. Krachunov!

Hello, kids.

Mr. Krachunov,

can facilities for disabled students be installed in the school?

We have a ramp at the entrance

and the introduction of elevators for disabled students

is part of the school's development plan,

but such an undertaking takes time and, of course, money.

I can raise the money. Mr. Vassev, I promise.

We'll raise the money. This is Moni's father.

I know, Petya. Krachunov, it's a pleasure.

Vassev.

Mr. Krachunov, do I have your consent and your promise to cooperate?

You have my word that you'll have the school administration's full support

as long as the money is in place. Mr. Vassev, please.

Great, because it will be so lame if Moni can't...

...can't stay with us.

This item won't be available forever.

I am going to sound now like a frigging guru,

or a life coach, or a regular idiot,

but one thing is clear,

one day you have the world at your feet,

the next you are a disabled bum.

You're going to be fine.

Do you believe that?

Tell Petya you like her.

Soon you'll be in the friend zone.

You'll call her "dear", and somebody else will be kissing her.

When did you say you're getting back to school?

We have to raise the money for the elevator.

Moni is not OK, he's losing it.

I set up a Facebook group. We'll raise the money.

-Will Krachunov chip in too? -That stupid queer? Forget about it!

-You're overdoing it, Jula. -Alright, he's not gay,

he's a common fag.

My mother will donate, but she asked for an account.

I'll take care of this.

We have to find a way of putting Moni in Petya's event.

What event? Who's Petya?

I'm just teasing you, dear. I'm the first name on the list.

Hello, Monov, what's up?

I am here at your improvised "home".

I wanted to see you.

Greece?

You didn't tell me you were going.

I know it's my mother's week, but I thought that...

Whatever.

This arrangement is quite convenient.

A parent one week, a free man the other...

Petya. The account is ready.

-Good luck with the campaign. -Thank you so much.

-You're welcome any time. -Here it is.

The list of participants in Petya Dubarova's tribute.

-This is wonderful. -A lot of people signed up.

I'll have to speak to Mr. Krachunov first.

He doesn't know about the tradition, and might not agree to reduced class time.

He'll definitely not agree. He hates me.

Don't flatter yourself, he doesn't.

I'll talk to him.

I'll explain how important it is for you to celebrate Dubarova's memory.

You'll be wasting your time.

Petya, are you alright?

Moni can't walk, my parents got divorced...

I'm super.

We'll have to decide what to do. We can't just stand and recite like logs.

I could do it naked - as Naked Truth personified.

Jula, if we decided to sell tomatoes, you'd still want to do it naked.

This poetess Zinaida Gipius recited her poems naked in protest.

Nobody saw anything sexual in that.

Yeah, right. There is no way you'd come naked on stage

and no one would see anything sexual.

Try to look into my soul, Moni.

-I can't, your tits are in the way. -Stop this already!

Oh, Petya is using Messenger. Welcome to the new millennium.

Who's texting?

James... We're chatting from time to time.

Who's this James?

Well... he's this Irish guy.

He studies Eastern European literature. He even speaks some Bulgarian.

Does he live here?

No, but he wants to write a thesis on Petya Dubarova's work.

When he saw my profile, "Petya from Burgas",

-he thought it was some coincidence. -This is very romantic. Good!

Who's studying Eastern European literature anyway?

Some pervert who just wants to sleep with her.

-That would be perfect! -Jula!

When are you going to rehearse? I want to watch.

We booked the auditorium on Wednesday.

It's strange when you are with us, and yet you are not with us.

-Why don't you come to class? -It's with Zlatkov.

He'll be happy to see you.

There's no point.

-I could just carry you. -Don't be a fool.

-I'll bring The Sock. He'll help us. -No, I've had enough.

Mr. Krachunov!

When will the elevator for Moni be installed?

-Good afternoon, kids. -Good afternoon.

During the summer break, if we get the approval.

And the elevator won't be for Moni,

but for the benefit of all in need.

We've started raising money. Can't we speed things up?

-No, we can't. How are you, Moni? -In need, clearly.

Mr. Krachunov!

I can find specialists that can install the elevator!

In order to install an elevator this wall has to be torn down,

-which cannot happen right now. -Why not?

-What about the winter break? -There won't be enough time.

-What should Moni do till next year? -Home schooling.

Have you no shame?

Petya! You are going too far!

