2023 Author: Adelina Croftoon | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-05-24 12:05
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It happened back in 1990, somewhere in winter. I was 31 years old. At that time, I worked as a teacher in the Children's Home (there were children up to 3-4 years old there). We worked in shifts, day-night, two days at home. The shift usually went out with the same people. There were only 4 groups in the Baby House, two on the first floor and two on the second.
My group was on the second floor. That night there were four of us, as always, three educators and one nurse. They started their shift at 20 o'clock. We checked all the doors and bolted the main front door. There were no nannies on the night shift, so they did all the dirty work themselves.
In my group, the children were small. As usual, having given the children the evening kefir to drink, I proceeded to wash and put the children to sleep. After putting the children to bed, I went to the bathroom to rinse the diapers. While in the bathroom, because of the noise of the water, I heard steps and a voice, as it seemed to me, of a teacher from the group opposite.
I went out, looked around - no one was there. But I can clearly hear the receding steps. I follow the steps into the group opposite, I go in, I see the teacher at the table, who was writing plans, bending over the table. At this moment, I understand that she could not call me, much less walk in front of me. I slowly sat down on the highchair …
I don’t know what was written on my face, but Valentina (she was 20 years older than me) asked: “What happened?”. I answered her question with a question: "Have you come to me just now?" The answer followed: "No" … And at that moment, past the door, into which I entered, followed by heavy male steps. We both turned our heads towards the door and, not seeing anyone, Valentina shouted: "Who is there?" Unexpectedly for us the answer followed: "Who, who …"
We jumped out after the steps onto the landing - no one! Just stomping steps down the stairs!
The four of us gathered on the staircase of the second floor, next to the phone and discussing what to do and how to proceed, suddenly heard the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, which was on the first floor, and again, heavy sighs "Who, who …".
On the verge of a nervous breakdown, they dialed 02. The police arrived quickly, checked the entire building inside and walked around the outside along the perimeter. NO ONE! Only, in the kitchen, the lid was on the floor, and the pans were overturned.
Soon, or rather in October 1990, they announced to us the closure of the Children's Home for reorganization, and we were all left without work. Apparently, the Brownie warned us about this!
Where have we been?
It happened in 2009 in October around the 20th. My friend Sergei and I were visiting Ussuriisk, Primorsky Territory, with friends living at Pushkin 6. We took alcohol there. In the evening we decided from Pushkinskaya to go to my house with Sergei and have another drink there.
It was a day off. After leaving our friends, we went to my house and on the way to the kiosk bought a cup and sausage in a dough for an appetizer, so that it was not boring to go. Shkalik was opened in the district of five-story buildings at Pushkin 31 from the side of the kindergarten. The time was about 23-00.
After drinking, we went to Leningradskaya street through garages in the direction of houses 28 and 26 on Leningradskaya street. These are two adjacent two-storey barrack-type buildings. So we went through the sheds and garages and found ourselves in an incomprehensible place.
Two two-story buildings stood. But! In the courtyard there were flowers, benches, and there were no shabby walls on the houses. As if the houses were just built. We sat down and in the twilight of the evening, where the five-story building of Pushkin 31 should be, only branches of trees swayed in the darkness. And further in the microdistrict, at least the window would shine. It doesn't work that way.
We finished the scale and went to the entrance. And the entrance was painted. And on the walls were twisted-wire toggle switches. But I went there before and I remember these houses. And I even remember the iron door with a combination lock. But she wasn't there either. It was the usual upholstered with dermantine.
In short, Sergei and I began to vaguely guess that the matter was unclean and slowly we went to the sheds and wandered there for a long time until he saw the light. We went there and it was a reflection of light from the window of the first floor of house 31 and a half-broken garage through which we wanted to take a shortcut.
We went to house 31 and immediately heard cars driving along the road along Leningradskaya Street. And being in the area of these strange two-story buildings, we did not hear the road, although they stand along it.
The next day, I deliberately left work and turned to these two-story buildings. There were no shops. Flowers too. There were plastic windows and an iron door. And in the entrance everything was shabby and there were no lever switches or traces of wiring.
I went to house 31 past the broken garage and there were no long sheds past which Sergei and I went yesterday to Pushkin's house 31.
Most likely he and I failed that day in about the 60s or earlier. But no matter how we know neither I nor he. And last year Seryoga was gone. But that's another story.
A strange dream
I was about thirty years old. I have a dream or reality, I do not understand. It’s as if I’m leaving the house, and it’s warm, light, summer outside. Somewhere I went, suddenly I see a huge ball in front of me like a globe, standing on its legs. I stopped and looked, it suddenly opens, as it were, part of the ball is detached downward and steps appear, a man in a silver spacesuit comes out and he kind of mentally says to me: "Do you want to fly?"
I thought and said to him just as mentally: "Will you bring me back?" He says yes, we will. I climbed the steps into the ship, the door slammed shut, it was dark in the ship, only some green numbers were glowing around.
The second person tells me to hold on to the handrails. And the handrails, as it were, made of stainless steel around the entire perimeter of this ball ship. I grabbed the handrail and … flew. It takes some time, probably a stop, as the door opened and I was asked to go out and look around how and what.
I got out, walk and see a road ahead, covered with black stone, a dark yellow wall on the left, and some kind of yellow sand on the right. I look far ahead, but towards me, a tall woman and in black, as I understand now, in a hijab. I tell her "come here", but she was frightened, and suddenly turned back, only I remember her eyes, black, beautiful, but not very friendly.
Then I returned to the corral, where they offered me a piece of bread to eat. Taking the bread, I see that we don't have this yet, I firmly squeezed this piece in my palm and woke up with a tightly clenched palm. I opened my hand, hoping to see the piece, but nothing happened.
Thirty-three years later, at 63, I flew east to visit the Mediterranean Sea. And then one day I went out into the street, went for a walk, I go, I watch the same story when I flew in a ship 33 years ago, the same road, you have a wall, the same view and I see two women in hijabs walking, although in a month rest, I have never met a woman in a hijab!
The women caught up with me, I realized by the eyes that one is older, the other is younger, and they looked at me with the same look as that woman! Such was the case with me.