We had a kindergarten next to our house, behind its backyard, beyond the fence, were the backyards of private houses. The fences were deaf and high. Between the kindergarten fence and those backyard fences was a small wooded area of huge poplar trees, through which a path ran. The place was gloomy and dark, and as a child we always tried to walk down this path as fast as possible... It was very uncomfortable there... Especially near one of the yards, where, according to our local children's tales, lived "grandma Kostylikha". Who really lived there, we did not specify, simply were afraid of this place and all. We did not specify until the time ...
Once in our large enough company we had a conversation about this house and someone knowledgeable said that the house is twenty years old and abandoned. Someone encouraged us to take a closer look and see what interesting things were there.
We all got together, went around the street, not to climb over the fence, and enter through the gate. The yard was overgrown with waist-high grass and a ramshackle house... The shutters and front door were open. It's a bright day outside, but it's still horribly awful. We went into the house, and there was a dusty bed, but the bed was made up, there were cutlery on the table, a saucepan on the stove, and a stopped clock on the wall... And the horror was incredible... We stayed there three minutes, no more. Someone shouted something, like "Grandmother, we are not afraid of you," and something else was kicked or overturned. We jumped out as quickly as possible, trying to preserve our dignity, and left at a very fast pace... Then we were under the impression all day.
A little closer to evening, two of us and a friend were walking, as always, in this kindergarten. It was time to go home. We had to go down this scary path, and it was scary there before, and on the background of the day's events, it was twice as scary. It was dark along this path even on a clear day, and very gloomy nearer in the evening... And so we are gradually approaching the fence of Kostylikha's house, and it is getting scarier and scarier... The added fear is that someone is clearly coming behind us... We cannot see who, but we can hear steps and soft conversations. We are stepping fast and come out to the fearful house and an old woman in a black mourning shawl is standing on the path and looking at us. Silently. We are dumbfounded and stand as if frozen. She raised her hand and beckons us with her finger... Well, our nerves gave out, and with a shriek we turned around and run back without even thinking. We jump out from behind a bush and... someone grabs us both and starts shaking us...
It was the most frightening moment of my life, I was screaming and kicking myself, closing my eyes... And only when they shook me very hard, I opened my eyes and... saw that two uniformed policemen were holding us both by the shoulders and trying to calm us down... They barely calmed us down. They asked us what happened, and we were so frightened we burst into tears that we were unable to say a word. We were only pointing our fingers at a terrible house and mumbling something unintelligible, smearing snot on our dirty cheeks... When we finally calmed down, the policemen calmed us down, saying that they would take us home. As proof of their good intentions they gave us each a plate of coffee gum, which at the time (1989) was a very cool gift.
It turned out that some vigilant neighbors, having seen a gang of kids sneaking onto the abandoned house, had called the police, and two young trainee policemen were sent to check the situation later that evening. We were asked if we had seen anyone suspicious near the house, and when we were told that there was no one but Kostylikha, they took us home.
Of course we will never know who that old woman was, but nothing could break our conviction that it was the mistress of the abandoned house, Kostylikha, in our children's minds. No one else in my memory did not get into that house, only quite often retold this terrible story to the kids, who added details from themselves and told the younger ones. So the house became notorious for many years and protected it from vandals. It's been thirty years, but I still remember and the hair on my arms begins to move.
You must be logged in to post a comment.