Александра Крючкова

Книга Знаний. Book of Knowledge. 1. Игра в Иную Реальность. 1. Playing Another Reality (Билингва Rus/Eng)


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земных желаний, иначе ты не сможешь дойти до конца коридора.

      – А теперь смотри ты, – спокойно произнёс Голос.

      Я остановилась у Окна в Мир. Пространство Света медленно снижало яркость. Я увидела город, машины и людей, какую-то станцию метро. Дождь. Незнакомая женщина пришла на свидание к любимому мужчине. Я видела, как они встретились… Астральные слёзы хлынули из глаз. Картинка поплыла. Голос смотрел на меня с печалью, хотя и не был видим мной. Безумное желание прожить любовь к Человеку, Которого Не Было, закружило меня по спирали и мгновенно утянуло в спящее физическое тело. Я буквально рухнула в него, проснулась и ужаснулась от безысходности: сбежать сегодня от кошмарного одиночества Туда – воплотиться завтра в очередном новорождённом.

      Побег в Иную Реальность терял всякий смысл.

      A Dream

      «You are urgently called to school,» my son muttered when I crossed the threshold of our flat, and instantly disappeared into his room.

      The teacher was no longer young and gave the impression of a fairly intelligent and kind woman. I could imagine anything of the possible reasons for the urgent call, except for what she said.

      «I don’t know what to do with your child, it’s a nightmare! He wants to be the first in everything! Is this really conceivable? He raises his hand without waiting for me to finish formulating the question. He is the first to hand over the tests and begs to go to the blackboard. Not to mention the fact that he is always inventing some games for children and wants to lead them somewhere!»

      I was ten or eleven years old when, during the winter holidays, my mother sent me to the largest and most famous in our Kingdom Christmas party, where parents were not allowed at that time. The central hall where the event took place accommodated an insane number of children of completely different ages. After the party, the children had to walk in a circle on the Square of the Three Cathedrals, which looked like a corral for horses and was fenced with iron partitions. Parents, standing behind the partitions in several rows, tried to get closer in order to find and have time to catch their kids out of a huge crowd of children wandering in that circle before they started another round.

      The game «Find Me!» was a real stress for both children and adults. Firstly, because winter was still real then, the snow creaked underfoot, thus, after standing in the cold waiting for the kids for quite a long time, parents could catch a cold. Secondly, at that time it was customary to wear «uniforms» there. So it was very difficult to find among the thousands of identical felt boots marching sadly in a circle those on which your kid had struggled to put on the rubbers in the morning. On the other hand, the game developed the sixth sense – just feel yours!

      My mother and I agreed that she would wave a scarf of the same color as the flag of our Kingdom at that times. However, it turned out that at least half of the Christmas party participants agreed on the same conventional sign. I felt sorry for my mother and decided to give her a gift – to go outside the first. I walked along the wide road to the magic circle, far apart from the main crowd. I don’t know how I managed that. I entered the circle and heard the joyful and excited exclamations of parents, «They are coming!» And I also heard them whispering, «God, who is so lucky? Whose child is this?» Then I saw my mother. She was smiling. Me too.

      After my mother’s death, I often found myself in an unpleasant dimension, in a tense space with «gummy» time, where an inexplicable vacuum of something was felt. You leave almost all your energy there and come back completely exhausted. I usually passed into the World of the Dead (or rather, of those stuck between Here and There for some reason), where various entities live, including gray-wax ghosts, through a huge screen similar to a mirror, in a dream. My mother got stuck There, and we took turns visiting each other, she came to me Here, then I went to her There. The boundaries of spaces (dimensions?) became thinner even in grandma’s old flat, and There turned out to be right Here. First, the Door to Another Reality opens slightly, then you physically feel another space flowing into your local one, and almost immediately you hear Its sounds and, less often, see It.

      Having adapted, I wasn’t afraid of drafts. However, due to the specific ability to take with me into Another Reality those nearby when the Door was opening, I was afraid for my son. I purposefully didn’t read him bedtime stories about Another Reality, tying him to the Earthly one. Once, when we were falling asleep and the Door creaked, I pretended that nothing was happening, but my son looked me in the eyes and asked in a whisper, «Have you heard that, mom? These sounds, what are they? Who is there? Tell me that you hear them too!»

      I went to the child to say goodnight.

      «Once I died, and then I was born,» the son suddenly said. «And then, when I die again and am born again, I will have a different mother.»

      «Not necessary. Souls can meet in subsequent lives, but they don’t always recognize each other in their new bodies.»

      «No, mom, we won’t meet again.»

      «Why?» I was surprised.

      «You will never be born again. I feel so. I know, they will let you stay There. And I began to see also a Man in Black. Who is he?»

      «How do you see him?» I tried to keep calm, because after my mother’s death I had often seen the Man in Black; all wrapped in black cloth, he looked like a monk and, standing at the window, silently looked at me.

      «He comes to me. Sometimes in a dream, and recently in the room, at the window. He always appears unexpectedly. I’m afraid of him. He’s all in black. Like monks. In some kind of cloth. I don’t know. I can’t see his eyes, but he looks at me in silence. I’m scared. Why does he come?»

      «Ask him who he is. The next time he comes. Don’t be afraid, just ask what he wants.»

      «It’s easy for you to say, you’ve never seen him! It’s more difficult in a dream. When I begin to understand that it’s a dream, I wake up.»

      I saw my son several years before his birth. I knew how he would look like on Earth. He was born an unusual child, preferred solitude and violently showed dissatisfaction when he was picked up or surrounded by calf tenderness. My son didn’t allow anyone to feed him with a spoon. His first word wasn’t «mom»