Literature      01.10.2020

The new world is greeted by clothes. “The new world meets by clothes” Anastasia Akulova. The new world meets by clothes


Fate is like piano keys
And though their sequence is long,
Mixed joy with sadness
And sadness with fun sometimes.

You were kind to me
Protected from trouble
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean frets.

And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.

Fate, be kind, as before!
But, skipping the note G,
And ignoring hope
You press the black G-flat.

And how sometimes you are not cunning,
To get around you,
You miss the white key
And again you press on sol-sharp.

At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But rarely gets white,
Increasingly black sounds.

Zeev Ariri

The new world meets by clothes

Chapter 1

Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess ... In general, it appeared in all its glory. October is now in the middle. A dreary, for me, month. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in autumn. Probably partly because I can't stand this time of year.

My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most miserable person in the world. At least on this moment. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that at the same time I broke the heel on my new boots, stained the white coat that I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through continuous puddles to the hostel, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. I didn't even buy an umbrella. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I belong to those very samples of state employees who have a mouse hanged not only in the refrigerator, but also in their wallet.

Unexpectedly deftly maneuvering to avoid collision with cars or passers-by, I rush to the hostel with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over the ruined boot and once again convince myself that while I am an excellent state student at such a prestigious faculty , as a legal one, one might think that everything is not so bad.

The entrance was greeted with the usual smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.

Three of my neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata turned around, hearing a quiet slam of the door, greeted each other and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.

- Why are you so happy? - As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.

They looked at each other silently, as if deliberating whether I should speak.

“Well, you know, the end of October is coming soon,” Vika reminded, blowing a strand of dyed coal-black hair that had fallen out of her forehead, matching the color of the same eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.

“Is this supposed to tell me something?” - My friends seem to have unanimously considered me a redneck.

“Actually, yes,” Ksenia nodded, a white-skinned, well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. - The thirty-first of October is Halloween.

I finally pulled off those stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.

- And what? - she snorted, - Who in Russia celebrates this holiday?

Nata, brown-haired blue eyes and a truly Russian scythe below the waist, pouted, pouting her lips offendedly, a la "I told you."

“I knew that you would grumble,” Ksenia smiled mirthlessly.

“Kat, don’t be a bore,” Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, “It’s fun!” My parents are leaving for a short time with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks!

“They’ll give me a salary soon, so we’ll buy food, too,” Nata assented.

“And we’ll invite the boys,” Ksenia joined the general choir.

All three stared at me pleadingly, evoking the analogy of Shrek's cat. Against these murderous arguments, my anti-wasteness collapsed after a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and a freebie?

- Well, since such a booze has gone ...

* * *

“They don’t just leave this world - they take with them a particle of the meaning of your life ...”

Mikhail Mamchich


Arriving at the hostel in the evening after classes, I felt completely overwhelmed. Still, only less than two months have passed since the beginning of classes, I have not yet lost the habit of school. Yes, and that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade, could not but leave a trace. Probably, until the end of my life I will not forget the panic that I pursued day and night before the exam. Even me, an excellent student.

In fact, I'm still a lazy person. If the situation in my life was better in terms of money, I would have studied with a calm soul for fours or threes. But ... there is always some kind of "but" that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors.

First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from behind a turn, it lost control ... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I picked up the phone - a naive first grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father's death, simply broke me. Destroyed.

We were a wonderful family. Not rich, but very loving, well-coordinated, like a single organism. We were all incredibly important to each other. Therefore, my world at that moment simply collapsed, I ceased to be myself, became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words "pain" and "loss" did not exist.

Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for much, but before my father’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we could not count on much. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile in front of me and, looking affectionately through her hair, say that everything was fine, but her smile trembled, and her words felt bitter and false.

I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself all, without a trace. I was silent, reconciled and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for doing for me. She believed that I would be able to achieve a lot and not know such hardships, she was proud of me and put all her strength into it. I just had no right to make mistakes, misses. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for three months, and at school I received only fives. Kinda robot. But still, it was easier there ... but even now I still have no right to make a mistake. Because budget place at the full-time law faculty at the most prestigious university in my city, I had to gnaw it out, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.

