Press Secretary of Alexei Navalny Kira Yarmi wrote a novel-"Incredible incidents in the women's cell No. 3"

"Medusa" publishes a fragment of this book

The publishing house Corpus is published by the novel of the press secretary of Alexei Navalny Kira Yarmys “Incredible incidents in the female chamber No. 3”. The main character Anya finds herself in a special -reception - and lives there with several women who got there in administrative affairs. Anya was put in a special -reception for 10 days for repost reports of the anti -corruption rally. During this time, women living in the cell tell each other about themselves and open in a new way. The yard herself was twice in a special receiver (she was arrested for five and 25 days). According to her, this book is artistic, but in it "there is also what she saw herself." Medusa publishes a fragment of the second chapter, in which Anya is looking for scissors from a cellmate and watches how another neighbor washes the floor.

Anya sharply woke up from the door clang and did not immediately understand where she was. Her gaze rested on a low painted ceiling.

“We are going to breakfast,” said the female voice.

Drezmic fog in Anina’s head immediately scattered. She was in the chamber of the Moscow specialist and looked at the flower mattress lying on the upper tier of her bed.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. I did not want to get up at all. Nearby, someone jumped off the bunk and immediately grumbled with displeasure. Anya thought that this was probably Natasha - only she could be so gloomy in the morning. Water rustled, the toilet door creaked, then someone burst out and hissed: "Irka, fool, again I did not let me sleep all night." Exactly, Natasha. Anya even smiled at the fact that she guessed, and immediately heard Ira an apology. As soon as she pronounced the first word, the memories of last night returned to Ana at once.

She nearly jumped on the bed and felt how everything was once cold inside. Opening her eyes, she looked around the camera through her eyelashes. Natasha stood in the middle of the room, with a business look, tieing her hair in a tail, sleepy Ira sat on her bed and clumsily fastened the buttons on a jeans shirt. She looked completely usually, so much so that with one look at her, Anin was absurd. Anya tried to find at least a hint, at least an echo of that demonic being that she had measured, but she did not see anything threatening. She tried to recall what happened after she screamed, but could not. It was as if she simply turned off immediately - between her nightmare and a sharp awakening, it ran several hours of deaf cotton oblivion. Anya thought that she would have to amuse everyone with her screams, but in the morning darkness the camera looked so peaceful that it could not believe that a commotion could happen here at night. If no one heard her, did she dream of all this from beginning to end?

The door to the camera swung open.

“Let's go for breakfast,” said yesterday's police boy. - And grab the garbage.

Natasha approached Ana - she immediately closed her eyes, pretending to be sleeping.

-Do you get for breakfast? - Natasha whispered, but she did not receive an answer.

Anya heard that she was crumbling near the bed for several seconds, and then she went away. The package rustled, Natasha said: “Take a bottle, fool!”, And he and Ira finally left the camera.

When their voices in the corridor fell silent, Anya took a deep breath several times. It was required to calm down, cleanse and think. There was one way to make sure, or not to her or not - it was necessary to search Irina a bed. Huge scissors to hide in the cell were problematic. It was much more problematic, and even rather impossible, it was necessary to carry them here - in the emerging morning light, thoughts acquired uncompromising clarity. Nevertheless, Anya sat on the bed and looked around. Everyone was sleeping, she heard her cellmates breathe evenly. Stone of fear of being caught, but driven by fear of living in a room with an armed crazy woman, Anya crept up to Irina's bed. I felt the pillow, looked under it - nothing. I raised and carefully shocked the blanket - nothing too. Under the sheet-salpet, it was so impossible to hide even a coin. It remained to look under the mattress. Anya stood on all fours and, dodging, looked under the bed. Through the grid of the frame it was clear that there was nothing here either.

- What are you doing there? - the amazed voice came from above. Having shouted, Anya sharply straightened up and hit her head on the iron crossbar. Holding on to the back of the head, she crawled out from under the bed and saw Maya. She tore her head from the pillow and watched her with her eyes out.

“It seemed to me that someone rustled here,” Anya blurted out.

- Who?!

