Cream

 A birthday is perceived by a birthday boy as a bright holiday only in childhood. Later, it becomes clear that the celebration that is being held does not arise by itself, and you need to put a lot of work and a lot of money into it to get something worthy. Some, however, put a lot of alcohol into it and rush into their new year on wine fumes and without unnecessary mental anguish. For a woman, it's even more deplorable. Firstly, there is a lot of demand from the hostess of the celebration, and secondly, every year she gets further and further away from the coveted youth and beauty.

These were the sad thoughts that plagued Sveta shortly before the holiday. Her friends had already notified her and warned her that they would definitely come to her for the holiday, so that she would not even think about giving an excuse to get together and have a good walk. Sveta was counting the money remaining from her last paycheck, squinting at expensive miracle creams in stores that promised to give her five years of youth, and desperately did not want to spend the remaining funds in one evening.

She was not a stupid woman and understood that she would not be able to get away, which meant that she had to look for benefits in this position. Therefore, she, in turn, a week before the celebration, handed her friend a sheet from a notebook.:

— Here, give it to me for my birthday. I don't need a dozen souvenirs, and you don't have to give me bouquets. Damn it, they won't save me. I know it's not cheap, but if you divide the amount by all of them, then it's fine. You just give the others an idea.

The friend was old and trusted, and she treated the request with due attention and delicacy. That evening, she called everyone else and warned them that she had already chosen a gift, and that all that remained was to raise money for it and buy it. It was necessary — two days later, Lizaveta collected the last installment and went to the store. But the right thing wasn't in it. It's New Year's Eve, and the goods are expensive, but they're all sold out, sorry.

Just in case, Lisa ran around the smaller shops for two more days, then she went around all the basement stalls, but she still didn't find anything. And time passed. The savior, quite by chance, was an unknown woman who witnessed Lisa's conversation with a salesman in another store. Yes, she has just that thing. Yes, unopened. From where? My daughter gave it to me, but it's kind of a pity to spend such a treasure on yourself. It's expensive. So why not sell to someone who really needs it?

So, the gift was presented to the happy birthday girl on time.

In the evening, Sveta unwrapped the bundle and smiled. Yes, that's exactly what she asked for. A wonderful cream packed with useful substances so much that, according to reviews, even decrepit old women turned into young girls. Well, if we put aside the exaggerations, she has gained a couple of years for herself — she can manage to get married. Or just enjoy a little more simple female happiness.

Sveta opened the jar and inhaled the light, slightly sour fragrance. What does it smell like? The fresh scent of gooseberries, mown grass, and something else completely elusive came to mind.

The cream was absorbed into the skin instantly, laying on the cheeks with a delicate silk. Sveta finished the evening sacrament and went to bed, happy and, as it seemed to her, weightless.

After a couple of months, she was unrecognizable — rejuvenated, prettier, it seemed that her skin was glowing and filled with strength and health. Even Sveta's look has changed. There was no shortage of fans now, and Lizaveta, looking at her friend, bought a miracle remedy herself. But the cream didn't suit her. Yes, he's good. Yes, it's high-quality, but no miracle happened to her skin. The cream is like a cream, I shouldn't have overpaid.

Towards summer, Sveta finally decided on the choice of her chosen one, set the wedding date for the middle of summer and immersed herself in the atmosphere of preparation for such an important event. This preparation exhausted her so much that the groom could not stand it and once almost forcibly took the woman out of the city. It's not superfluous for anyone to spend a week in the country — there's fresh air, fruits and vegetables from the garden, and fresh milk, and there's practically no connection — an ideal place to relax.

On the second day of my stay at the cottage, I sighed and scraped out the remnants of the cream from the jar, applied it evenly on my face and went to bed. The groom went on a night fishing trip and promised to arrive home with fresh fish when she woke up. Thinking about these simple joys — the groom and the fish, Sveta fell asleep.

And then, for the first time in years, she had a nightmare. She dreamed that she was standing on top of a hill, the ground was bulging under her feet, and the wind was hot and sticky in her face. The wind seems to be blowing, and the hair is hanging like whips, and it's uncomfortable to look through them. She tries to remove them with her hand, but her hand dries up and turns yellow from the wind right in front of her eyes, and the skin scabs off. She tries to scream and feels her dry tongue scratching the roof of her mouth. And then I saw something like white pearls fall under my feet. He tries to sit down, but the bones do not bend, the muscles dry out. With difficulty, she felt the pearls near her feet, brought them to her eyes and recoiled — her teeth were lying in the palm of her hand.

