I'll find you anyway.

When I was a child, I had a friend, a cheerful, mischievous girl. When we were 12, she moved to Kyiv with her parents, and we never saw each other again.

And then, many years later, I found out she had returned to Moscow. We called and met. She looked great, looking for work. When I asked her why she was returning to the capital, she told me this story. And I wish I hadn't asked...

Her name is, let's say, Larisa. When she was 19, she had an affair. The guy was a young, handsome student. Naturally, poor, homeless. The love was passionate, there was even sex, really great, but... an older, richer man turned up, and she dumped the student. He began to suffer, cried, begged, called, waited at the entrance to her apartment at night, fell on his knees before her. But she didn't pay attention. She decided to marry the rich guy. 

The day before her bachelorette party, a student called Larisa and said he would be a permanent shadow over her marriage if she didn't change her mind. He committed suicide by hanging himself under her window on a children's swing on Larisa's wedding night. They buried him and cried. Over time, they began to forget.

Only every night before her menstrual cycle began, Larisa would see a familiar silhouette in the window. She was worried—fearful and cried. Her husband laughed and reassured her. As soon as Larisa became pregnant, the silhouette in the window disappeared. But he began coming to her bed! She would wake up to the unbearable smell of rotting flesh and see a misty silhouette slinking toward the window. She had a miscarriage, and then two more.

The rich man left Larisa after four years of marriage. Two months later, she learned she was pregnant again. Without telling anyone, she came to Moscow to visit relatives, hoping to carry the baby there. Every night she dreams of a student who turns everything in her room upside down, saying, "Where are you? I'll find you anyway!"

I thought my friend might be having some mental health issues, so we said goodbye, and I rushed home. I walked out of the building and waited for my husband to pick me up. It was dark and eerie outside. But then the headlights of our car lit up. Andryushenka, finally!!! I took a step toward the car... and suddenly a man appeared in front of me, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere. Short and very thin.

He asked if I knew which building apartment 222 was in. I automatically answered, "No!" and quickly got into the car with my beloved. And then I realized this stranger smelled terribly. Could he really be homeless?

But he was asking for Larisa's apartment!