This happened in the winter, in the stagnant Brezhnev times. I was 10-11 years old. I was a small man, weighed 25 kilograms in a winter coat and shoes. The skeleton. There were countless incredible trials in our courtyard that we had invented for ourselves. Of course, they were on the verge of life and death. Here is one of them. You had to jump between the stairs in the unbuilt hotel, on the last, seventh floor. The distance between the stairs, about four meters and the difference in height, about two meters. From the upper floor, to the lower floor. There was no roof yet, the venues were covered with snow and ice. The fear was added by the fact that the flight, between the stairs, went to the basement with frozen water, only 22-25 meters. And here someone from the courtyard boys shouted, “Come to the building to jump!” I’ve never jumped there, but you can’t retreat, you’ll hear a coward. They came and went to the last floor. I stand on the edge of the venue - the grey sky above, the black abyss below. One boy jumped. He flew to the site, fell, like a protein, plachma on the stomach. I walked to the wall, not much. I stand, pressed to the wall, the stomach is not good, but you have to jump.



Here they are, foolish, boy’s games, “to the weak.” If I find out that my son is riding on the roof of an electric car, or climbing on a highway, I will kill with my hand. In anger, in emotions, but alone. I gave birth, I and... It’s better than I’ll be told about the stupid death of my son, an unknown uncle – a police officer.



Four steps to advance. and jumped. He hit the chest at the end of the square. Taking hands for nothing, it slipped. I fall down my head. I put my hands forward and I fall. Seven floors passed quickly.



It is necessary to put a candle in the church, for the health of the person who leaned to the wall of the corridor of the basement board, long, five or six meters. Smooth, not scratched, with a covered board. How useful it was. He froze into the water, hardened. The board came from the basement, above the floor of the first floor. Here she saved me. He intuitively shrugged his legs when he felt it. He broke down the trousers, pants and of course the skin. The children helped to get out of the basement and out into the street. The right pants are completely removed. I stand naked, there is no blood, but everything is swollen and burning. He ran home, lay down and lay down on the floor, in the corridor. Waiting for parents. My father came first. Silently he divided me, removed my pants and cowards, and laid me on the bed in the same jacket. I covered my legs with a clean towel. Then my mother ran. I screamed, mocked, ripped my hair on my head, pulled my ears. He remained silent, did not give up, said he fell from the garage. The ambulance arrived, looked at, touched, moved, pulled the slides, treated the skin and left. If they knew where I fell from, they would have taken me to the hospital with a flash. Then the cow. I didn't go to school for two weeks, and the courtyard boys were respected. My mom took my vacation, fed me and cried. She mocked and condemned, “Whatever from this construction, one cottage remains!” She didn’t know that last spring I drowned in this cottage.