2023 Author: Adelina Croftoon | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-07-30 23:26
I'll tell you about an incident that happened to me and my adult son a few years ago. A week before Easter we decided to put things in order at my grandmother's grave - Radonitsa was approaching.
Saturday was warm and sunny. We took paint in cans, inventory. My husband brought us to the cemetery at nine o'clock in the morning, left the car for us, said that he would be waiting for us for dinner, and went to the bus stop. There was a sea to the people in the cemetery, people were swarming around almost every grave. Our work was arguing. My son and I were almost done, and then it turned out that we were missing one can of paint.
- Nothing, mom. Now let's go to the market and buy paint,”my son reassured me.
The market is located near the cemetery. We bought paint, but we only had to go back to a detour - there was an accident on the road leading from the city to the cemetery.
To understand what happened next, you need to talk about the layout of the cemetery. It is taken out of the city and is a huge rectangle stretching to the very horizon. The sectors are arranged simply - in rows:
25 26 27 28
21 22 23 24
17 18 19 20
13 14 15 16
9 10 11 12
5 6 7 8
1 2 3 4
Our sector is 27th. On the right, along the entire cemetery, there is a railway, the crossing through which is located opposite the 28th sector. The paths and roads between the sectors are straight, parallel and perpendicular, landmarks are clear everywhere, and the sectors are indicated by number plates.
We drove along the road, going round the cemetery from the other end. And suddenly, at some point, something happened - there was a strange, barely perceptible feeling that we drove through some kind of invisible wall. It even seemed to me that for a moment a portal appeared in front of my eyes, stretching from the ground beyond the clouds. Something around has changed dramatically. The world seemed to remain the same, only it became, as it were, monochromatic, lost its bright colors and smells. It was the same clear day, but a different one.
I turned to my son and saw that he was peering intently ahead.
- Mom, what's going on ?! he asked in surprise. - Look, there is no one in the cemetery!
But only some twenty minutes ago there was a darkness to the people! The son got nervous. I understood that he felt everything the same as I did, and tried to calm him down:
- Nothing, son, now we will quickly paint and go home.
Along the straight path, along which we have been walking to the grave of our relatives for twenty-five years, we drove up to our 27th sector … and were dumbfounded. There was no grave! On the site of our sector, there was a completely different burial.
Poorly understanding what was happening, we got out of the car and walked along the path to the adjacent 28th sector. However, at its corner we found a sign with the number “3” dug into the spot, and the 48th sector started across the path. We went back and went to where the 26th should be located. He was on the spot, but just behind him in the neighborhood was immediately located the 11th! At the same time, all our wandering through the cemetery took place in a dead ominous silence. We are standing together with my son, and around from horizon to horizon there is a cemetery and not a single living soul. The son even giggled nervously, then got into the car and called me:
- Sit down, we'll find it now.
For more than an hour we drove through the cemetery, not finding a single familiar landmark, not leaving the cemetery. And then it dawned on the son:
- Mom! Let's go to our sector from the side of the railway crossing.
We drove along the railway more than once, but there was no crossing at all. We stopped, having difficulty figuring out what to do next.
Suddenly I saw two women sitting on the fence of the grave nearby. One was young, the other was in her fifties. I ran to them, hoping to find out how to leave the cemetery. It would be better not to ask. When they saw me, they stared at us with a kind of dull look, filled with such hatred that my blood froze in my veins. There was a feeling that these were inanimate people. They looked very strange: outwardly they were like ordinary women, but something terrible emanated from them, as much as frost was running over their skin. My heart skipped a beat: "We must leave!" I ran to the car, jumped into it, and we drove away from this place.
And then I began to pray. Like that time, I have never prayed in my life. We drove slowly through the cemetery at random. About five minutes later the old Volga, which had come from nowhere, crossed the road to us. The elderly driver, leaning out of the window, asked his son to pass a little back and to the left, as he wanted to turn onto our narrow path. The son silently backed up, and then the rear wheel of our car hit something. The son went out to see if he had touched something with the rear bumper.
- Mother! Come here soon! he shouted.
It turned out that the wheel rested against the plate with the number … 27! Our sector! We seemed to wake up. There were people around the graves again. True, they turned out to be much smaller, since the sun was already setting below the horizon, evening was rapidly approaching. We silently quickly painted the fence and hurried home, where the husband who was waiting for us was going crazy with anxiety.
- Where have you been?! he cried. - I've been looking for you in the cemetery for half a day! What's going on ?!
I am also very interested to know: what is it that happened to us and where did we go?
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