How my dead father saved me

This story was told by a resident of one of the regional centers of Russia,
called Andrey. And he did this in order to warn people against
the dangers that may lie in wait for them in such a seemingly
quiet and peaceful place like a graveyard. So, here is his story …

… My father died when I was twelve years old. Despite so
young age, I understood well what happened and was literally
crushed by grief that fell on us. During the funeral in general
something unimaginable was happening; it seemed to me that I was going crazy with
unbearable heartache and heart-breaking female cry.
When the coffin was lowered into the grave, I retreated a few steps
back: it was unbearable for me to see my father forever (!)
hiding from us in this damp, pungent-smelling earth. Nobody noticed,
as I retreated, at this moment they did not pay attention to me at all,
and I suddenly felt that I just could not stay here anymore.
What else a second – and monstrous pain will literally tear me apart
from the inside! ..

I took another step back, and more … and, finally getting out of
the crowd rushed to run, not knowing where and why. I had to
hide, take a break, even briefly hide from the terrible,
irreparable trouble …

I ran, apparently, for a long time, because, having come to myself, I didn’t
I heard no shouts, no voices – nothing at all but silence
interrupted only by bird chirp. I stood near the abandoned grave.
On the monument, which was buried in the weeds until the middle, was knocked out
a name, for some reason immediately bumped into my memory: Simbirtsev Alexander
Ignatievich.

Cold afterlife presence

I stood and breathed heavily – from a long run and tears … And suddenly
I felt that I was not alone, that someone was alien and hostile
standing behind my back. My heart sank, I wanted to run
further, but then my hand clasped something icy … Fear did not allow
me to see what it was; shouting desperately, I rushed from all
forces and rushed without dismantling the road.

I ran, jumping over something, winding between graves, and
shouting almost nonstop. I realized that I was lost in this
a huge city of the dead, where behind every grave mound can
lurk something inhumanly terrible, beyond …

Some older women stopped me, began to calm me down, oh
something to ask. I answered with difficulty that we buried my dad,
and then I got lost. Ahaya and moaning, compassionate old women took
me to the cemetery gate, where I was already rushing in desperate anxiety
my mother is surrounded by relatives and friends who are soothing her …

Nobody scolded me, everyone was too shocked and
exhausted by the events of this painful day. Sitting on the bus,
carrying us from the cemetery, I probably could calm down a bit and
relax if you didn’t feel someone’s invisible again
a presence from which everything was ashamed of me. Daring i even
turned his head, but no one unfamiliar, and the more terrible in
cabin did not see. During the commemoration the unpleasant sensation intensified: I
could not eat, although he was hungry, and sat in some kind of stupor …

By evening it got worse: I literally fell asleep on the go and at the same time
while panicked afraid to go to bed. Why I did not tell about everything
mother or grandmother? Probably because I didn’t want to scare them
upset even more. However, now I do not remember.
But I remember the feeling of something terrible and inevitable that
should have happened at night.

I slept in the same room with my sister. Angela has long been laid down
putting out the light; in the darkness she could hear her sleepy breath. Shyly approached
I slid silently under my blanket to my bed and squeezed my eyes shut.
It seemed to me that it would be in the dark that one would appear,
who relentlessly followed me from an abandoned grave …

Help the deceased father

… I dreamed of some kind of maze – interlacing of endless
gloomy corridors along which I ran, fleeing from a terrible chase.
But no matter how hard I tried to break away from my pursuer, he
gradually catching up with me, breathing in the back of the head with the grave cold …

Realizing that I was driven into a dead end and what will happen to me now
something more terrible than death, I pressed into the wall. But the wall suddenly
turned out to be a door; she flies inward and her hands are pulled
me in a dark room. I saw … father.

�“Listen to me, son,” he hastily and somehow spoke deafly. –
The one who chases you is a former suicide, he could not
buried in the cemetery. Ему плохо, дух его – между небом и землей.
He needs your body. But don’t be afraid, it will disappear at dawn and
no more disturbing you. Just remember, son, before that he
will call you Как – не знаю, поэтому не откликайся ни на что.
No matter what, got it? ”

The next moment I woke up. The heart beat bewildered, and all
i was wet with sweat. The dream seemed to me so real, in my ears still
the last words of the father sounded! .. I lay staring out the window, behind
that the sky was already filled with predawn green-purple peacock
color, and did not know what to expect from the upcoming day. All of a sudden i
heard Angela quietly call me by name.

�“What do you want?” – I wanted to say, but for some reason did not say. AT
the next second I understood why. �”Do not respond to anything,” –
my father told me, and I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

“Andrei, I know that you are not sleeping,” the sister said. –
I have something in my eye. ATстань, посмотри.

�“I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you at all,” I began to say.
About myself.

“Andrew, what are you,” Angela said plaintively. – Мне ведь
painfully!..

�”Shut up, shut up, shut up!” – I ordered mentally.

“Well, Andrei, well, stand up,” my sister snapped. – Ну,
you are welcome…

�“Yes, it’s really not her! – вдруг понял я. – Анжела
never behaves like that! ”

And, as if to confirm my thoughts, her voice snapped with
undisguised malice:

– ATстань и посмотри мне в глаз! Now!

But now I knew that I would not do it for anything. And the one who
spoke in the voice of my sister, probably realized this, because suddenly
erupted in brutal abuse, pronounced male bass.

But I already understood that he would not do anything to me. Я и мой отец – мы
proved to be stronger than him. And the second that I understood was even more important.
My father did not disappear! He did not die at all! He is somewhere, he loves me
and, as before, takes care of me! ..

And when I realized that, I started crying again. But I already cried
differently, the feeling of gratitude was added to the acute sadness and
such an unbearably aching love that I have never experienced to
living father …

– Andrew, what are you? Is it because of dad?

Awakened by my cry, Angela came over, sat on my bed and
began stroking my head, wiping away tears. And the window was already beaten
the first rays of the sun, dispelling everything dark, creepy, evil, and afraid
I had no one else …

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