One day, many years ago, in my apartment, I heard a breath behind my back. So heavy, thin, like a tired person before sleeping. It didn’t happen because I was alone at home. I turned around and saw my cat, a little surprised, but in general, this version made me happy. Years went by, my cat got into the habit of making doomed breaths and I didn’t pay much attention to it. Sometimes the guests were surprised to hear this sound, and I immediately accepted to explain the reason for its origin. A few years ago the cat disappeared, but the sound did not disappear and now, this painfully familiar breath sounded really frightening. You’re trying to fall asleep, and in the darkness someone breathes sharply – chew one word and it’s somewhere in the house. Then there was an incident in my apartment. Between the bathroom and the toilet, a pipe with cold water leaked. They decided to change the pipes and the sanitary began to fold the partition to get the old pipes and replace them. The guys were with curved hands, and the sanitary was old and rusty, changing the water pipeline they broke through the roof and sewerage, had to change everything. To replace the pipes of the hot and cold stand, I had to strain the neighbors from below, then I first got to them home. While the sanitary engineer cut the cartridge on the stand, I stood in the corridor, clearly and loudly heard the same sound coming from the large room that was right underneath me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t overcome my desire to know what the hell is going on there. With a quiet step, I walked into the room. It was dark, the curtains closed, the air was dull and heavy. The eyes refused to get used to the darkness, and the lungs hardly accepted the excruciated breath. The room had an ordinary setting, a bed, a wall, a carpet, a pair of chairs and a TV. The bed was not covered and I tried to focus my sight to look at it more closely, as suddenly behind my back a frightening breath, nervously transitioning into a whisper from the sound of which I literally jumped in place. The room was illuminated by a bright flash of white daylight and I finally saw the source of that strange sound that has tormented me for years.



Every time a neighbor went to the lodge to smoke, he sharply shrugged the curtains and curtains, the gardens were old, Soviet with such crocodile sticks on the wire. The lie from them was the same sound that in our apartment sounded quite like the heavy, dull breath of a condemned person and we heard it every time the neighbor smoked or shut the windows before going to bed. And I have already started to believe in the drum, especially after that horrible story, when one of my acquaintances removed an apartment with the spirit of a dead grandmother in a box.