- Well, Rat ...

- Kryyyyaaa? !!

- It only seemed to me!

- And you decided to check?!

“Nuuu ...” Anya said uncertainly. Her position was rapidly becoming more ridiculous.

- And what?

- It seems not.

- What a nightmare! - Maya gasped and even sat on the bed. - We need to urgently say about it. Let them poison now. Let them transfer to another place. Let them let go! I will not stay in the room where rats live!

- Yes, I haven't seen her ...

“But you heard her!” What else could rustle there? Maybe a mouse?

- Well, maybe the mouse ...

- What is the difference, rat or mouse? This is unacceptable! I will complain! I will not stay here for a second!

- What are you yelling? - Katya barked from the upper bed.

- Anya saw a rat here! - Maya cried out and convincingly poked a finger at Anya.

- What other rat?

- Yes, calm down, it seemed to me! - Anya prayed. - The rustling just fed, and I decided to check. But I saw nothing!

- Why did you even climb to check?

A good question, Anya thought gloomily, but, fortunately, Maya again surrendered:

- And if she was there and ran away? We have already seen a cockroach here, maybe there are rats? Or mice? Maybe this is still a mouse?

- Maya, don't spin! - Having grimaced, Katya ordered. Maya immediately fell silent and looked at her in fright. “You have already told you a hundred times that there was nothing there.” Give me sleep.

- What if it was? The Maya whispered tragically.

“It was not, it wasn’t,” Anya repeated, finally getting up from the floor. The back of the head was still buzzing.

She returned to her bed and listened to how Maya fit for a long time, smacking a blanket under herself so that not a single rat get. Anya felt vague anxiety. She, of course, did not find scissors, but Ira could carry them with her. Under her denim armor it was possible to hide a machine gun. Anya sighed. You can’t follow Paranoi, she said to herself, it was just a dream. Nevertheless, the irrational fear flared up in her the brighter, the more she tried to calm herself.

Natasha and Ira quickly returned from breakfast. Anya secretly watched them, but Ira still looked more common. They climbed each on their own tier, while Natasha continued to swear in a whisper, and Ira - inadvertently she answered. Pretty soon it became quiet, and a few minutes later, with Irina, a quiet snoring came. It was difficult to imagine a snoring monster.

She lay and listened through the open window, as a broom rushes on the street somewhere on the street. Again, the thought came that a special receiver is a very strange place. Strange and useless: all punishment comes down to rest in strict conditions. You can sleep as much as you want, mess around all day, read, talk, you are driving a walk and eat, and all this supposedly should fix you.

Time passed, and the building began to come to life: steps and voices sounded more often in the corridor, the doors clapped loudly, someone dragged something under the windows. They looked into the camera every now and then, and Anya was terribly annoyed - she felt like a laboratory mouse behind the glass, which they constantly stare at. Finally, the noise woke up her neighbors. Katya was the first to slide out of bed. Gottling and cleaning her hair in the tail, she headed to the washbasin. Unlike Natasha and Ira, who were gathering for breakfast, she was not afraid to wake anyone - she turned on a strong pressure of the water, splashed noisily, then, dropping soap from the sink, swore loudly. The rest of the Anins of the neighbor also fascinated and woke up.

Anya waited for her to ask her why she screamed so at night, but no one asked. But again they discussed Irka, who turned and did not allow to sleep lying on the upper tier Natasha. It would be strange, listening to the cellmates, Anya thought if this topic for conversation seemed to them more fascinating than her night hysteria. Maybe she really dreamed of this?

When everyone finally woke up and sat down to drink tea, the door to the camera swung open. Four police officers came in - three women and one man. Anya had not seen any of them before, but she immediately liked these cops much less yesterday. The muzzles of three of them were completely stone, and only one girl looked so frightened that she looked more like a prisoner than a jerk.

The entered were lined up in a semicircle, and one of the women came forward. She was short and all kind of rounded-a seasoned shirt emphasized a chubby stomach, trousers sat on it like on a drum, her hair curled up rings. At the same time, her facial features were very small and gathered in the very center-a nos-button, eyes-shifts, lips like a thread. However, the most strange was the expression of this face. It seemed missing, as if inanimate. Anya thought that even if she tried to portray this in front of the mirror, she would hardly have succeeded.

