From the author
The horror genre attracts us for natural reasons. Endorphins bringing us the most intense feelings. Therefore, we evoke fear artificially; jumping with a parachute, or on the couch in front of the TV, looking for a new scary movie.
We are so accustomed to scary movies that it becomes more and more challenging to evaluate danger in everyday life.; We are attracted to REAL threats to life because of the hormones they will produce..
I came to America almost two years ago, and one of the reasons was freedom from fear.
America is truly a great country where people have been working hard since its founding. Especially in a place like New York City, where people works truly hard. It’s 21st century, after all, people don’t believe in ghost, spirits and demons as they were couple hundreds years ago.
I can offer this testimony about this other terrible world: I visited the apartment I had heard about in advance. I’ve been warned that this house is weird and scary, though.
In this situation, I was attracted to the scary, but that has left a permanent scar on my psyche. It’s a real story, where I found myself in a situation where I had to choose: either save my face, or keep my soul.
It was a difficult choice because I thought it was all just my imagination that had overcome my the self-preservation instinct.
This book means a lot to me. It became both my friend and my psychologist; with whom I shared the most intimate moments.
Enjoy!
Inscription
I wanted to smash everything around, ruin my own life until someone else did…
(Sam Hayes)
I woke to a child’s scream from the next room, as I got out of bed to see what happened, I felt a warm hand touching my hand.
“She is on her way,” my husband said quietly. I looked towards the door.
My warm husband in the bed that was so comfortable. I wanted to go back to bed and hug him sweetly.
Just as he predicted, our daughter ran into our room.“Mom, I just saw someone in my mirror. I’m terrified! It looked like a boy. What was it?”
“Do not worry, sweetheart. I t was just a dream, everything is okay.” I replied and took her in my arms.
“No, mother, it was not a dream, I was already in bed for about five minutes and was painting something on the wall …” at that moment she realized that she had given herself away and abruptly stopped talking.
“Did you draw something on the wall?” – I got angry – “you know that this is not our apartment, and we will do not get our deposit back. Although what do you understand?” I calmed myself; she is still a child and, of course, she can do childish things, like I did at her age.
“Joe, no more painting on the walls anymore, okay? Lie down with your dad, and I’ll see how to erase what you wrote.”
I got out of bed and thought again how tired I am of cleaning up after everyone. For my daughter, for my husband and even for strangers. To feed my family, I have to travel to other people’s apartments to wash their windows, walls, kitchens, and toilets. Coming home and repeating the same thing over and over again. All the time that I was awake, I had to repair, wash, and clean. I tried to keep myself in hand, but I wanted to give up everything and just relax. Start doing my own thing, have my own hobbies, But it was all a pipe dream. Sometimes it seems that the country where I grew up was not that terrible. I emphasized the word “seemed” because there was no way back.
We often forgetting the bed experience, our memory keeps mostly bright and good memories, that is why we keeping make the same mistakes over and over again.
When I left the room I met our roommates.
“Are you all right there? What a cry so early in the morning. It’s Easter.” Ivan asked angrily.
“It’s okay!” I answered, interrupting him, unwilling to explain myself to strangers.
“Anastasia, you did not wash the dishes yesterday”. said Victor. Although they often did not clean up after themselves, and in their room, everything was unorganized as they did not know about the purpose of the cabinets.
I stopped in front of the door, threw my head back and announced: “I returned at 11 p.m., I did not even see the kitchen!”
“Well, one of your … just figure it out …Ok? Ok!” They continued to drink coffee and stare out the window. I don’t know why or how, but they didn’t do anything for living. I don’t know why? Or they sat on the neck of the country or grabbed God by the beard. I even envied them a little.
“Okay! Christ is Risen! (that’s what we say in Ukraine and Russia when it’s Orthodox Easter)” I said, and entered the room of my daughter. They did not answer me.
I began to look for the inscription, and for a moment, I thought that she just had a dream: she did not draw anything here. I was glad until I saw it.
“Mom, look at death!”
Goosebumps ran all over my body. The letters were so small that I was not sure what I am seeing.
“Joe!” I shouted “Come here, fast!”
“Come yourself!” She cried back, laughing with her dad. They saw me as an eternally unhappy, barking dog. But a woman who is forced to work from morning till night cannot be an exemplary mother and wife. Therefore, they were both against me.
“Joe, if you don’t come, you’ll be in trouble!”
Not wanting to go, I heard her sigh and stomp with significant steps towards me.
“Well, what is the matter? I’m sorry mommy, I didn’t mean to!” – in a childish, naive voice and beautiful eyes, she urged me not to get angry.
“What did you write here?” – I asked with great interest.
“I do not know … there are some letters.”
“I SEE!” I lost my voice; I could not believe what was on the wall.
“Mom, I honestly do not understand what’s here. We just started learning the alphabet.”
“But you wrote it? You just said…”
“I remember that I took a pencil and began to draw something. I knew you would not like it, and I should stop. But I couldn’t until I turned to the mirror. Forgive me, mummy.” she began to hug me and pressed against my stomach.
I did not want to be angry with her; I understood that perhaps it was left from previous residents. And she just had a dream. She could not yet correctly build a sentence. And about death … she didn’t even know such a word. I need to ask my husband.
“Andrew,” I shouted, “come here.” I looked at my daughter and said, “Joe, go wash and brush your teeth. But If the bathroom is occupied, go to our bed and wait until it is free.”