There has to be a way! You have to help me!

Petya, are you a civil engineer?

You really wanted to be me, it seems.

The fact that I admire your poetry doesn't mean that I copy you.

Yeah, right...

Taking up causes, chatting up a foreigner. You name is Petya...

Did I choose my own name?

If you ask me, that "cause" of yours, that boy,

it was doomed from the start.

-I think this Krachunogov... -Krachunov!

Whatever. I think he's right.

The least of Moni's problems is if there is an elevator at school.

It won't give him his legs back.

Do you always have to be this arrogant?

You shouldn't be killing yourself because of an elevator.

I didn't kill myself, is that clear? Unlike you!

I look at you, and you don't seem to regret it. So don't judge me.

How do you know I don't regret it?

If you hadn't done it, you wouldn't have been...

You wouldn't have been "Petya Dubarova".

Oh, so you're one of those halfwits

who think I'm famous because I stayed 17...

No, I'm one of those who believe

that if you'd stayed alive you would've betrayed everything you believed in.

-You've thought about this a lot. -I have!

You would have turned into a small grey person

just like the ones you'd despised.

You're being presumptuous!

You'll never know why I did it.

I am running down the street like mad,

I am fighting the wind, the rain.

My heart is but a lump of grey ore

And my footsteps - a brown and muddy trail.

-Tomislav? Again? -Won't happen again, Mr. Zlatkov.

Tomislav, please.

Tomislav!

Damn!

I admire you, to be honest.

I've never been so brave.

It's strange...

All my life I've thought about what you would tell me if we met.

And I never imagined it like this.

You don't have to exaggerate.

I've done nothing brave.

You're right.

You're a coward, in fact.

You should have tried breaking a wall in my time.

And what did you do, being so brave?

Well, I was talented.

And it seems my poetry inspires people to this day.

And what did your magic axe do?

You could drop it on your head, it might jam some sense into you.

You're not a very nice person, as it turns out.

It depends on what people see me like.

Petya went too far this time.

You have a soft spot for Petya. If you weren't so close to her

you wouldn't worry so much.

I got scared and that made me mad.

Don't start over. It happened.

She puts some dents on a wall. Big deal.

Bear with me for just a little longer.

I'll retire soon.

And then we'll just talk about food and flowers.

And dogs.

And books.

You'll read and tell me about them.

And we'll buy a gramophone.

And you'll teach me to dance.

You must understand that because of the level of your daughter's offense,

I have not other choice, but to bypass all lesser administrative measures

and propose to the Teachers Council

that the punishment be a "Final warning before expulsion".

Isn't this a bit excessive?

Petya has no record of offensive behavior.

And she was in a strong emotional state when...

Thank you, Mrs. Bocheva.

The Teachers Council will discuss my proposal.

Now I'd like to hear what Petya has to say in her defense.

I should be defending myself if I were feeling guilty.

I am convinced I did the right thing.

Well, I believe this sums it all up.

Please leaves us, so that the Teachers Council can make a decision.

Mr. Monov, you must pay for the damages at the cashiers.

-Yes, of course. -Thank you.

I am tempted to ask, Mr. Krachunov. Could you pay for the damages?

I didn't understand your question.

-I'm not surprised. -We'll pay for everything. Good day.

-Petya, how could you? -Mom...

Your mother and I didn't expect you'd resort to vandalism.

Define "vandalism."

At your age girls think of love,

-and you're out to change the world. -Mom is upset.

She is. She'll get over it.

Colleagues, please, let's hear Mrs. Bocheva.

Excuse me, there is a call for Annie Bocheva.

-It is urgent. -Please excuse me.

Colleagues, I ask for your cooperation.

Please collect all videos of the incident from your students.

It is too late. It is already online.

Do you think I don't know that?

We have to find a way to use this to our advantage.

Society must see our point of view, the teachers' point of view.

-The stress we are under. -Of course.

-I am on to this. I will keep you posted. -Thank you, Zlatkov.

Petya is an exemplary student,

with excellent grades.

-She has never been punished... -Yes, we know that, Mrs. Bocheva.

Colleagues! Let's vote.

Those for punishing Petya Monova with a final warning before expulsion,

please raise your hands.

Thank you. Against?

Thank you.

Abstained? None...

The Teachers Council hereby confirms the punishment.

Bocheva, where are you going? The council has not adjourned.

