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"Deadly joke"
6 years ago
"Deadly joke"
(sorry for bad translation)
I put one interesting letter on this subject, wrote a man who himself sold his soul to the devil, today he is no longer alive. But the letter remains and this letter will warn many frivolous people looking for thrills -- from mortal danger. So.
"Dear Natalia I.! I write to you as in confession. Every single word of the letter is true. Maybe my case will serve as an example for others and thus they will not make the same mistake as I did.
I was 14 years old then. We were fooling around at my friend's. Played music, smoked, and Sasha wrote the announcement of the sale of cheap refrigerator at the request of his mother. Then we with it had to paste these announcements. Sasha asked me to help him write ads to get free faster. I started helping. I don't know why, but I probably wrote the following text for a laugh: "I Sell a sinless soul to the devil or change it for a million dollars". I thought it was fun, and I wrote three more of these ads. I showed them to my friends, they liked my idea, and they, laughing, wrote something in this spirit. One wrote that - changes the head, another - a leg, etc. When we went to glue announcements, and these too pasted - on columns, fences, houses.
The next day -- there was a terrible. Fell from a height and smashing the head-died Kostya, the one who wrote that -- turn my head. But at this point, we didn't compare it, didn't even think about it at all.
Then the next thing happened: the guy who wrote - about the leg, on the move jumping into the tram, broke, and he -- CUT off the leg. And again we about this – nothing not thought.
I also varied the rhythm of life. I stopped sleeping at night and went to sleep dead during the day. It's been a few days, it's like I got the day mixed up with the night. My parents scolded me, but I couldn't help myself. I slept on the Desk with my head in my hands. The teachers decided that it was a shock after the death of a friend and a terrible story that happened to another classmate.
On one of these days I was shaken up by a teacher and told me to go home to sleep. She spoke calmly and I was grateful to her. I really couldn't understand what was happening to me. It was like I was rebuilding and not recognizing myself. When I got home, I opened the door with a key and entered the apartment. Standing a little in the kitchen, thinking, eat or go to bed immediately. Lunch did not want to warm up. My parents weren't home. When I entered my room, I was dumbfounded, but made no sound.
In the middle of the room stood a man -- dressed in black. He was wearing a black Cape. Wavy hair fell to his shoulders. His appearance can not be described just like that. I still won't be able to convey some incomprehensible significance of the stranger emanating from him – Strength, fear and authority. It was in the look, the shape of the eyebrows, the lips.…
I had no idea that it was a thief or one of his, left in the house after the departure of parents. I perceived it as a real unreality.
-- How much is your soul worth? - he asked me in a voice that gave me the creeps. The sound was like metal scraping on metal in a hard frost.
-- What? -- I asked. In his hand -- I saw your ad. I wanted to say it was a joke, but my lips -- they wouldn't obey me.
-"Well," said the black man, " you shall have it." Million dollar.
I felt dizzy and involuntarily closed my eyes. And opening, saw, that in room no one there is no. Then I lay down and fell asleep. I woke up because my mother looked in the door and said, ' You're sleeping again.' It's just some kind of punishment. Get up, or I'll tell my father. I sat on the bed and thought. No, I decided, it just can't be, it's just a nightmare. When I got up, I went to the table to start doing my homework, and suddenly I saw my announcement on the table. The hope that it was a dream fell apart like a house of cards.
I called one of the guys we used to write those stupid ads with that ill-fated day. Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, Andrew was at home. I asked him if he remembered what we wrote in those ads. He was surprised by my question and asked why I remembered it. Without explaining the reason, I began to ask that he remembered supposedly it is very necessary to me. Apparently, my voice alerted him, and he said,:
- I think Lech wrote that kind of change-of-foot for sneakers. Why?
-- Andrew, and sneakers he had bought? - I asked.
-- Yes, his mother bought him. Why? -- And stopped. He must have understood some connection between what happened.
-- And you, what have written? - I asked him.
-- I wrote that I change my life for five in mathematics
Then I said to him: -- Andrew, think that something is happening after the day we wrote the announcement of the exchange of their souls. Lech bought shoes, and the next day he had his leg cut off by a tram. Kostya died after receiving a head injury, but he is in the ad offered to give head. You may not believe it, but I saw someone today. Come, I'll tell you something. -"I got an a in math today." I'll come running to you now, ' said Andrew and hung up.
But he did not come, he was found the next day - dead in an abandoned wasteland.
When I found out, I was hysterical. I was in the hospital being treated for a nervous breakdown. My doctor, a psychiatrist, forbade me to think about ads. He said it was a coincidence. He said I would never get out of the crisis if I kept thinking about it. I was treated with hypnosis, suggestion. Besides, time heals well too. I began to forget that inexplicable nightmare.
Past year. I learned. Fate was kind to me. And generous. I became President of the Bank. I have a wife, a son and a lot of money. And I wrote this letter because a week ago I saw from the window of my car - that black man in the crowd. He waved and pointed at my watch. I couldn't be mistaken.
I would know him among a thousand people. Besides, the day after tomorrow will be twelve years after all this happened. His gesture with the clock was very expressive, I took it as a warning. I have a million dollars, so it's time to pay the bills.
You will receive this letter if I am gone, but in my heart I fervently hope that all will be well. If anything, pray for my soul sold to the devil for a million dollars."