At school I had no friends, I did not trust anyone. Friends - in bulk. I knew how to smile, properly care for my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, impartiality among teachers is extremely rare. Personally, I have never met him. To achieve the location of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net - every day, coming home and listening to the praises of an extremely tired mother, I felt obliged to be impeccable, although I tried to present it as my personal whim - to be the best.

She was “one of her own” for many, every day she made many new acquaintances. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone, the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried out all the tears at my dad's funeral and dried up like a withered flower.

Graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything is the same as everyone else, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a girlfriend whom I could call a real one - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That feeling when you realize - this is your person. You are easy with him. It was easy for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.

Vika and I entered the same university, the same faculty, settled in the same room. At what all this was just a coincidence, oddly enough. But both of us were only glad of this fact - it's easier that way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so alone that you want to howl.

So far, I felt like a branch in a stormy sea. I was carried in different directions, I lost my firm confidence in the correctness of all my undertakings. And for a scrupulous, almost pedantic person like me, this is scary. And at the same time… unusual.

Girlfriends, much more firmly on their feet, tried in every possible way to cheer me up, while not obscenely discussing the reasons for my insecurity. In general, they tactfully tried to bring me back to life. For this I value them.

But today they were overly excited. Ignoring my tiredness, they chattered incessantly about tomorrow's Halloween, until my sleepy brain finally reached ...

Damn... it's fucking Halloween tomorrow... And what should I wear for him?

Anastasia Akulova

New world meets by clothes

Fate is like piano keys
And though their sequence is long,
Mixed joy with sadness
And sadness with fun sometimes.

You were kind to me
Protected from trouble
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean frets.

And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.

Fate, be kind, as before!
But, skipping the note G,
And ignoring hope
You press the black G-flat.

And how sometimes you are not cunning,
To get around you,
You miss the white key
And again you press on sol-sharp.

At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But rarely gets white,
Increasingly black sounds.

Zeev Ariri

The new world meets by clothes

Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess ... In general, it appeared in all its glory. October is now in the middle. A dreary, for me, month. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in autumn. Probably partly because I can't stand this time of year.

My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most miserable person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that at the same time I broke the heel on my new boots, stained the white coat that I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through continuous puddles to the hostel, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. I didn't even buy an umbrella. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I belong to those very samples of state employees who have a mouse hanged not only in the refrigerator, but also in their wallet.

Unexpectedly deftly maneuvering to avoid collision with cars or passers-by, I rush to the hostel with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over the ruined boot and once again convince myself that while I am an excellent state student at such a prestigious faculty , as a legal one, one might think that everything is not so bad.

The entrance was greeted with the usual smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.

Three of my neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata turned around, hearing a quiet slam of the door, greeted each other and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.

- Why are you so happy? - As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.

They looked at each other silently, as if deliberating whether I should speak.

“Well, you know, the end of October is coming soon,” Vika reminded, blowing a strand of dyed coal-black hair that had fallen out of her forehead, matching the color of the same eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.

“Is this supposed to tell me something?” - My friends seem to have unanimously considered me a redneck.

“Actually, yes,” Ksenia nodded, a white-skinned, well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. - The thirty-first of October is Halloween.

I finally pulled off those stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.

- And what? - she snorted, - Who in Russia celebrates this holiday?

Nata, a brown-haired woman with blue eyes and a truly Russian braid below the waist, pouted, pouting her lips in an offended manner, a la “I told you so.”

“I knew that you would grumble,” Ksenia smiled mirthlessly.

“Kat, don’t be a bore,” Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, “It’s fun!” My parents are leaving for a short time with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks!

“They’ll give me a salary soon, so we’ll buy food, too,” Nata assented.

“And we’ll invite the boys,” Ksenia joined the general choir.

All three stared at me pleadingly, evoking the analogy of Shrek's cat. Against these murderous arguments, my anti-wasteness collapsed after a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and a freebie?

- Well, since such a booze has gone ...

“They don’t just leave this world - they take with them a particle of the meaning of your life ...”

