Ариана Баженова – Intertwined Fates (страница 4)

…I reluctantly woke up, feeling the rays of the pale Petersburg sun on me. I lazily opened my eyes, looked at the gray walls of a completely unfamiliar apartment, turned on my side on an unusually hard sofa. And only a few moments later, almost falling asleep again, I abruptly opened my eyes and finally woke up. I realized that now I finally live in the northern capital. Ahead was a whole long summer day to explore a new city that I had only heard about before.

***

I jumped up briskly, had a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs with black coffee, and, having fished a light linen sarafan out of the depths of my unpacked suitcase, began to get ready. Household chores could wait – first I wanted to take a walk in the heart of the city – on Nevsky Prospect. I wanted to believe that we would become friends with this city.

The heat in St. Petersburg was special – the sun’s rays penetrated the air saturated with eternal moisture, creating a real bathhouse on the streets. I got out of the metro, squeezed through the crowd, and looked around.

Here is the heart of St. Petersburg! In front of me towered the exquisite Singer building with a ligature of metal lace on the roof, crowned with a bizarre ball. And as soon as I turned my head and glanced along the Griboyedov Canal, all sorts of statues and ornaments on the facades of brightly colored houses spread out before me in all their beauty. Finally, my gaze stopped on the richly decorated Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, huddled in the cramped space between the wall of the house covered with construction mesh and the high fence of the shady park.

I took out my phone, aimed the camera and took a photo – it turned out slightly blurry due to my pleasant excitement. «Beauty! People from all over the world come to see this city, it is depicted on all the postcards,» I thought, pressing the photo button.

But suddenly a shadow of doubt flashed in my heart. «Stop! It is so beautiful! Why do these landscapes not evoke emotions in me?»

Memories of how I walked along the bright and noisy avenues of Moscow and looked in enchantment at the tall glass skyscrapers flashed before my eyes, and my soul responded with a surge of strength. But how is this possible? After all, I wanted to move to St. Petersburg so much! And now I feel nothing?

– I thought that we would become friends. I wanted to come here so much. But I feel a little uncomfortable, – I shrugged my shoulders in confusion, mentally addressing the city.

And it was as if I heard a response from gloomy Petersburg in my head:

– I’m not your friend. But I have something to teach you.

I shook my head slightly, driving away the obsession.

I was fired up by the idea of moving to Petersburg back in childhood, when my friend Katya and I and other kids from school went here for a week on an excursion. Accustomed to a small town, we were enchanted, as if in a dream, floating along the narrow streets of Petersburg, and the city seemed endless. Then, succumbing to the ardor of youth and the intoxicating feeling that life was just beginning and before us was an endless sea of opportunities, we decided to go to study in Petersburg after school. Time passed, youthful promises remained in the past – and now I am standing here, but no longer surrounded by friends, but alone. I ran under the awning of a summer veranda of one of the cafes, sat down at a table, ordered a glass of apricot cocktail with ice and looked around. In such weather, exploring the city from the shade turned out to be a good decision.

– Kira, are you in St. Petersburg yet? How was your flight? Can you send me a photo? – a message from Katya (she preferred to call herself Kate), a childhood friend, a capricious hurricane of energy and emotions, appeared on the screen.

Back then, at school, we wanted to go to St. Petersburg together. And now she lived in Moscow, having moved there a couple of months before me, and we supported each other during this difficult period of adaptation. I knew that Kate and I would always be each other’s support, no matter what happened.

I sent her a few photos from the canal embankment and put the phone away, immersed in my thoughts.

«Will I find peace here?» flashed through my mind.

In Novosibirsk, at one point in my life, I felt anxiety to the fullest. Of course, for many, ghosts and other mysticism were just interesting stories to tickle the nerves, but I was closely connected to the world of supernatural sensations. The apogee was living in the same apartment with a ghost. An area on the outskirts of the city, famous for its crime, an old hostel, completely permeated with the smell of garbage, with cockroaches running around the entrance – and in it my small dark studio, which I rented for pennies.