As soon as I finished talking to my daughter, a still sleepy husband entered the room.
“Andrew, read what written here on the wall!” I said, with a raised eyebrows.
He squinted to read. Then, he looked at me in dismay, “Sunny, I do not see without glasses, what’s the matter?”
“Put on your glasses and read what you see.”
He came back with glasses. And began to read:
“Mom” – he said “Look?” He said uncertainly. “at deep?”…
“TO DEATH!” – I corrected him. – “It says ‘to death,’ Andrew! How can you not see?”
“Anastasia, do not invent things! Something seems mysterious to you all the time. The child could not write this. She does not know how. It was most likely written before we got here, and don’t worry about the deposit. Nobody will notice this. Enough yourself to cheat! By the way, today is Easter? I think I heard something from the neighbors. Are you going somewhere today?
“Unfortunately, I am! I am glad that I will have only one apartment. But I do not want to go anywhere, although I understand that we need money, nobody except us will take care of our daughter..”
He interrupt, “I know, I know, well, don’t worry, we will have a little rest, we’ll watch cartoons in the bed and play video games. -He smiled and knew that now I would start screaming at him, I could not do anything else?
“Maybe go to the store, tidy up in the apartment?” I ask softly
He kissed me. We played this script almost every day. But still, I understood that he was also exhausted, so today I acted differently:
“Ok, wait for me. I hope it will not be for very long, around 5 hours I guess.”
Joe had already turned on the TV and comfortably settled in our bed. I did not want to ruin this peaceful family time. After all, today is Sunday. Orthodox Easter. Daughters do not need to go to kindergarten. I wish I wouldn’t have to go anywhere: All three of us could be lying in bed. And I don’t give a fuck what neighbors think about dirty dishes or our laughter. We would gladly move out, but for the time being, we cannot find an apartment. Without a credit score and steady income, it is just not possible.
I went to the shower and washed my face under a stream of warm, pleasant water, the inscription in my head came to me again.
“Mom, look at death!”
No, not to the “deep” as suggested by Andrew. It is to “death” … What a horror.
I tried to remove all thoughts from my head, but in so doing I increased them in number: like ants, they were invincible – the more you try to destroy them, the angrier they become …
Afraid of seeing something else, I opened my eyes. I could hear the sound of my daughter as she utters these terrible words again and again.
“I’m going crazy,” I thought. I was only 26 years old. I was still in my prime. I can control many things but not my mind.
After I left bathroom I went to the room to get dressed. I wore maroon leggings, a black turtleneck, and sneakers, and I put on a denim jacket over everything. I did not know how to dress at all. To be honest, I always dressed so that no one paid attention to me. It seems I am meant to be different or even beautiful, and I’m scared of women’s criticism. They are jealous over their husbands with me.. Therefore, the “gray mouse” is my perfect outfit. Which means it will be harder to get 1 million subscribers on Instagram than to climb Everest.
“Mom,” my daughter said. – “Do not go! …”
“Yes, Mom … do not go!” Said my husband. – “Come to the warm bed. It’s still cold outside.”
“Come on, why are you seducing me? Or you think I don’t need a break from you all?”
I kissed them both and said, “You will be fine without me.”
I’m trying not to look at them anymore. So as not to hurt their feelings. Staying together is an enjoyable pastime for all three of us.
I made breakfast. Most recently, I learned how to cook pancakes, but not so tasty as our Russian “Blinchiki”. It helps me to go out on time, The mix is ready for water and voila! Pour a few circles on the pan and you’re done!
I smiled and thought about everything beautiful that has happened in my life, even if it’s hard. Would never have thought that I would live in New York. I do not plan it at all. Every evening I feel like water crashing on the stones at Niagara Falls. When will it all pass? When will there be treasured silence and pease in this American Dream?
Killing Assistance
My work helps distract me, so I said goodbye to my relatives and headed from Brooklyn towards Manhattan. The road was long, so I needed to entertain myself. I manage to do this with beautiful thoughts or different memories. While I’m on my way, I will tell you a funny story that happened to me at this magnificent waterfall, which I passionately wanted to see all my life; Niagara Falls.
When I was younger, I loved to climb. Up trees, or on the roof. Ask my parents, I am the type of girl who is always looking for troubles. And this day was no exception.
The stream, which eventually forms the waterfall is protected by a fence with stone inserts. These inserts are rather wide and low about chest high I climbed one of them and sat to take a couple of juicy photos for an Instagram I was planning on calling, “finally, my dream came trueDid I try to stand on this stone, I already do not remember well. But I do remember the guard who approached us.
He was going to arrest me … yes. For getting out to the fence. He lectured us on morality for a long time and let us go. Perhaps the frightened eyes of our child saved me from a cold jail cell? I do not know.
As I was still on my way, I Googled Niagara Falls. I was in shock – people who’ve been swimming in this waterfall have two roads – one to prison and the other to the morgue.
I didn’t knew about that before I went there in past.
Actually, the American side of the waterfall, where the stone fence was located, does not provide the option of going to prison, only to the morgue.
I thought about it, this terrible death. Pictures crawled in my head like ants. Nothing could stop the horror that I felt. I imagined trying to swim against the current as I heard to the cries of my daughter and husband. Terrible – I screwing my face and yanking my leg.
Why did I not think about it before when I chose this damned stone?
So why do survivors have a road to jail? Because those who have ever tried to save a man who fell into this water died. Thank God not all. But still. People want to “help” but lose their health or even their life…