Mikhail Mamchich

Arriving at the hostel in the evening after classes, I felt completely overwhelmed. Still, only less than two months have passed since the beginning of classes, I have not yet lost the habit of school. Yes, and that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade, could not but leave a trace. Probably, until the end of my life I will not forget the panic that I pursued day and night before the exam. Even me, an excellent student.

In fact, I'm still a lazy person. If the situation in my life was better in terms of money, I would have studied with a calm soul for fours or threes. But ... there is always some kind of "but" that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors.

First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from behind a turn, it lost control ... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I picked up the phone - a naive first grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father's death, simply broke me. Destroyed.

We were a wonderful family. Not rich, but very loving, well-coordinated, like a single organism. We were all incredibly important to each other. Therefore, my world at that moment simply collapsed, I ceased to be myself, became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words "pain" and "loss" did not exist.

Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for much, but before my father’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we could not count on much. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile in front of me and, looking affectionately through her hair, say that everything was fine, but her smile trembled, and her words felt bitter and false.

I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself all, without a trace. I was silent, reconciled and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for doing for me. She believed that I would be able to achieve a lot and not know such hardships, she was proud of me and put all her strength into it. I just had no right to make mistakes, misses. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for three months, and at school I received only fives. Kinda robot. But still, it was easier there ... but even now I still have no right to make a mistake. Because I had to gnaw out a budget place at the full-time law faculty in the most prestigious university in my city, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.

At school I had no friends, I did not trust anyone. Friends - in bulk. I knew how to smile, properly care for my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, impartiality among teachers is extremely rare. Personally, I have never met him. To achieve the location of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net - every day, coming home and listening to the praises of an extremely tired mother, I felt obliged to be impeccable, although I tried to present it as my personal whim - to be the best.

She was “one of her own” for many, every day she made many new acquaintances. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone, the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried out all the tears at my dad's funeral and dried up like a withered flower.

Graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything is the same as everyone else, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a girlfriend whom I could call a real one - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That feeling when you realize - this is your person. You are easy with him. It was easy for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.

Vika and I entered the same university, the same faculty, settled in the same room. At what all this was just a coincidence, oddly enough. But both of us were only glad of this fact - it's easier that way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so alone that you want to howl.

The new world meets by clothes Anastasia Akulova

(No ratings yet)

Title: The new world meets by clothes

About the book "The New World Meets by Clothes" Anastasia Akulova

At higher powers also have a sense of humor, and they also sometimes get bored. But here you just have to take the rap ordinary people like the heroes of the novel by Anastasia Akulova "The New World meets by clothes."

Katya Sokolova has always had a lot of problems. The girl was left without a father early, and her mother had to save on everything. I had no friends at school, although I tried to be polite and friendly with everyone. Few people trusted. But failures rained down on Katya like from a cornucopia: either the heel would break, or it would get wet in the rain. Even the fact that Katya is an excellent student at the most prestigious law faculty is not very encouraging when a mouse hangs herself in the refrigerator and there are holes in her wallet.

To entertain a friend, Katya's dorm roommates and buddies decide to have a Halloween party. They are even ready to give Katya one of last year's costumes so that she does not spend money on outfits. But an insanely fun party gives way to a morning hangover ... in a completely unfamiliar forest. And the heroines of Anastasia Akulova themselves have also changed. The girls turned into those whose outfits they wore at the party. Someone became a witch, someone a demoness, someone a woman-snake, covered with scales, but Katya became an ordinary cat, devoid of the power of speech. In addition, the heroines of the novel "The New World Meets by Clothes" are most likely already in another world where other laws apply. So they will have to not only return to their usual appearance, but also somehow return home.

Fantasy "The New World Meets by Clothes" is a very light and well-written novel. Heroines have to learn new abilities and opportunities. There is no way without a sense of humor, so there are enough comical situations and jokes in the novel. There are no detective intrigues and a complex plot. The heroine, who is unlucky in life, finds herself in another world where she is even more unlucky, but after losing everything (for example, her body), she only becomes stronger. Anastasia Akulova does not miss the love line either. At first, Katya is so busy that there is simply no place for romance in her life. But the first love is added to the magical adventures in the fantasy world. How can superpowers help a girl cope with routine problems? And how to find true love if you don't know where on all fours and in complete despair?

