On forums where people post "stories from life", stories about incomprehensible, frightening and mystical adventures often come across. Until recently, I considered them just a figment of a rich imagination, supported by a fair amount of strong drinks.
A strange incident happened to me in late autumn. The place where we went to pick mushrooms is familiar, it is impossible to get lost. Calculated for the first or second and went each in his own direction. I do not like to wander in the forest in a large company: only to scare away mushrooms.
I immediately warned my friends: I was going alone, with only a dog. We are sneaking with the dog through the autumn forest. An hour, two, three. The packages are already full, but I don't want to go back. But we have to.
Having estimated which way to go, we trotted on the way back. The road to the car took less time than from it. I chalked it up to my quick wits, they say, cut the road well. True, the cut was not very successful. On one of the steep slopes from a hillock overgrown with thick slippery ferns, I slipped and rolled down at the fifth point, almost crushing the bags with the mushroom catch.
To the great joy of the dog, while trying to get up, I stumbled over a snag and plowed my nose for a couple of meters. Dirty as a forest devil, hungry and angry, I hurried to the island of civilization. We approach the car. The car is parked where it was left. Around - not a soul. Quiet, only the leaves rustle in the wind. The dog is nervous. Runs in circles around the car, bounces, whines. Retrievers are generally hyperactive creatures, but after three hours of walking on gullies they should have calmed down. An, no. He looks at me, runs back and calls back into the forest.
I click the key fob from the alarm: zero emotion. I click again - the same nonsense. I want to eat, drink and generally sit not on damp grass, but in a warm cabin. I'm trying to open the doors with the key: it feels like it's not from this car at all. Just in case, I look at the numbers. Yes, my car! What's the matter!
I make several unsuccessful attempts to enter the salon and understand that everything is not so at all. The license plates are mine, the car too, but the things in the cabin, as I can see through the glass, do not belong to me. Not to me, not to any of my friends. And I didn't have such brightly colored covers on the seats. Deciding that everything that had happened was someone's cruel joke, she took out her phone. Attempts to get through to his friends were unsuccessful: a piece of plastic stuffed with microchips was dead. The dog was still rushing around the car and calling back into the forest. I looked around: only now did I notice that the terrain had changed. Where is that stump that was to the left of the car, when I was parking, I was still afraid to hit the bump with the bumper. A sprawling birch rose in place of the stump. There was no trampled grass around the car, and there was no heap of debris,which, as usual, was left to us by lovers of forest picnics. The area looked completely foreign. The only familiar subject was my "little bitch", but it was impossible to get into it either. Neither key nor keychain.
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The usual autumn silence was all around, only the birch tree was ringing with yellow leaves. There was not heard the roll call of mushroom pickers, who at this time of the year are more than "forest meat". The sounds of passing cars did not come from the distant road. It seemed that I and the dog were the only ones who remained in this world …
Most of all I was depressed by the lack of communication. For some reason, the brain refused to panic. It is for the best: if I hit a hysterics, it is not known how it will end. The feeling of vacuum did not go away. I lifted my head to the sky, and then checked my watch. According to the clock and the position of the sun, luckily peeking out from behind the clouds, the time did not come together.
And that's what scared me. The panic, which had long been hiding behind logic, broke the saving dam and flooded the mind and body.
Suddenly the dog became alert, fell on its front paws and began to sniff the air noisily. She grinned, lifted the fur on the withers and growled. Usually this is how she reacts to stranger dogs and the approach of strangers. Through the hum of the gears torn off in my head, I heard distant voices and the abrupt barking of dogs. Something, or someone managed to warn: "Run!" I don’t know why, but only one thought was clear: it’s impossible to meet with those who will now approach the car. Otherwise, it's a disaster.
Greta was of the same opinion, clutching at the sleeve of her jacket and desperately dragging me back into the thicket. I grabbed the packages, do not waste the same good, and rushed away. I don’t remember how long we ran through the forest, wet spruce branches were whipping down our faces, and the birches were trying to knock out our eyes. I remember how, in complete prostration, I ran to the place from where I flew head over heels. The dog flew up the hill like lightning, barked desperately and darted about.
I stumbled again. Logically, according to all the laws of physics, I was supposed to do somersaults, but this did not happen. I stretched out flat on the wet grass, hit my forehead on a tree stump, and lost consciousness.
I woke up from the fact that Greta carefully licked my face and whined pitifully.
With difficulty collecting the scattered bones, I felt my forehead. In the center, where the third eye should be, a bleeding lump swells.
Somehow, limping, remembering the devil, and cursing the "quiet hunt", I set off again.
When the dog and I went out to the car again, friends were already crowding around it in bewilderment. They've been waiting for me for a couple of hours. The phone did not answer, and they were about to go comb the forest. I looked at the gadget: the smartphone showed a connection.
I clicked the keychain, which miraculously did not lose, and the car opened. The joyful dog was the first to climb into the salon. I did not want to answer the puzzled questions and views. I imagined how friends would look at me if I told everything how it was. I have only one witness, Greta, but she cannot speak.
Back home, I began to study sites on the paranormal. Different versions were put forward. Most of all I liked this: at the moment of falling from the hill, we fell into a spatial rift. We jumped out into a parallel reality, distinguished by small details. We were also lucky that we managed to get out the same way and did not add to the lists of the missing …