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Why have you come?
Go away.
The living don't belong here.
Don't you understand,
how painful it is...
when your body is not
under your control any more,
and only your powerless
and sad mind remains...
Don't take this sin upon your soul.
A fly!
I can feel it...
each one of us...
has an invisible circle around them
and we can not venture beyond it
for even a single moment...
Forgetting this limit,
trying to break it
with your mind...
you don't know what guardians
you have awakened,
what forces...
directed against yourselves.
Crossing the circle...
you lose everything
that exists within its borders,
and there is no way back.
I am ruining you forever.
Why?
Because now your place is...
with me.
- Sasha, open the door.
- Who is it?
- Open the door!
- If it's not you
I will release the dog.
- Open up!
Dmitrij Alexejevich...
What happened, doctor?
What's wrong?
- It's the heat...
- The heat... It'll get worse.
The forecast is lowsy.
- Why are you always so white?
- White?
- There's so much sun,
but you're always white...
- My blood is white.
- Where did you get the dog?
- The dog?
- My friends have asked me...
to look after it while they're gone.
- You know Sasha, I'm afraid.
- Are you afraid all the time?
- No. Just now.
I'm afraid...
- It must be a heat stroke.
- What do we do now?
- Nothing.
Your opus will get recognized,
they'll pet you on the head
and give you a medal.
- You can be cruel, you know that?
- Who, me?
Would you like some fresh coffee?
- You know...
Andrej Pavlovich has shot himself..
- And?..
- I just had a conversation with him.
- A chit-chat?
- No...
It's a shame we never really
talked when he was alive.
- I never knew him and have no regrets.
- Why?
- What do you mean, why?
- Still, you are so white...
- I'm white all right.
And you?
No matter what you do,
you'll always be branded...
as an outsider.
- Branded?...
Snegovoj was branded as well...
- The sea is excellent here.
Warm.
Almost like the Black Sea.
- I've never been to the Black Sea.
- It's been a long time
since I've been there myself.
Very long time...
Few people are where they must be.
- Must be?
- Yes Dima.
Because many won't have the opportunity.
- Why?
- Because my gardfather died
before he could return to his birthplace.
- Where?
- Not far from Yalta.
And also because my parents wanted so.
- What about your parents?
- My father died...
in a car crash.
And mother...
She attempted to settle near Simpheropol.
Tried for five years.
She was a good engineer.
People said - very good.
They would not give her
a residence permit nor employment.
Threatened to prosecute for sponging.
She was selling vegetables.
Once, a company of five
were selebrating a New Year.
A police car came
in the middle of the night.
They took everybody thirty kilometers
into the steppe.
Wished them good night,
and left.
In the winter, it can get cold
even in Crimea.
- Why did it happen?
- She was sick for a long time.
Almost half a year.
Just because she was...
a Crimean Tartar.
That's why, Dima...
Almost half of the nation
died during the relocation.
My adopted parents are here...
Almost for the same reason.
They are Volga Germans.
The same thing happend to them.
They left this house to me.
Books, furniture...
I don't want any of it...
- What do you want, then?
- I don't know Dima.
I was hoping my kids
would not have to think about
what nationality they are...
as about many other things.
And not just my kids.
- OK, I should be going...
- Let me see you off.
- I'll be fine.
It's a shame I forgot my bike
at the morgue...
My knees are so tired.
- Are you going to be OK
walking back alone?
- Listen... you are a really great guy.
We all need to come to our senses.
- Ciao, bambino...
- May I stay with you?
- Why are you not with your parents?
Where are they?
- I'm hungry.
- I'm also hungry...
Who's going to feed us...
All right.
Let

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