On our site about books lifeinbooks.net you can download and read for free online book"The New World Meets by Clothes" Anastasia Akulova in epub, fb2, txt, rtf formats. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and a real pleasure to read. Buy full version you can have our partner. Also, here you will find last news from literary world, find out the biography of your favorite authors. For novice writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you can try your hand at writing.


Fate is like piano keys
And though their sequence is long,
Mixed joy with sadness
And sadness with fun sometimes.

You were kind to me
Protected from trouble
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean frets.

And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.

Fate, be kind, as before!
But, skipping the note G,
And ignoring hope
You press the black G-flat.

And how sometimes you are not cunning,
To get around you,
You miss the white key
And again you press on sol-sharp.

At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But rarely gets white,
Increasingly black sounds.

Zeev Ariri

The new world meets by clothes

Chapter 1

Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess ... In general, it appeared in all its glory. October is now in the middle. A dreary, for me, month. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in autumn. Probably partly because I can't stand this time of year.

My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most miserable person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that at the same time I broke the heel on my new boots, stained the white coat that I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through continuous puddles to the hostel, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. I didn't even buy an umbrella. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I belong to those very samples of state employees who have a mouse hanged not only in the refrigerator, but also in their wallet.

Unexpectedly deftly maneuvering to avoid collision with cars or passers-by, I rush to the hostel with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over the ruined boot and once again convince myself that while I am an excellent state student at such a prestigious faculty , as a legal one, one might think that everything is not so bad.

The entrance was greeted with the usual smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.

Three of my neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata turned around, hearing a quiet slam of the door, greeted each other and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.

- Why are you so happy? - As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.

They looked at each other silently, as if deliberating whether I should speak.

“Well, you know, the end of October is coming soon,” Vika reminded, blowing a strand of dyed coal-black hair that had fallen out of her forehead, matching the color of the same eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.

- It owes me something

...

Here is an excerpt from the book.
Only part of the text is open for free reading (restriction of the copyright holder). If you liked the book, the full text can be obtained from our partner's website.

"Halloween in Russian - I warn you! Today is Halloween =), it's dangerous to go outside ... they will give you a pumpkin, and even insert a candle!"

Poem for the book:

Fate is like piano keys
And though their sequence is long,
Mixed joy with sadness
And sadness with fun sometimes.

You were kind to me
Protected from trouble
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean frets.

And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.

Fate, be kind, as before!
But, skipping the note G,
And ignoring hope
You press the black G-flat.

And how sometimes you are not cunning,
To get around you,
You miss the white key
And again you press on sol-sharp.

At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But rarely gets white,
Increasingly black sounds.

The new world meets by clothes.

Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning even the completely paved streets of our big noisy city into a mess of mud ... In general, it appeared in all its glory. October is now in the middle. Gray and dreary, for me so, a month. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in autumn. Probably partly because I can't stand this time of year.

My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most miserable person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that at the same time I broke the heel on my new boots, stained the white coat that I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through continuous puddles to the hostel, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. After all, I didn’t even buy an umbrella for myself, I was greedy. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I belong to those very samples of state employees who have a mouse hanged not only in the refrigerator, but also in their wallet.

Unexpectedly deftly maneuvering to avoid collision with cars or passers-by, I rush to the hostel with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over the ruined boot and once again convince myself that while I am an excellent state student at such a prestigious faculty , as a legal one, one might think that everything is not so bad.

The entrance was greeted with the usual smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to my room with the girls next door, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.

Three of my neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Natasha (we call her Nata) simultaneously turned around when they heard a quiet slam of the door, greeted each other and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.

Why so happy? - As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this flagrant injustice.

They looked at each other silently, as if deliberating whether I should speak.

