Страница 3 из 34
For several more months I had to avoid dark and empty places, for the escort after this event did not go away, but only intensified; a couple of times I have seen these individuals under the windows of their own home. I had the honor to see through all the details through binoculars, as they tried to get into my house through the fire escape, crouching with her a couple of times with rather amusing screams, and crushing their bodies with a metal roof over the porch of the office of one firm; it was amusing to see how these people tried to have Molotov cocktail before the fourth floor, it was interesting to watch also other similar pranks. Three times I was shot at the crossbow, and all three times it happened on the Filevskaya floodplain or in the park. When I climbed in winter on the famous ravines of Kuntsevsky Park, I suddenly heard a strange whistle, but at first I did not attach any importance to it, later the whistle was repeated several times, and then I saw an arrow stuck in the snow. After examining the neighborhood, I saw two people standing on the slope of the ravine in a position so convenient for shooting that it could hardly be a coincidence: this instant was right, for I immediately received a few more «arrows of happiness» from my observers.
Another time I went to the Filyovskaya embankment under -30, enjoying its deserted nature, and then decided to get on the ice of the Moskva-river [Here we must remember that the Russian Moscow never call Moscow and say only «Moskva»; the Moskva-river is a broad river, which flows through the city.], which I should not have done, although not because of its subtlety. Since just behind the embankment there are bushes and trees, then the shooting position was no less convenient, for I could not even see the shooters who had taken cover in the snow-covered bushes, being completely vulnerable to them, since in the open space of ice to discover my red jacket and to coat in me would not be a good arrow of labor. My enemies, my goodness, were bad arrowheads who could not get into me while I managed to hide behind a summer pool of plastic that was thrown by the shore, which saved me, perhaps, life. The third time they shot me at the Filevskaya floodplain with one of the hills, while I was moving along the path; there was this where a very narrow path, wagging along the river, just rises first, and then abruptly descends. From the shooters to me was no more than thirty meters, and I could not snatch it to the sides, for on one side of me there was a precipice to the river, and on the other, an almost steep hill. I, however, noticed the enemy a second before the shooting began, and so I managed to retreat back into the blind zone for them, although a dozen arrows had managed to release me. In March-April 2015, any surveillance and that sort of action went down gradually to zero, although the harassment inside the institution «legal» methods continued. As for the nature of all those «attempts»that the young guys have committed, their nature and essence will be explained in the book below, giving you a motivation for thoughtful reading. In the summer of 2015, I finished one of the versions of the book, postponing its publication at the best of times, and later, in the autumn of the same year, I left the institution described in the book.
Only now, after a time when I learned more about the work of some in-school and out-of-school organizations, when I overestimated many events, received more reliable information about them, got rid of u
Chapter first.
Prehistory.
At the close of 2013 from the birth of Christ, I left my previous school with a huge scale of scandal involving the accusation of my class teacher in the excessive consumption of alcohol in the workplace on my part, as well as the subsequent sanctions on this side. That very class teacher, A