Читать книгу Confession of a Ghost. F.M. Dostoevsky award. Playing Another Reality - Alexandra Kryuchkova - Страница 11

“Scared, Rukh?” the Guardian asked at the door of House No. 1.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s not the place to get really scared.”

I obediently opened the door, stepped inside and expected to see anything, but … I ended up on a fragile suspension bridge, swaying from a gale force wind over a raging sea! The wind longed to break the bridge and throw it into the abyss. The bridge led to an island surrounded by a high stone wall, behind which there was a Dark Tower, going straight into the sky.

“Where are we? What’s happening?” I shouted to the Guardian, and huge waves crashed down, clearly trying to drown us.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” the Guardian led me to the iron gates of the fortress, and they at once opened obediently, and behind them…

…it was so quiet, as if the raging sea didn’t exist! A stone-paved path led up to the Tower, where a few ghosts flashed in the windows. Butterflies fluttered over beautiful flower beds on either side of the path.

“How strange everything is here! Even the flowers,” I involuntarily burst out, “they are beautiful and sad. Why?”

“These are violets,” the Guardian sighed, and I noticed an old monk approaching us.

“Hello, Rukh,” said the monk, piercing me with a deep gaze. “Health and strength to your Angel. The sea is almost always restless here. A storm is about to break out. Come on, let’s warm ourselves by the fireplace.”

We entered the Dark Tower. A candle appeared in the monk’s hand. He lit it with the power of his mind, and we climbed a narrow spiral staircase up to the top floor to a tiny door decorated with a skull and the inscription “Memento Mori”.

The first thing that caught my eye in the cell room was the absence of a roof, the starry sky spread over us with the Moon floating across it. A bare stone floor. A small window without glass, but with bars. A wooden table by the window, with old books, a pen and an inkwell. A rocking chair by the fireplace with a cracked mirror above it. The walls were adorned with candlesticks and icons with Saints, each of whom smiled in response to my mental greeting.

“My name is Saturn. We are inside your Self, Rukh,” whispered the old monk, sitting down into an armchair by the fireplace blazed instantly.

“House No. 1 is self-consciousness,” the Guardian confirmed, “what kind of person you are inside, not outside, your ‘ego’.”

“Egoism and pride don’t threaten you,” Saturn chuckled. “House No. 1 turned out to be not a luxurious palace, not even a castle, but the Dark Tower on an island that occupies only 13 degrees out of 360 in the Circle, designed for 12 Spheres of Life. You’ll be lucky with the number ‘13’, since your first breath falls on the 13^th degree of Cancer, and ‘your Self’ Sphere has 13 degrees.”

“The door opens at the moment of the first breath,” the Guardian clarified, “House No. 1 is also called the House of Life, and its owner is the Master of Destiny, in your case it’s the Moon. Since the Moon is too far from here, Selene is a fictitious planet, Sirius is a star, so Saturn plays the dominant of Destiny role, having the maximum impact on your Consciousness.”

“Angel, don’t rush! Jumping up the Stairs is a thankless task, you may hurt yourself,” Saturn stopped the Guardian and materialized two chairs for us. “The island is located in the sea, in the Sign of Water, Cancer. You are an emotional and sensitive girl, subtly feeling the non-manifested and hidden, our Subtle World, or Another Reality for people. They say that such as you live without skin and have amazing intuition. We are talking about the Astral or Starry body – a super-sensitive soul, which is always in search for protection and care, a stone wall. One day you will build a high stone wall, shutting yourself off from people because of the acute mental pain they have caused, and your Dark Tower that goes into Heavens in order to communicate with our World, occasionally inviting the chosen ones, with whom you don’t need to be afraid of being wounded or killed.”

“Cancer means a delicate body and an impenetrable shell, right?”