Well, you know, the end of October is coming soon, - Vika reminded, blowing a strand of dyed coal-black hair that had fallen out of her forehead, matching the color of the same eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced. She even deigned to break away from applying nail polish, which means that something very serious happened.

Should this tell me something? I arched an eyebrow.

My friends seem to unanimously consider me a redneck.

Actually, yes, - Ksenia nodded - a white-skinned well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. - The thirty-first of October is Halloween.

I finally pulled off those stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.

And what? - she snorted, - Who in Russia celebrates this holiday?

Nata, a brown-haired woman with blue eyes and a truly Russian braid below the waist, pouted, pouting her lips in an offended manner, a la “I told you so.”

I knew that you would grumble, - Ksenia smiled sadly.

Kat, don't be a bore, - Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, - It's fun! My parents are leaving for a short time with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks! This is a chance that happens ... once in a lifetime!

They’ll give me a salary soon, so we’ll buy food too, Nata assented.

And we will invite the boys, - Ksenia joined the general choir, smiling ingratiatingly.

At the same time, all three stared at me pleadingly, evoking an analogy with Shrek's cat. Against these murderous arguments, my anti-wasteness collapsed after a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and a freebie?

Well, since such a booze has gone ...

“They do not just leave this world - they take with them a particle of the meaning of your life ...” Mikhail Mamchich.

Arriving at the hostel in the evening after classes, I felt completely overwhelmed. Still, only less than two months have passed since the beginning of classes, I have not yet lost the habit of school. Yes, and that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade, could not but leave a trace. Probably, until the end of my life I will not forget the panic that I pursued day and night before the exam. Even me, an excellent student, I generally keep quiet about those who studied worse.

In fact, I'm still a lazy person. If the situation in my life was better in terms of money, I would have studied with a calm soul for fours or threes. But ... there is always some kind of "but" that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors:

First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from behind a turn, it lost control ... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I picked up the phone - a naive first grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father's death, simply broke me. For a minute. Destroyed.

We were a wonderful family. Not rich but very loving friend friend, harmonious as a single organism. We were incredibly important to each other, an integral part of life, future, life, happiness. Therefore, my world at that moment simply collapsed, I ceased to be myself, became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words "pain", "death" and "loss" did not exist.

Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for much, but before my father’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we could not count on much, and the salary was constantly “jumping”. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile with me and, looking affectionately through her hair, say that everything was fine, but at the same time her smile trembled, and bitterness and falseness were felt in her words.

I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself all, without a trace. I was silent, reconciled and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for doing for me. She is sure that I will be able to achieve a lot in life and not know such hardships, she was always proud of me and put all her strength into it. I just had no right to make mistakes, misses. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for three months, and at school I received only fives. Kinda robot. But still, it was easier there ... however, even now I still have no right to make a mistake. Because I had to gnaw out a budget place at the full-time law faculty in the most prestigious university in my city, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.

At school I had no friends, I did not trust anyone. Friends - in bulk. I knew how to smile, properly care for my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself beautifully in society in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, the impartiality of the same teachers is an extremely rare phenomenon. Personally, I have never met him. To achieve the location of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net: every day, coming home and listening to the praises of an extremely tired mother, I felt obliged to be impeccable, although I tried to present it to her as my personal whim - to be the best.

For many, she was "their own" in the company, making many new acquaintances every day. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone, the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried out all the tears at the funeral of my dad and dried up, no longer hoping for anything and irretrievably losing such a natural faith in miracles for children.

Graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything is the same as everyone else, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a girlfriend whom I could call a real one - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That feeling when you realize - this is your person. You are easy with him. It was easy for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.

Vika and I entered the same university, settled in the same room. And all this was just a coincidence, oddly enough. But both of us were only glad of this fact - it's easier that way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so alone that you want to howl.

So far, I felt like a branch in a stormy sea. I was carried in different directions, I lost my firm confidence in the correctness of all my undertakings. And for a scrupulous, almost pedantic person like me, this is scary. And at the same time… unusual.

My friends, who were much more firmly on their feet, tried in every possible way to cheer me up, while not obscenely discussing the reasons for my insecurity in conversations. In general, they tactfully tried to bring me back to life. For this I value them.