The woman opened the magazine that was holding in her hands, and coughed. Anins of a neighbor as a command stood up. Only she and Maya remained to sit.

- Get up! - the woman told them. She also had no intonations.

Maya rose very slowly and fucked up beautifully on the bed. Anya remained to sit, looking at the rest in bewilderment.

- Get up! - repeated the woman.

“Why?” Anya asked with sincere surprise.

- Because according to the charter, prisoners should get up. Stathe up to whom they say!

Anya was so taken aback that she obeyed. The words themselves and the tone that they were uttered seemed striking - the woman raised her voice, but there was no anger or impatience in him. It seemed that it was not a living person who shouted it, but simply a volume wheel on the radio was twisted too much.

“Surnames,” the woman ordered, looking at the open magazine.

- Vilkova!

- Orlova!

- Leonov!

- Ivanova!

“Andersen,” Maya said languidly.

Anya was silent, continuing to watch what was happening with dumb amazement.

- Surnames! - again the woman repeated louder than usual.

“Yes, Romanova is my last name,” Anya muttered displeasedly. - Are you in your magazine, do you see?

Without awarding her by the answer, the woman immediately slammed the magazine and nodded to her other police officer with a densely led her eyes standing near her. She took off a black item from her belt, in which Anya did not immediately recognize the metal detector, and began to fumble on the beds. The examination went in complete silence and lasted only a couple of minutes. The woman searched Anina’s bed especially carefully, turning the pillow and gaging the blanket. Anya felt an instant outbreak of indignation from the fact that an outsider unceremoniously invades her personal space, but forced himself to remain silent.

Having finished the inspection and never uttering a word, the cops quickly left the camera. The frightened girl jumped out the last.

“Fu, a disgusting shift, a disgusting duty officer,” Katya shrugged her shoulders and flopped down on Dianina's bed. - One thing pleases that it is coming to go out soon. It was not long to see them.

- And how many shifts are there? - asked Anya.

- Yes, three. Tomorrow there will be a good uncle-off-house, then yesterday, and again this woman. She is the only one here, like she observes the charter.

“He observes anything,” Anya grumbled. “I think she just rude.” And in general, some dead.

Natasha, meanwhile, headed for the toilet and disappeared behind the door. Her face was, as usual, gloomy, but now also very concentrated. After a second, a roar rang out, and she emerged from the nozzle, blowing a bang from her forehead. Her hands were occupied by a basin and a broom, under her arm, she held a mop.

- Okay, get to get out! She announced.

Anya immediately strained. She poorly imagined local orders, but there was no doubt that she would be forced to get out now. How to behave in this situation - contemptuously reject a rag? Sure? Swear? To pretend that she loves to wash the floors and does not see anything humiliating in this?

Natasha, meanwhile, sniffed the pelvis at the sink, but she led her mop and began to wield a broom with a serene look. The rest did not pay any attention to her, they only raised her legs when she swept under their beds. Anya looked in all eyes and did not believe that there would be no trick. When Natasha got to her bed, she could not stand it and timidly asked:

- Maybe help you?

- No, everything is in order. I just love it to be clean. They taught in prison.

Anya nodded silently. It was nice, of course, to amuse herself with fantasies that this place was such a specific sanatorium, but Natasha knew how to deftly return a person to reality.

Having managed with a broom, Natasha began to wash the floor. Anya watched in a fascinated way she fearlessly grabbed a dirty rag with her bare hands, rinses in muddy water and flopes on a mop. Although the rest still ignored Natashin's enthusiasm, she did not lose him at all.

In the midst of cleaning, the radio began to play - from surprise everyone jumped up, and only Natasha continued to take the floors selflessly, not being distracted by the little things. Having finished with washing, she announced in satisfaction: "Thus, they can walk barefoot!" - And then she threw off the slaps. Anya shuddered inwardly.