My husband died.

In the chalices of my pupils

something foreign and unknown is poured

and birds of grey, as sad as I,

pierce me with the tip of their flock.

How are you Petya?

I am sorry the Council decided on this punishment.

I don't care about the punishment.

I care however about your not lifting a finger to help Moni.

I refuse to have this conversation.

My husband died...

And frankly, all these minuscule problems are meaningless to me.

Mrs Bocheva... I'm so sorry.

I didn't know!

I really didn't!

I am so sorry.

Krachunov agreed to reduced class time on December 4th,

so that you can have your event.

Wow. I didn't know he was capable of generosity.

This is as much generosity as you can get from a brainless robot.

Don't quote me on that last bit.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Bocheva.

Good afternoon.

I only feel bad about not doing anything for Moni.

Not for lack of trying.

You seem quite happy.

-No, it's just that... -What?

Well...

I think I'm in love.

With James.

All the nice things he said about the bullshit at school.

If it weren't for him, I'd probably go mad.

How can you fall in love with someone you've never met?

Seems super strange to me.

Quite the opposite. This way you fall in love with the person's essence,

not with the eyes, the nose, or the butt.

James asked me to translate "Petya for My Petya" for him.

It was his favorite short story, but after meeting me,

he says he's sure now.

I think...

We might be true soul mates. We have so much in common.

Please don't tell Jula. I'll hear the end of it.

Relax. I won't.

With this line, "I almost see you from under clippings",

you say it here, and then Jula comes from there.

Go to your spots. Ready?

Whatever you do, I'm better.

-You're eating up my time. -Alright. What do you have?

I'm tired of obeying, of listening, not speaking, of sitting in class.

I am tired of being stalked by tests that then linger in my head.

I am tired of being rude, nervous and hostile, even to my Mom.

What do you think?

I'll give you five minutes. You don't deserve more.

Was The Sock always so cool?

Give me the cue again.

I almost see you from under clippings,

-from newspapers, from calendars... -Stop, dear...

-Stop. ...of flowing braided hair...

Good afternoon, Mr. Zlatkov!

Go on. Why did you stop?

You know very well this is a closed rehearsal.

The whole idea is to surprise the audience.

Haven't we had enough surprises from you, Petya?

Well, hello, Mr. Zlatkov.

-I am worried, he didn't say anything. -He didn't say anything to us!

He's reporting to that zombie Krachunov.

How did we end up with him... Everybody hates him.

If even Bocheva thinks he's a brainless robot...

What did you just say?

My dear... I...

I'm sorry.

What's going on?

-Are you saying that James... -...doesn't exist.

I mean, he does, but... as a virtual identity.

I'm James.

Was it really you? You are mad!

-Jula, let us speak in private. -You're going to tell me anyway.

Go away!

Don't you dare give me excuses.

Don't you dare speak to me, clear? This is... You are...

Forget it... I don't want to ever see you again!

This is my beach! Get lost!

-Dear... -Get lost!

I'm not your Dear anymore.

With fragile ankles and transparent veins

I am truly far from being grown up.

Far from deceptive feminine plainness.

Far from entering somebody's night.

Did you kill yourself because of Andy?

-Did you kill yourself because of Per? -Seriously!

Don't you get tired of wondering? I've left poems behind. Read!

-It is all there! -You didn't answer the question.

Whatever I say won't matter.

I'm not even me, I'm not real!

Why do you say that?

I am not Petya Dubarova, don't you get it?

I am a version of her, in your empty head.

I doubt it. Petya is much nicer than you in my empty head.

If I had imagined you,

we would have gotten along just fine.

But we do get along just fine. We are even alike.

We are both hugely talented, different, lonely.

Fools fighting the system.

Yet the system always wins.

That's because you haven't seen "The Matrix".

-How could you joke about this? -Or do what?

Sit down and cry?

If you're different, and going to chase the wind,

stop whining. Do something.

The one thing they can't take away from you is your dignity.

May I have your attention.

Headmaster's order 1732,

dated December 2, 2019.

In view of the 40th anniversary of Petya Dubarova's passing,

no classes will be held on December 4th.

Classes will resume on December 5th.

The order is mandatory for all teachers and students.

Why the joy? The event for Dubarova is on Wednesday!

Are you kidding? What performance? We got the day off!

