Comb

After school, I firmly decided I needed a change in my life: I moved from my hometown to the city, enrolled in a correspondence course at university, and found a job as a secretary. I didn't have enough money to rent a separate apartment, but a dorm room was more than enough. The large number of neighbors didn't bother me at all, especially since almost all of them were quite reasonable.

There was a family living next door—Varvara (a woman in her forties), her elderly mother, and a school-age son. Varvara and her son were good neighbors. If I needed help, I always turned to them, and they were always there. I didn't know my grandmother at all. She was seriously ill and bedridden. They say she was in severe pain. Through the thin wall, her terrible, painful moans could be heard 24/7. It was especially terrifying to hear them at night...

The incident I'm about to tell you about has stuck in my memory for the rest of my life. It happened at night. I woke up and immediately noticed the unusual silence. No one was moaning in the next room, and that was odd. Had that poor old woman really managed to sleep peacefully?

The room was incredibly stuffy, and I wanted to open the window. I sat up in bed, finally opened my sleepy eyes, and was about to put my feet on the floor. But then I suddenly realized I wasn't alone in the room. A young girl was standing at my bedside. Despite the complete darkness in the room, I could see her perfectly well. Plain features, a long braid, unremarkable clothes of a grayish color...

"Uh... who are you?" I asked, trying unsuccessfully to recognize the guest as one of the neighbors.

The girl remained silent. I want to note that, despite the unusual situation, I wasn't at all afraid at that moment. The young woman didn't look like a spirit or an evil spirit. There was no ghostly light emanating from her, her eyes weren't glowing, and I didn't notice any fur or fangs... And yet—where did she come from? Who even invited her here?

Instead of explaining, the impudent woman extended her right hand toward me. In it, I noticed something. To be honest, I was a little alarmed—who knows?—but then I recognized it as... an ordinary comb.

"Why do I need this? Miss, perhaps you've come to the wrong door?"

But the young woman was clearly determined. She took a long step toward the headboard of my bed and thrust her "present" almost under my nose. Furious, I was about to take the wretched comb from her (just so she'd calm down and leave), but then something like an inner voice sounded in my head, clearly saying, "Don't take it!" I moved back and pressed myself against the wall.

And then my silent guest seemed to have changed. Her impassive face twisted into a scowl of rage. She shook like she was having a fit, and with a sudden movement, she threw the hairbrush onto the bed. I was starting to feel uneasy. What could I expect from this lunatic? What if she actually hurts me? Jumping to my feet, I rushed to the door. It was locked. Of course—I always lock it before bed. How come I hadn't thought of that before?

I turned around, ready for an attack. The room was empty. With a shaking hand, I fumbled for the switch on the wall and turned on the light. Yes, there really was no one there. I began searching the bed for the ill-fated hairbrush, but it wasn't there, not even under it. But it was there; I'd seen it fall on top of my blanket!

Naturally, any further peaceful sleep was out of the question. I sat with the light on, dreaming of the imminent arrival of morning. When it finally arrived, I unlocked the door and ran to Varvara. She opened it with tear-stained eyes. "Mom died last night," she said.

I couldn't sleep in my room for a week and had to stay with a friend. But after I returned there, nothing unexplained happened. I lived there for a little over a year, then moved in with my future husband. What happened that night, and whether it was connected to the death of my sick neighbor, I still have no idea. And what would have happened if I had taken the "gift" from my friend—God only knows...