But today they were overly excited. Ignoring my tiredness, they chattered incessantly about tomorrow's Halloween, until my sleepy brain finally reached ...
Damn... it's fucking Halloween tomorrow... And what should I wear for him?

The eternal female question ... But oh well. Maybe at least a little distraction from the dull autumn everyday life that haunts me.

No. No. And no! - I said categorically, staring in horror at the box that was kindly placed at my feet, - No way, you hear!

Then I have no complaints, - Vika shrugged her shoulders, - Of course, I understand that you are tight with finances, but either you take this old suit of mine, or you buy it yourself.

As if I'm asking you for money, - I pouted offendedly, feeling like a beggar.

Yes, I would have bought you myself, but you are proud of us, - Vika grinned, trying on pretty horns.

Reluctantly acknowledging the persuasiveness of her words, I once again stared suspiciously at the box in front of me. However, the sight of black leather leggings sitting on me, what is called a “second skin”, a patent batillon of the same color with a fifteen-centimeter hairpin and lacing, a tight-fitting black turtleneck with a very immodest neckline, fluffy black ears with clips and a tail made of artificial wool still caused me horror. To this was added black gloves with artificial claws on the fingers. Although the tail for some reason confused me more. But the attempt is not torture.

It's evening soon. Let's try on ... - I suggested doomedly, to which the girls squealed with satisfaction and fled with their boxes.

Then a whole epic called "Katya is trying to get into his pants" began. No, I'm not fat, rather, average, but I'm very far from Vika with her aspen waist. So all the time while I was pulling on these leggings, I managed to announce in detail to the whole wide world when, to whom, where and how many times I would have time to shove them if they did not fit. And when the miracle happened, I, resembling a tousled sparrow swimming in a dirty puddle, felt like a conqueror of new peaks. The turtleneck was stretched uncommonly better, the batillions too, although I have no idea how I will move on such stilts.

Then, after drying my hair, still a little wet after a shower, I decided to collect it in a high ponytail. Medium length, naughty, thick and curly, like a lion's mane - I sometimes had a hard time coping with them in the morning, but I did not want to cut it shorter yet. I've always liked the color of the hair - fickle, like me. Sometimes they were light blond, sometimes honey red, depending on the lighting, but more often they were a pleasant straw shade. My eyes are ordinary, honey-brown, even yellowish, like a wolf's, but I like it. Unusual, no matter what anyone says... Well, I think so.

Other than that, I don't like much about my appearance. Average height, average figure, chest of the third size, clear pale skin, straight Greek nose, small but full lips, neat eyebrows. I'm not a cover beauty, but I try to take care of myself for already known reasons. However, for some reason, beautiful makeup always gave me special pleasure. The lightest layer of powder, neat thin arrows on the eyes, to the best of mascara, eyeliner for expressiveness, slightly lined eyebrows, cat whiskers drawn with eyeliner, and bright lipstick. For a long time I did not make up so brightly, but ... walk like that! Cute long earrings with a large beautiful stone completed a rather extravagant look. All right, I'm ready.

Looking into the box, she pulled on thin gloves with artificial claws. The tail did not even try to attach it - not to stuff it into shorts to hold on. Yes, and what for, he is generally needed, they are still tormented with him.

Yawning, I stood up, trying my hand at being a ballerina (with those creepy heels…) and looked around. The girls had dressed for a long time, evaluating their own reflection in the mirror, then each other. Everyone wants to be the best, despite the fact that girlfriends.

Vika, as I already knew, was in the form of a demoness. Her outfit turned out to be more frank, in my opinion, than my own: leggings are also leather and the same color, batillos are also similar, only red and not patent, but instead of a turtleneck - a leather top with red T-shirt sleeves. She twisted her hair and loosened it - it went down below her shoulder blades in a silky, shiny black cascade. By the way, I am madly jealous of her hair. The makeup is the same as mine, only with a layer of foundation that emphasizes the contrast of her even pale skin and shining black eyes. To top it off, a dainty black bracelet and earrings that gleam in the light, as well as fake black fallen angel wings somehow attached to her back.

