Rus Articles Journal

Fears from our childhood of

“In black - the black city, are black - the black street. On black - to the black street there is black - the black house. In black - the black house there is black - the black apartment. In this black - the black apartment - black - the black room. In black - to the black room there is black - a black table. On black - a black table there is black - a black coffin. The dead person gets out of a coffin and shouts: “Give my heart!“ Touching old filing, I came across the Pioner magazine to which in the childhood to us mother subscribed. Waited every month for it an exit only from - for two headings:“ Drum“ (it is some kind of forum as now it is accepted to speak), and stories - horror stories. Memoirs from the childhood gushed over me...

These horror stories to us for the night was read by elder sister. I remember, we slept on two (I grew in a large family). I “got“ Lenuska, youngest. I in general was quite shy child. That to tell volume what impression on me was made by these stories. Therefore after these terrible stories I needed to feel someone`s presence, so to speak, something live... Could calm the fear, having only embraced the little sister. But it was not pleasant to Lenke. Therefore quite often it was necessary to bargain. The benefit, I grew at the clever child, and Lena did not like to study, here and reached compromise: she allowed it to embrace, and I promised to do it homeworks. Problems, as a rule, arose during the periods of vacation - then it was necessary to be limited to Murka or Jessica.

Oh, something I was forgotten... It is time to sleep. I will look at the magazine tomorrow. And the synulka already snores in the neighboring room. Spread a bed, changed clothes, turned off the light, laid down. Darkly... Terribly... Oh, what is it? Zelenenkoye something blinks. Faugh, the column from the computer burns... It is necessary to switch off, and that I will not fall asleep. Only was going to rise - knock... Perfectly I understand that it is neighbors, but some fear was rolled that it is terrible to rise. Yes well it, this column! So I will fall asleep.

Turned over on the other side. And zelenenky light continues to burn in a pier glass mirror. It was covered with a blanket completely. No, so even more terribly and to pant. The child spoke to me: “Let`s get a kitty or a doggie!“

Got out of “shelter“. And again memoirs gushed... Somehow was that all my sisters and the brother studied in the first change, and I in the second. Therefore those days when I did not go to a muzykalka, one was at home in the mornings. But for me it was as punishment. As soon as all members of household left, I found some “spot“ on a wall and sat, zastyv, before mother`s arrival. It is clear, that no speech about house cleaning or a lunch could be for what quite often received clips from mother. At those moments to me was offensively and annoyingly: as mother does not understand that there “a red spot“! Yes I am afraid to move, not that to go on the house!

From memoirs it became a little ridiculous. “To Kirill already five, - I thought. - Here will go to school, and it will begin these baizes. Yes, interestingly it turns out. The fact that in the childhood it seems to us just accident seems to adults such nonsense!“ Here all pleasant thoughts evaporated. Darkness prevailed again. Hm, as I told it there: “It seems to adults such nonsense?“ It became a shame... I am 27 years old!. And it is still terrible. Turned over on the other side. Again column... Yes put already and not in it... The fear did not pass. Just as in the childhood. Rescue one - to drag the son to itself. Oops! And how education? Hardly it accustomed to sleep separately! Big already! It seems and ceased to ask... Education - that education, and fear fear. “And then, - I am repaid, - to the child as early as 5 years, and he sleeps one in other room! And if to it it is terrible? And there is no mother nearby?“

Having taken courage, groping “way“ on walls, I reached - the nursery. Did not begin to turn on the light not to wake synulyu. Accurately took Kiryushka on hands, pressed to a breast. That moved a little, but did not wake up. It is back terrible to go was not any more. Even is somehow lighter it seemed. Laid down, embraced. Here it, my, native. Tuk - tuk - tuk, a heart fights... What? Black tulip? A coffin on castors? Red spot? Black hand? The nonsense is some, nonsense! And me it was not terrible at all! Hm! Honestly - it is honest! Yes it I am so! Yes you that?! Hm..., what athlete at me! Unless can frighten with it something?! Mine, rodnoyo, favourite! To sleep! To sleep. To sleep...