Revenge of the orphan

My cousin Sveta got married twenty years ago to a military college cadet. Accordingly, I spent five years with him in all the garrisons before returning back to Moscow. At that time, they lived somewhere far away in Siberia, in a military dormitory, and there was an orphanage across the street from the dormitory. Svetka is very good, compassionate, loves children, and she became attached to an orphan girl. Actually, the girl was not a complete orphan — she formally had a grandmother, but she renounced all rights to her granddaughter and handed her over to an orphanage herself. The girl's name was Nadia, and she was about five years old. At that time, Svetka had a son, but she took care of both children equally. She agreed with the orphanage administration that the girl would stay with her. And they are only happy: a woman with a cart is easier for a mare. The orphans were compensated by the state. As it is, Nadia was unofficially adopted, and the money for her continues to flow into the orphanage account...

In general, Sveta lived with her husband and children in Omutninsk for five years, and it was time to return home. Nadia, of course, was taken with them. Sveta's husband, Zhenya, has already taken up Nadia's official adoption. And it had to happen that already in Moscow, at the last stage of applying for adoption, Nadia was caught stealing from the already meager family treasury. What are the salaries of the military? A scandal broke out with tears and screams, and the question arose of sending Nadia back home. Like, if a girl steals from people who tear off the last piece of themselves for her, then what happens next? My light is in tears. He screams: "Let's forgive for the first time? A child, after all! You're still stupid!" But Zhenya firmly said that he did not want to take any chances. And he sent the girl back to Omutninsk... Svetka later told with tears how she stood on the platform of the station, and Nadia shouted through the window: "Mommy, forgive me!". Svetka was terribly worried. I cried for a long time. I couldn't forgive Eugene.

And then years passed, a second son was born, and everything gradually faded away. But with the birth of the youngest Danka in the family, Svetka began to have problems and troubles. The eldest son, Seryozha, kept breaking his arms and legs, and had three concussions in six months... Like a ten—year-old boy, it's clear that there will be bruises and bumps and fractures, but not in the same amount, and everything is almost out of the blue. The youngest child, as they brought him from the hospital, did not get off the sick leave.: sometimes it's a terrible allergy, sometimes it's asthma (it's a month-old baby), or something worse... Eugene's back began to torment him. The doctor said it was an intervertebral hernia. The family discord has begun. Sometimes in ten years there hasn't been a single major quarrel, except for that incident with Nadia, then every day there is a squabble until the divorce. There was no face on Svetka. I haven't been to work for weeks: the children are sick, and there's no one to leave them with. At that time, Svetka worked as a cashier at the Arbat Prestige store. Her colleagues began to look at her suspiciously: there was a beautiful ruddy-cheeked girl with her husband, a major, and now there is only one shadow left. And now a colleague comes up to her (by the way, Svetka didn't have any friends at work. So, hello, goodbye) and says: "Sveta, I don't know what happened there, but I'll give you a tip: go to your grandmother alone. Don't interrupt, let me tell you everything. This is in the Tambov region, you need to go there for at least a week. And the whole family. I come from there myself, and I have an old apartment there. I'll give you the keys, but you'll need to live somewhere. Anyway, think about it." Svetka waved it off, and in the evening, for some reason, she told Eugene about the conversation.

Eugene just needs to know before approaching him with this kind of conversation: a hefty mustachioed man, a major in the Presidential courier service, the devil himself is not a brother to such a man. I've seen things in my life that a healthy brain can't handle. But Zhenya doesn't care. And for talking about money, you could easily get a two-hour lecture from Eugene about the dangers of drugs. But then a strange thing happened — Eugene listened to his wife and said: "I'll take a week off, let's go to Grandma's." There's a light and a fall, like winter crops. But let's go.

We arrived, settled into the apartment of Svetka's colleague, and the next day went to that grandmother. A colleague warned me that I had to walk to my grandmother. No cars, buses, or even bicycles. Only on foot, like pilgrims. Their grandmother wouldn't let them go beyond the threshold. She said, "Are the children unbaptized? And if they're baptized, why don't they have crosses? Go to the church, buy them the simplest crosses and come back." The church was in the same village, not far away, so they went there and bought the children simple crosses on a consecrated string. We put them on and went back to Grandma. The eldest son walked by himself, and Svetka carried the youngest in her arms. And then, about a hundred meters from his grandmother's house, junior suddenly began to scream in Svetka's arms, squirm and scratch his neck. Svetka turned back her collar, and there were blisters on the spot where the baby's cross rope ran, as if from burns. Svetka's hair stands on end. Eugene is also pale, but he tries to keep calm. He took the child from Svetka and went to his grandmother's house. With each step, the child screamed louder, and his entire neck was already covered with blisters. Svetka even rushed to take off the cross, but Eugene wouldn't let her.

This time, the grandmother let everyone in, read prayers, mumbled, fumbled, the child calmed down, and she let everyone go home, instructing them to come to her tomorrow.

The guys went to see their grandmother for almost a week. She said prayers every time, but nothing else out of the ordinary happened.

