Well, the day has come when I will be able to tell what I was forced to keep silent about for almost twenty years. This is a strange and very scary story about a very close friend of mine.
It so happened that a terrible illness took his unfortunate soul away. And now only an elderly mother sits for hours at the gray window and looks at the world passing by her. But she knew everything, and I knew. But it turned out that we kept this secret together and now it invisibly binds our souls.
It was when we were ten years old. We, being carefree boys, wandered around the area or rode our bicycles. There was little entertainment in those days, and we ourselves went in search of adventure. The choice was wide enough. It was possible to get to the military airfield, where there were many lizards and gophers. You could climb over the overgrown Soviet unfinished buildings, or you could go to the local old cemetery.
Interestingly, the airfield and construction sites have been fully explored. But the cemetery always promised surprises. We were naturally subconsciously afraid of the dead and zombies, but old graves constantly attracted us. Every time we discovered something new in the cemetery. And accordingly we were drawn there for new impressions.
The cemetery was very old, most of the graves belonged to wealthy people of the past, in addition to this, many buried their relatives in places where there were already burials, but the term allowed them to bury new ones. We found two crypts there. One was practically destroyed, and the second was outwardly intact, but inside was ruin and desolation. Someone told us that drug addicts like to gather there, but we have never seen them there.
On one fine day off we went to the cemetery again. Our task was to descend into the burial chamber of the surviving crypt. Everything was fine, but when we started the descent, my friend fell off the brickwork and fell down. He was not particularly hurt, but he tore off the inside of his hand badly. After that, the worst began.
Literally three days later, he had a fever and an ambulance arrived and took him to the hospital. According to his mother, an infection has entered the bloodstream. The treatment was very long and painful. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with meningitis. Two months later, my friend went out again and went to school. Strange, but this was a completely different boy. He became withdrawn and very cruel. Sometimes I was even scared to be friends with him. He constantly talked about death and admired the smell of the hospital. Once he calmly got up from the bench where we were sitting and went somewhere. I must say that our square was close to the sixteen-story building, where we could easily go to the roof. And now, ten minutes after he left, next to us, something dully hit the ground. When we got closer, we saw a cat lying on the grass. She looked scarypart of the intestines crawled out through the bursting stomach, the paws were broken and at the same time she was terribly wheezing.
It's hard to say who told his mother about this, but his parents started trying to do something about it. My parents were friends with his parents and told me a lot. It turns out that in the hospital he almost died and after clinical death he changed a lot. Doctors did not find pathologies, but one grandmother, to whom they took my friend, said that he shed blood on a dry altar stone. And now all that remains is to wait for death to take him.
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Once I realized that his parents did not know where he got scratched then and I told my mother everything. Mom naturally immediately shared information with his parents. They immediately rushed to that grandmother, and she ordered to bring me. Mom reluctantly, but let me go with a friend and his parents.
In a strange room, where there were many dry plants, the horns of some animal tied with a chain and many other strange things, there was an elderly woman in a scarf. She was very friendly and talked to us like a kind grandmother. At the same time, she dangled with a sharp knife egg yolks in a jar of water, and then poured hot red-hot wax over our heads. At the same time, she constantly muttered something and whispered to herself. My friend's mother was also present in the room. At the end of the session, the friend's grandmother and mother left the strange room, and we were told to wait outside. In twenty minutes we were on our way home. But it turned out that I would have to spend the night with a friend, that was the condition of the old witch.
I do not know why, then my parents agreed, they probably felt their guilt before the parents of a friend, but this night was the most terrible in my life. At about eight o'clock in the evening, I became very ill, and the same happened to my friend. The head was spinning, nauseous and there was a very strong feeling of anxiety. Every minute the condition worsened and became very stuffy.
At some point around midnight, I seem to have passed out. When I woke up in the apartment, a living hell was happening. My friend was cowardly, writhed in convulsions and tried to escape from the hands of his parents, while he cursed terribly and prayed that they would open the door or window. But they held him tight. Suddenly, unexpectedly, strong blows began to be heard at the door. The mother shouted to his father to count. The blows were so strong that it seemed the door was about to fly out. His father, sweating and distraught, accompanied each blow with a figure.
After the thirtieth blow, everything calmed down, my friend went limp and stopped resisting. Deathly silence fell in the apartment. A second later, the mother looked at his father and he said "Thirty."
After that, relations between our families deteriorated. I didn’t tell my parents about that crazy night, but every time I met my friend’s mom, I realized that in thirty years he would be gone.
BUKHRANSKY SERGEY