It’s a pity that I ignored the casual phrase of the landlady: «For some reason, no one stays here for long.» And after a couple of weeks, I already understood why. Four months later, when long scratches appeared on the walls, and the next night my fiancé and I had small cuts on our stomachs in the same places, I realized that it was time to move out urgently. A hastily made and inept ritual of cleaning the premises did not help either – it only angered the spirit, which drove away all the residents, as I was told by a characteristic knock on the walls, a flashing shadow that knocked a napkin off the table, and short-circuited lamps. At that moment, the blood froze in my veins, and I, freezing for a moment, immediately grabbed my suitcase and flew out of the house like a bullet, sitting at the station for three hours waiting for the train.

Returning from my parents in a small town not far from Novosibirsk, I immediately informed the owner of the apartment that I was moving out, and never came near that damned area again. A little later, I learned from a neighbor that someone had hanged themselves or been killed in that apartment a long time ago. «This is a one in a million case, you were just unlucky with the apartment,» my loved ones reassured me, and I promised myself that from now on I would only live in new buildings – just in case. This would reduce the risk, because asking the owners directly if anyone had been killed in their apartment would obviously be strange.

But the time had come to turn the page of life. What could await me in gloomy Petersburg?

For some reason, an image of fire appeared before my inner eye – a guiding torch that illuminates everything around, a cleansing element, transforming, burning the old so that something new can be born in its place.

– What do you want to teach me? – I mentally threw the question into the air, addressing it to the bright walls with columns.

– I am a place where the past meets the present, and where people discover the impossible in themselves. I know you have it too, – I heard the answer in my head again, shook my head and began to hurriedly drink a cold cocktail. …and yet, I’m in St. Petersburg! Having looked again at the photo of the postcard-like landscape, I uploaded it to my psychology blog, which I’ve been running for five years now. It doesn’t really matter what I think about this city now and where I really want to be. Let my subscribers, parents, and close friends be happy for me. And even my ex-fiancé, who still follows my news on the blog after the breakup.

Thinking about him, I smiled sadly. I believed that we could overcome everything together – and I suggested that we move to a bigger city together, but he refused, deciding that he couldn’t leave his parents, and in Novosibirsk, according to him, he had his own interests and ambitions. He was a gentle person, but he remained adamant in his decision, despite my persuasion and arguments. Rose-colored dreams and rainbow pictures of family life, a shared cozy apartment where it was always warm and the sound of little feet could be heard, ice skating with the whole family were shattered by this short: «We are not on the same path.» It was not easy for both of us to make a decision.

I could have stayed with him, but between my personal life and my career, I chose the latter. Perhaps, the fact that between work in a big city and my family I chose the former put a careerist stamp on me in the eyes of others, but in fact I still believed in pure and sincere love… Maybe it was somewhere here, in St. Petersburg? When I remembered today’s dream, goosebumps ran down my back, and a strange warm feeling ached in my solar plexus – a desire to talk to the people from the dream again as soon as possible, as if I was sure that they really existed.

Coming out of the shade of the veranda, I went out to the bridge, decorated with statues of gilded winged lions. And she thought, admiring them.

There were never any problems with work: intelligence, hard work and common sense helped me quickly gain authority wherever I went. Alas, the qualities that ensure success in a career do not help at all, and often even hinder in my personal life. Attracting, igniting passion and tenderness, building deep mutual understanding and trust – the habit of working hard, firmly defending my position did not help in any way. But this habit allowed me not to hide behind other people’s shoulders, but to boldly move through life, fulfilling all my desires myself. «And love? The right person will not go anywhere, we will meet at the right time in the right place and get to know each other, no options,» I summed up my thoughts, eternally moving in a circle and leading to the same conclusion. All that remained was to be in the right place at the right time. Something told me that this would happen at work. On my first working day, I put on my dress white blouse and long black skirt and set off briskly. I got off the bus at the nearest stop and walked along a tight row of old gray buildings, using the navigator as my guide.