On the seventh day, they came to her for the last time. Everything was as usual: grandma was saying prayers, Svetka was sitting in front of grandma with the baby in her arms, and Eugene was standing outside. For some reason, his grandmother scolded him separately. Seryozha was sitting by the window and looking out. I can't tell you any more in my own words, I'm telling you in my own words.:

"Grandma is reading something, I almost fell asleep on a chair, and then I hear laughter. It gives me the creeps. People don't laugh like that. It's disgusting, disgusting, and completely un-human. I've lost my sleep, goosebumps, and I start looking around until it dawns on me that it's my son Seryozha laughing! He was just sitting there, with his back to me, facing the window, and laughing terribly. That laugh made my hair stand on end. Then Grandma turns to Seryozha, looks at his back, then turns to me and says, "Ugh on you! I didn't see your boy right away! If I had seen it right away, I would never have contacted you!" Then she goes up to Serezha, puts her hand on his head and asks, "What's your name?" Seryozha turns around, and then, sorry for the details, I naturally made a puddle: it wasn't my son! His face was blue, his eyes were completely rolled back under his forehead, and only the whites were visible, his mouth was bared, his teeth were out, drool was dripping from them, and he was laughing... Then I screamed. And grandma's going to yell at me.: "Get out! Get out! Call your father!" I grab Danila, I go outside, I'm all wet, God forgive me, I jump out, I shout to Eugene to come in, I fall to the ground and howl with animal fear. A minute later, I hear my grandmother's voice: "Mother! Call your mother!" I fly into the hut, and grandma shouts to me: "Pray!", I also shout: "I can't!", and grandma says to me: "As you can, so pray! Fall down in front of the icons!" I'm on my knees, and I don't know any prayers! And I don't know what to say either. I'm just screaming: "Lord, save and have mercy!" My Eugene is huddled in a corner, gray-haired all over... At the age of thirty, he turned gray in a minute! Serezha, or I don't know who, is sitting on a chair and still laughing like a madman, and those white eyes, teeth bared... Grandma shouts, "What's your name, answer me?!" and Sergei didn't even say, but spat out, "Nadia!" And Grandma says to him, "Why did you put such trash on your father's back, Nadia?" and Seryozha laughs even louder: "May you all die here, you bastards! I hate it!" That's when I lost consciousness, apparently. I woke up on the street. Next to him, Eugene is gray-haired and my Earring, completely normal, only pale and scared. And I'm afraid to look at him. I don't know who's with me now: my son or an unknown creature? Zhenya says to me, "Go to your grandmother. She asked when you'd wake up..." I'm coming in. Grandma says to me, "What kind of Nadia is this?" I honestly answer, "I have no idea. I don't know a single Nadia." Grandma says again, "Remember. There was a Nadia in your life. And Nadia's grandmother was not a good one. Oh, it's not good." And then I got hit on the head by Nadia! Nadia is from Siberia! I immediately told my grandmother that long-ago story. And the grandmother swears: "You fools! At least they could make some inquiries about the girl. She had a grandmother, God forbid she should meet one on her way. Even I wouldn't try to compete. And before she died, she told Nadia everything. And the girl has a big grudge against you. Remember: did you leave any personal belongings for her?" I say, "Well, what kind of things? She took our gifts with her, of course. Am I going to take her gifts away from the child? There were also my things there: I didn't have much money, I was sewing my skirts and blouses for Nadia. She left in them." Grandma said to me, "Well, congratulations on that. She put a death spell on your whole family through your stuff. Everyone would get out, one by one." Then I burst into tears: "What should I do?". Grandma paused, chewed her lips, and said, "Send your father home tomorrow. And let him take the younger one away. You and the older one will stay here. And you will come to me every day."

The next day, Eugene and Danka left. And I stayed with Seryoga. I'm ashamed to say, but I was terrified of my own son. I was afraid to stay in the same room with him, I was afraid to turn off the lights at night. I could still hear his inhuman laughter in my ears. Seryozha himself did not remember anything at all, he said that he just sat, looked out the window and listened to his grandmother's mumbling — everything was as usual. The next day, Seryozha and I went to Grandma's again. She sat Serezha on a chair in front of the window and began to whisper something. And then I heard that creepy laugh again. I almost peed myself again. Seryozha was laughing very loudly, but then grandma made some kind of movement with her hands behind his back, and the laughter stopped. The grandmother was making some movements with effort, as if she was breaking or tearing something off. Seryozha began to scream as if in pain. The grandmother "broke" something for about five minutes, and then she opened the window wide and screamed: "Get out of here, get out! Get out, I said!" And then Seryozha says in such a plaintive and unfamiliar voice: "How am I going to go? You broke my wings..." I howled in fear, and Grandma kept yelling, "Whatever you want, fly! Get out, get out of here!" Here, the window will shut with all its might — as soon as the glass doesn't fly out? My earring has dropped his head on the windowsill and seems to be asleep. His grandmother shook him by the shoulder, he raises his head, his eyes sleepy: "Mom, did I fall asleep?". And I'm sitting there crying, covered in snot, and nodding my head like an elephant...

Anyway, we went to Grandma's for three more days, and then we came home. And I'm still so scared, especially when I look at Zhenya's hair... I even quit smoking, I don't drink anything, not even beer, and I don't swear anymore, even in anger. And it always seems to me that my son is not my son. I also bought a prayer belt for myself in church, and I wear it all the time on my naked body. I'm scared...".

Almost ten years have passed since then. Sergei is already nineteen years old, an incredibly charming and talented boy: a musician, plays in a band, performs. I go to his performances. I love this boy very much — it's impossible not to love him: he exudes some incredible aura of charm. But when he stays at my place overnight, for some reason I don't turn off the light in the room either. I don't know why. And I'll never tell Seryozha about it.