“Yes, exactly. Children are comfortable with you. They feel the world as you do. But with adults… At the slightest threat of discomfort, you’ll withdraw hiding into yourself. Caution, shyness, fear of expressing emotions for fear appearing ridiculous, molded from a different dough. Amazing imagination, but innate self-doubt and fear of change. The task is to reveal the talents generously provided by Heaven, and, stepping on the throat of fears, to share with people the results of the soul’s creativity.”

“And my mother? Won’t she protect me?” I asked.

“Of course,” Saturn sighed, “for people like you, the support, approval, love and care of loved ones are important. There is a strong attachment to the well of the Past and mother. The well is hidden in the basement of the Tower. Diving into it, you’ll become a deep personality.”

“Will I have a big family?”

“The family is not to be mentioned here,” Saturn sighed again. “Anyway, you’ll strive to build a cozy nest in a quiet harbor in order to feel safe. When you acquire a shell, people will no longer understand who you are – the stony expression on your face will become your mask. Unlike most earthly women, you are unsociable and laconic, though you know to listen and hear, you have the ability to speak without words. Look for those with whom you can communicate as customary here. Your Selene tends to help people. You are inclined to self-sacrifice. A devoted, honest and faithful, but easily inspired soul, you are open to magical influences, primarily by husbands and / or business partners. You’ll be deceived and betrayed, however, it’s better to be betrayed by someone than to betray someone.”

“Will I live by the sea?”

“You’ll love and fear it at the same time, painting it from childhood, even before you have seen it with earthly eyes. What did you feel walking across the bridge?”

“Fear,” I agreed with Saturn.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled outside the window and rain poured down instantly.

“Uranus is naughty,” Saturn sighed. “Well, I’ve said enough about your Cancer essence, the Moon will tell you the rest.”

Ghosts began to appear from the cracked mirror, surrounding me and pulling me into …

Library of the Universe

“I don’t understand,” I confessed to the Guardian, as I took a seat in the Reading Hall, “why are there, in my Consciousness, ghosts appearing and the monk living, and the sign ‘Memento mori’ on the door to the cell? Saturn said nothing about himself, the Moon sailed over the Tower in the distance, and the sea wanted to drown me.”

“Not all at once, Rukh! The Stairs must be walked, not jumped. Listen attentively and absorb the information. It’ll be easier to remember on Earth.”

The book flatted open at page with “The Girl and the Sea” miniature.

“She used to sit for a long time by the Sea at sunset, the Girl in a pink dress. Lost in thoughts about something, she was gazing into the Sky. There was a Mysterious Land in the clouds, where winged people lived. Lilac castles beckoned her to them, in their quaint gardens fabulous flowers were fragrant and magical birds were singing. The wind carried unusual aromas and echoes of enchanting melodies to the Girl. And she also saw familiar faces there, they smiled and called the Girl to their Heavenly Country, to the City of the Sun. She dreamed of getting to them, but didn’t know how to do it, because she had no wings. The Sun was setting into the Sea. Warm waves caressed her legs, singing a quiet kind song that she had heard from her mother when she was still a baby. The Girl looked around, but there was no one on the shore, and she felt completely lonely. The gloomy Rocks didn’t understand her, because they couldn’t feel anything, however, that was the reason they would never die. The Rocks, as usual, were only watching silently the picture at sunset: the Girl and the Sea. The Sun was approaching the horizon. The waves were whispering louder and louder. The Magic Country floated away, losing its outlines. The Girl was standing by the Sea, and her tears fell onto the waves, and the Sea became salty… The seagulls that flew to the seashore in the evening didn’t find anyone there. The Sun sank behind the horizon, and the Night came. Somewhere far away in the Sky, the seagulls noticed the outlines of an unknown City. They wondered, what kind of City it was, being situated not on Earth, but in the Sky. They had never seen such cities before! And the two most curious seagulls decided to make a flight to the mysterious City, but they had not enough strength to reach it. And the Girl disappeared. The Rocks no longer saw her there, on the seashore, at sunset. Only the book left by the Girl on the coastal stone reminded them of her existence.”