Ksyuha, our blonde with a neat fashionable bob, surprised me with a very high-quality red wig, almost indistinguishable from real hair. In principle, there is nothing unusual in this, such parties are often worn to such parties, but the fact is that she, a natural redhead, hated her hair color since her most stormy romance ended with the advent of a rival dyed in this color. She has a peculiar quirk on this basis: all redheads are certainly bastards and bitches. But she looked no worse than Vicki. She, freckled and green-eyed, madly went this fiery color. She dug up an amazing floor-length dress somewhere, brightly of blue color shimmering in the light in several shades. Her hair is also loose, in a specially created artistic mess, which looked very harmonious and suited the image. Expensive earrings with real large sapphires, which she was so proud of, and beautiful expressive makeup completed the look. She really looked like a witch.

Well, Nata ... she, to be honest, also surprised. A long, emerald-colored skirt with a scale-like ornament covered her legs almost completely, parting only at the very end to give at least some opportunity to move around. The top looked like a cross between a very short top and a bra, like those worn for oriental dances - it made her small breasts visually larger. Suit in emerald tones with silver weaves. Obviously, Nata wanted to create the image of a mermaid, but personally to me she looked more like a snake from the coat of arms of Slytherin from Harry Potter. Probably because of the chosen colors and the cunning squint of almost turquoise eyes. But, admittedly, she looked very good, like Vika, she has something to show: unlike Ksenia and me, they were actively involved in sports, although they did not overdo it.

Looking around at the girls, I realized that my outfit was not at all as perverted as it seemed at the beginning, and calmed down on this score.

Stuffing the suit boxes and cosmetics back into the closet, we took another look at the apartment. Everything was ready: cleaned, lots of food, alcohol, nice decor and stuff like that. We decided to invite a few people, the friendliest and nicest guys from our acquaintances. Those idea was supported with a bang.

Soon all the invitees were assembled, and we turned up the music louder, by some miracle having managed to agree in advance on this matter with the neighbors. Let the fun begin!..

Chapter 2

“- This year you must behave well. If I get an owl again with the news that you've done something - blow up the toilet or...

Did they blow up the toilet? one wondered. - We've never blown up toilets.
- Can we try? the second chuckled. "Great idea, thanks Mom." Joanne Rowling. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

Somewhere…

Listen, why are you doing this? – Tired boomed bass male voice.

Boring. – Artlessly responded sonorous female voice. “You said yourself that mortals are funny toys. I love them, but to fool around a little ...

Oh, okay, - he waved it indifferently, - You will do it your own way anyway.

You are right as always, dear brother, - a satisfied smile was felt in her voice.

Well, who will you throw into what world? Demiurge asked without enthusiasm.

Nobody canceled the poke method yet, - she grinned, - It seems that people in the closed world have a holiday today, when for some reason everyone changes into other races.

And…?” the demiurge did not quite understand his sister.

Well, let them blame themselves for the choice of race, - she giggled, anticipating a funny prank. - Let's see in peace.

All was good. Not even that, everything was EXCELLENT. Wow, we haven't been this far in a long time. A decent evening after an hour and a half turned into anarchy and bacchanalia. By the end of the evening, the gorilla yelled obscene songs in karaoke, Dracula grunted in an embrace with a bottle of champagne, the fairy danced on the table, waving a magic wand. The demoness, tobish Vika, already ardently confessed her love to some blonde angel, and he, it seems, was no longer against their illegal union. A mixture of a little mermaid and a reptile was already dozing in a corner, I was nearby laughing out loud over some jokes, our red-haired witch ran around the apartment “sitting” on a new broom and yelling ditties of a grandmother-hedgehog. At some point, from the alcohol I had drunk, I began to fall asleep, although I drank the least. It was my first drink in my life, and ... Mom, dad, forgive me, but I liked it!

I think that was my last thought before I fell asleep as a baby with my face in the salad.

“Life is a funny thing, and you never know where a brick will fall on your head ...” Alexey Pekhov. Mockingbird.