This letter has been received. It was taped and enclosed in a large envelope, and there was a note from the man's wife: "My husband was shot with a machine gun. I found this letter. On it was written: send in case of death to You. Please do not specify our name."
http://www.logoslovo.ru/forum/all/topic_7919_8/
(sorry for bad translation)
I put one interesting letter on this subject, wrote a man who himself sold his soul to the devil, today he is no longer alive. But the letter remains and this letter will warn many frivolous people looking for thrills -- from mortal danger. So.
"Dear Natalia I.! I write to you as in confession. Every single word of the letter is true. Maybe my case will serve as an example for others and thus they will not make the same mistake as I did.
I was 14 years old then. We were fooling around at my friend's. Played music, smoked, and Sasha wrote the announcement of the sale of cheap refrigerator at the request of his mother. Then we with it had to paste these announcements. Sasha asked me to help him write ads to get free faster. I started helping. I don't know why, but I probably wrote the following text for a laugh: "I Sell a sinless soul to the devil or change it for a million dollars". I thought it was fun, and I wrote three more of these ads. I showed them to my friends, they liked my idea, and they, laughing, wrote something in this spirit. One wrote that - changes the head, another - a leg, etc. When we went to glue announcements, and these too pasted - on columns, fences, houses.
The next day -- there was a terrible. Fell from a height and smashing the head-died Kostya, the one who wrote that -- turn my head. But at this point, we didn't compare it, didn't even think about it at all.
Then the next thing happened: the guy who wrote - about the leg, on the move jumping into the tram, broke, and he -- CUT off the leg. And again we about this – nothing not thought.
I also varied the rhythm of life. I stopped sleeping at night and went to sleep dead during the day. It's been a few days, it's like I got the day mixed up with the night. My parents scolded me, but I couldn't help myself. I slept on the Desk with my head in my hands. The teachers decided that it was a shock after the death of a friend and a terrible story that happened to another classmate.
On one of these days I was shaken up by a teacher and told me to go home to sleep. She spoke calmly and I was grateful to her. I really couldn't understand what was happening to me. It was like I was rebuilding and not recognizing myself. When I got home, I opened the door with a key and entered the apartment. Standing a little in the kitchen, thinking, eat or go to bed immediately. Lunch did not want to warm up. My parents weren't home. When I entered my room, I was dumbfounded, but made no sound.
In the middle of the room stood a man -- dressed in black. He was wearing a black Cape. Wavy hair fell to his shoulders. His appearance can not be described just like that. I still won't be able to convey some incomprehensible significance of the stranger emanating from him – Strength, fear and authority. It was in the look, the shape of the eyebrows, the lips.…
I had no idea that it was a thief or one of his, left in the house after the departure of parents. I perceived it as a real unreality.
-- How much is your soul worth? - he asked me in a voice that gave me the creeps. The sound was like metal scraping on metal in a hard frost.
-- What? -- I asked. In his hand -- I saw your ad. I wanted to say it was a joke, but my lips -- they wouldn't obey me.
-"Well," said the black man, " you shall have it." Million dollar.
I felt dizzy and involuntarily closed my eyes. And opening, saw, that in room no one there is no. Then I lay down and fell asleep. I woke up because my mother looked in the door and said, ' You're sleeping again.' It's just some kind of punishment. Get up, or I'll tell my father. I sat on the bed and thought. No, I decided, it just can't be, it's just a nightmare. When I got up, I went to the table to start doing my homework, and suddenly I saw my announcement on the table. The hope that it was a dream fell apart like a house of cards.
I called one of the guys we used to write those stupid ads with that ill-fated day. Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, Andrew was at home. I asked him if he remembered what we wrote in those ads. He was surprised by my question and asked why I remembered it. Without explaining the reason, I began to ask that he remembered supposedly it is very necessary to me. Apparently, my voice alerted him, and he said,:
- I think Lech wrote that kind of change-of-foot for sneakers. Why?
-- Andrew, and sneakers he had bought? - I asked.
-- Yes, his mother bought him. Why? -- And stopped. He must have understood some connection between what happened.
-- And you, what have written? - I asked him.
-- I wrote that I change my life for five in mathematics
Then I said to him: -- Andrew, think that something is happening after the day we wrote the announcement of the exchange of their souls. Lech bought shoes, and the next day he had his leg cut off by a tram. Kostya died after receiving a head injury, but he is in the ad offered to give head. You may not believe it, but I saw someone today. Come, I'll tell you something. -"I got an a in math today." I'll come running to you now, ' said Andrew and hung up.
But he did not come, he was found the next day - dead in an abandoned wasteland.
When I found out, I was hysterical. I was in the hospital being treated for a nervous breakdown. My doctor, a psychiatrist, forbade me to think about ads. He said it was a coincidence. He said I would never get out of the crisis if I kept thinking about it. I was treated with hypnosis, suggestion. Besides, time heals well too. I began to forget that inexplicable nightmare.
Past year. I learned. Fate was kind to me. And generous. I became President of the Bank. I have a wife, a son and a lot of money. And I wrote this letter because a week ago I saw from the window of my car - that black man in the crowd. He waved and pointed at my watch. I couldn't be mistaken.
I would know him among a thousand people. Besides, the day after tomorrow will be twelve years after all this happened. His gesture with the clock was very expressive, I took it as a warning. I have a million dollars, so it's time to pay the bills.
You will receive this letter if I am gone, but in my heart I fervently hope that all will be well. If anything, pray for my soul sold to the devil for a million dollars."
This letter has been received. It was taped and enclosed in a large envelope, and there was a note from the man's wife: "My husband was shot with a machine gun. I found this letter. On it was written: send in case of death to You. Please do not specify our name."
http://www.logoslovo.ru/forum/all/topic_7919_8/
