After I saw Zhenya T. being detained, they let me go. I wandered around the neighborhood for a long time, trying to process what had happened. In the evening, I entered Lyosha’s building, went up to his floor, and rang his doorbell. Lyosha came out, and we stayed on the landing. After a while, his neighbor, a police officer, came out of his apartment to smoke. I told him that Zhenya T. had been arrested. He responded calmly, “Well, that’s it then,” and went back home after finishing his cigarette.
I stayed and talked with Lyosha. We chatted, smoked, and discussed various topics for another couple of hours. As midnight approached, I decided it was time to go home. After saying goodbye to Lyosha, I went down to the first floor and unexpectedly ran into Vasya. He was clearly angry and unhappy that Zhenya T. had been arrested.
Vasya was very determined. In a threatening tone, he asked, “Who was it, Lyosha? Did Lyosha point Zhenya out to you? I’ll deal with Lyosha too, that idiot. I’ll break every bone in his body.” Vasya started saying that I had crossed every line and that I was finished. He threatened to destroy me. Grabbing me, Vasya dragged me out of the building and onto the street. I tried to run away, but he quickly caught up with me, pinned me face-down against the asphalt, and held me there, refusing to let me get up. He ordered me not to even think about escaping, or things would only get worse. After that, we got up, and Vasya continued threatening me.
On the way, Vasya put marijuana in my pocket and ordered me to go with him to the local Ministry of Internal Affairs office, where I was supposed to confess to possessing it. He threatened that I would be sent to prison. I was overwhelmed by panic. Vasya also threatened to kill my brother by drowning him in the bathtub and continued leading me to the police. That was when strange things began happening to me. We were walking along Kustanayskaya Street toward Shipilovskaya Street when voices suddenly began speaking in my head: “There will be a way out, there will be a way out. Wait for our signal.”
It was already after midnight. Vasya kept threatening me, saying that I had “pushed my luck too far” and was now finished. Ahead, at the end of the street, I noticed a brightly lit 24-hour store on the other side of the road. At that moment, the voices in my head changed: “Run! This is your chance!” I broke free from Vasya’s grip, ran across the road, and threw the marijuana somewhere into the darkness, toward some bushes. Then I ran into the store. Vasya rushed after me, but once inside, he saw the other people there, slowed down, and stopped acting aggressively.
Taking advantage of the moment, I slipped out through another exit and disappeared into the courtyards. Vasya lost sight of me. I did not know what to do. I was afraid to go home because I was sure Vasya would look for me there. I hoped he would not harm my brother: to enter our building, he would have to get through the intercom-controlled door, and Vasya did not have a key. Still completely at a loss, I wandered around the neighborhood until I finally fell asleep under a tree.
When I woke up in the morning, I was seized by panic. In desperation, I began messaging Nadya and telling her how frightened I was: Zhenya T. had stolen my laptop, I had reported him to the police, he had been arrested, and now Vasya was taking revenge on me. I was completely at a loss and did not know whom to turn to for help. At the time, I did not yet know how Nadya had interpreted my messages. Only later did I learn that she had seen the situation differently and regarded me as one of the participants in a street feud. To her, it was a conflict among drug users that she wanted nothing to do with. In her eyes, I was not a victim but an active participant in these criminal affairs and perhaps was getting what I deserved.
When I began sending her messages saying that I was being threatened and was in danger, Nadya apparently perceived them as a potential threat to herself. As I later learned, she asked a friend for advice, and on that friend’s recommendation, the police began monitoring me.
After some time, I decided that I needed to go to work. Without going home first, I headed straight there. When I arrived, I told my colleagues about my problems and that local thugs were pursuing me. They responded to my request for help and suggested that I rent an apartment closer to work, in Tushino, to reduce the risks. The idea seemed like an excellent solution: a new neighborhood, a new life. One of my colleagues, Zhenya D., offered to contact a realtor he knew who could quickly find a suitable place. My colleagues understood the seriousness of the situation and advised me not to delay the search.
During the day, I called Slava A. and told him what was happening. Toward the end of the workday, he came to my workplace, and together we went to my home. I asked him to stay with me that night in case Vasya or Zhenya T. showed up again. The next day at work, I learned that my colleague had already found an apartment for me. Without delay, I went to see it. It was a small but cozy two-room apartment in an old five-story building, perfectly suited to my brother and me. It was only a fifteen-minute tram ride from the office, near Skhodnenskaya metro station. I liked it and signed the lease immediately. I spent that night in the new apartment, then returned the following day to get my brother and complete the move. My apartment in Zyablikovo was now empty, and my new life in Tushino had begun.