It is very mean and cheap of you to pull such a stunt!

Petya Dubarova was our student.

The school can't miss the anniversary of her death.

This is exactly what I'm doing, Mrs. Bocheva.

I cancel classes so that everyone can visit Dubarova's museum,

or put a flower on her grave...

That event, or whatever it is you are doing,

will be moved to the spring, to Dubarova's birthday.

I think it's better we celebrated her birthday, not her death.

There is no greater weakness than to wage war on a child.

Mr. Krachunov, please...

Please don't press Petya.

You know what happened to the other Petya.

Petya Dubarova was...

... a true talent. A genius.

Whereas your Petya is just a spoilt girl.

Relax, dear. The others might be inside.

Betrayed Youth Forgiveness A Dream A Memory

Behind the walls of the big house A SECRET

I'm sorry, Petya.

I almost see you under clippings in the middle of my nothing

...clippings in the middle of my nothing.

Made from newspapers, calendars, from cigarettes half-smoked,

from flowing braided hair.

I almost see you, as you rise from a pile of weathercocks,

of green glowing orbs in the lower layers of my atmosphere,

of crystal balls of fortune tellers - comedians of faith.

Comedians of faith...

Of my yellow sulphur, which to this day

burns this bright.

...which to this day burns this bright.

-I almost see you... -I almost see you, from under stones

where you lay buried, in another life, as I recall.

I ache with this euphoria, I know disaster is about to fall.

It takes two lines to make a rhyme.

Two lines at least.

And I can almost see you through them.

What's going on here?

You know very well this is the 4th of December.

40 years ago, on this fucking day,

Petya Dubarova died.

We celebrate her memory.

Being here outside school hours is forbidden.

-The headmaster... -... lacks the courage,

so he sends his underling.

Girl...

You think you're special, but you're not.

There's at least one Petya Dubarova wannabe in every class.

Zlatkov, enough!

Petya...

Leave the premises immediately.

A hypocrite is always a slave. To the grave.

Leave! Immediately!

Traitor.

Betrayed

Betrayed Youth

Betrayed Youth Forgiveness

Betrayed Youth Forgiveness A Dream

Betrayed Youth Forgiveness A Dream A Memory

Behind the walls of the big house

A SECRET

So this is what it was all about?

What a pity.

Quite the opposite.

There is nothing to regret.

Bullshit.

Your death makes mine pointless.

Bocheva, let's cut out the drama, this is the middle of the school year.

You are to retire soon anyway.

Mrs. Bocheva, Petya is in a coma. Her father called from the hospital.

Pray the worst doesn't happen!

A lot of people seem to love you.

I love them too.

Won't you miss them?

Don't you miss your loved ones?

You know nothing.

This Petya is some devil.

She put on her white jeans

and disappeared somewhere.

I told her that the stitching on her left leg is gone,

but she didn't hear me....

I am Petya too.

She is me,

and I am her.

But this is for those others.

Only I know

what it means to be

Petya of my Petya.

We are the same.

My body, my eyes... They are the same.

Without the devil's spark.

I consoled myself as I watched her and admired.

And then she said to me:

I am in love! Do you hear?

I am in love!

Hey!

This Andy of yours is so cute.

I am but one,

and for the first time I am young.

I feel so much like living.

It is time.

Don't you see?

I want to live.

If you die, I die with you.

Back then...

40 years ago,

I was at that fateful Teachers Council.

You never told me you knew Petya.

It was my first year as teacher. She didn't have classes with me,

but I was captivated

by her magnetism,

with her inimitable talent.

Petya Dubarova.

She was a very strange girl.

At that Teachers Council

I didn't dare oppose the headmaster.

I voted for punishing Dubarova

along with all the other teachers.

And then what happened couldn't be mended.

If was not your fault.

It was just meant to happen.

Thank you for coming back, child!

THE BLUEST MAGIC

Happy birthday, Petya.

Thank you, Petya.

Here, you probably threw this away by mistake.

True, you are not in my league,

but this doesn't mean you should give up writing.

Where are you going?

To my beach,

where 18-year-olds are not allowed.

Petya Dubarova is a shining light in Bulgarian literature.

She was unfairly punished for an offence at school;

she didn't contest the punishment.

Instead, she took a huge helping of sleeping pills

and stayed seventeen forever.

Four decades later,

her poetry still inspires and empowers countless followers.