I can't stand it when I wake up on weekends with the sun in my eyes! And so I turned, and so on, but the annoying rays seemed to decide to pursue me. We pulled the light-blocking curtains...

Desperately, I try to open my eyes. Oh damn, how my head hurts! .. As if a truck drove over it. Why all of a sudden, you ask?

Either the ringing in my head was strong, or the silence was dead, but I did not hear a single extraneous sound. The sleepy brain tried to give me at least some information about yesterday.

Ah, yes… Halloween. I can be congratulated on the first booze in my life. A baptism of fire, so to speak. But a hangover in the morning does not give newcomers a discount. Alas and ah.

When the nasty ringing in my ears finally began to subside, I was able to move my arm (oh, a miracle! I already thought that all the limbs were numb). My body ached, as if I had slept all night not on a soft warm bed, but on some cobblestone. I tried to open my eyes and move - the first time it didn’t work out very well. Gradually returned sensations, touch, and ... damn it, something was clearly wrong!

I tried to get up. I tried in vain ... because I immediately sat back down.

My body, or no longer mine, COVERED WOOL! Moreover, it has also decreased several times, and in general, in terms of structure, it resembled the body of an ordinary ... cat?!

“What the f*** am I?!” - I wanted to be outraged loudly and fairly, but instead it turned out to be a plaintive cat's meow.

I was seized with real horror. Honestly, it has never been so scary. What is this? Dream? Who's joke? What?!

My paws buckled and I fell dead on the grass. Stop…grass?!

Jumping up like a cat that has eaten valerian, I looked around the place where I found myself with a dull, half-mad look.

A beautiful, peaceful forest, not polluted by civilization, full of aromas of countless wildflowers, resembling a single organism, where each cell lives its own life. Well, it's just heaven. But now this little touched my stunned consciousness. The only fact that the brain could still fix was that I was not alone here.

The girls: Nata, Vika and Ksenia - were lying nearby in a chaotic manner. I recognized them immediately, because the faces are the same. That's just…

Seeing the new details with sharp cat's eyesight, I went nuts even more, although it seemed impossible. Still not believing my eyes, staggering, I approached my friend, who was sleeping closest to me - to Nata. The same familiar face, messy brown hair, even the top of the suit is the same. But ... One such small, very small "but" ...

Instead of legs, she flaunted a long snake tail.

No x * I myself! - I forgot all the normal words, and no one would understand my meow anyway.

Is Nata now… uh… naked?!

Yeah, well, nah….

“M-dya, and this is said by the one who woke up in the body of a cat” - at the time it was nervous to laugh.

Swallowing, I decided incredulously to touch this huge nagini tail with my paws, making sure that it was real. I even tried to bite. But this idea turned out to be unsuccessful ... because the tail with me clinging to it lifted and strongly threw it somewhere far away. Landing head first on a tree is not the most pleasant thing in the world. Verified by experience.

Having wildly barked at the whole neighborhood, I still didn’t pass out again. And even looked at the other girls, though not daring to touch them anymore.

Vika was lying somewhere under a tree resembling an aspen, her neck arched almost unnaturally, still in the same black leggings and red batillons. The rest was not allowed to be seen by powerful, huge black wings - much larger than those from the suit. And they seemed just obscenely real.

Ksenia was also lying nearby. Her red, and real, hair was simply amazing with its long, healthy and beautiful shade. The violent whirlwinds were a bit like a lion's mane wrapped around her fragile body. She was still wearing the same blue dress, and damn it, she hasn't changed in the rest of the world!!!

Where the fuck is the justice?!

It's time to finish with mats, otherwise I'll soon merge with gopota. But in this situation, I have neither words, nor decent barks.

...for about fifteen minutes I tried to wake these drunkards. I already managed to get scared that they were killed, because for some time they did not react at all to my scratches-bites-ora. Even the insidious thought slipped through to use them as a cat tray, so that they deigned to pay attention to me, but the skin turned out to be more expensive than the thirst for revenge. And finally, my efforts paid off...

Continued here (from the second part to the end chapter by chapter): https://zelluloza.ru/books/2488/#book