Sveta screamed pitifully, inhaled the sticky wind and coughed, feeling the thin tissue of her lungs tearing.

She tried to get off the hill, but the rocky ground crumbles under her feet, and the body, eaten away by the disease, is not her helper. Sveta couldn't stay on her feet, rolled head over heels on the hot ground, feeling her body crumble, and... woke up.

I woke up in a panic, tossed around in bed, and started crying. And, feeling tears running down her cheeks, she gradually calmed down, stroked her strong, well-shaped body with her hands, counted her teeth with her tongue, was surprised at her own nightmare, and fell asleep again.

The next evening, remembering about the dream, Sveta did not let the groom go fishing. He has nothing to wander around when the lady of his heart needs moral and physical support. The woman fell asleep that evening, resting in the arms of her beloved man, and it seemed to her that she was protected better than anyone in the world.

It seemed wrong, by the way.

I opened the eyes of the Light on the already familiar hill. The same hot sticky wind, the same hot stones underfoot. This time she did not wait for an illness, but immediately tried to go downstairs, where, as it seemed to her, ordinary life was in full swing.

She managed to take two steps, and then she felt salty blood in her mouth, felt a loose tooth with her tongue and rushed down, not understanding the way.

The dust that rose from this enveloped the woman in a vile cloud, and Sveta felt the acrid dust penetrate deep into her body, drying up her flesh. And the eyes! God, my eyes hurt when they were covered with this dust! It felt like all those cones and rods she'd read about in biology classes were bursting from the inside.

When the dust had eaten away the tissues of her face and reached her brain, Sveta woke up in horror.

The girl was waiting for the next night like torture. She was both afraid and at the same time realized that a dream was a dream, and it was stupid to worry about it. These nightmares are the consequences of the excitement before the wedding, and nothing more. It is necessary to overcome yourself and your worries, then the nightmares will recede. Well, as a last resort, the wedding is just around the corner, and after the celebration everything will settle down.

Once on the hill, Sveta forgot all her evening attempts to calm down and panicked. What to do? You can't go down, you can't fly up, and standing here means slowly falling apart. The familiar and hated sticky wind did not take long to wait, and the woman tried to turn away from it, but it turned out that the wind was omnipresent.

She hid her face behind her hands and, slowly and carefully rearranging her legs, began to descend. Her teeth might fall out, her skin might wither, but maybe she could finally make it to the bottom of the hill alive.

One step, two, three. The lower incisors fell on the tongue like heavy beads. Sveta pushed them behind her cheek with her tongue, not daring to open her mouth, and continued her descent.

The nails were next in line. They peeled off in transparent rounded plates and fell into the dust. The dust did not slow down to bite into the unprotected meat, corroding it and causing severe pain.

Sveta restrained herself with the last of her strength and did not scream, and did not hurry. I remembered yesterday's lesson.

Lower and lower she descended, and her hands withered, her legs went wild, her skin burned, and her hair had long been stuck together and hung in heavy icicles. However, not for long. It took her a moment to realize what kind of dark snake had fallen at her feet, but then she felt a sore bald spot on her head with her fingers and realized that the snake was a lock of her hair.

Most of the descent has already been completed, and you can already see the green grasses below, and the wind blowing from below has picked up a pleasant familiar smell. It could smell like gooseberry berries, freshly cut grass, and honey.

But the closer the cherished valley was, the stranger the fragrance became, turning into a suffocating stench that rolled in waves. Sveta had no strength left, and she sank down on the hot stones and crawled forward on all fours, still hoping to find salvation.

The moment the woman reached the heavy-smelling grass, she saw thousands of insects scurrying everywhere. She moaned, dropped her head into her hands, and the goosebumps did not slow down to bite into her thin skin.

The pain was so intense that Sveta had a second wind. Her tortured body was convulsing, and she was scratching at her cheeks and forehead with her fingers, trying to drive away the insects, and the flesh, no longer protected by her nails, was fraying and melting, exposing the bones. The last thing she felt was the overwhelming pain that spread through her body in waves and drilled into her brain.

At that moment, when Sveta began to tear her face with her own nails, Oleg woke up and tried to hold her beloved. But even his strength was not enough to stop the distraught woman, and he could only cling to her hands as the woman tore off the layers of meat and skin from her face. When she finally stopped and went limp, Oleg was horrified to see in the dark the snow-white bones of the skull, freed from such malleable flesh.