2. The Book of Knowledge. 3. 5. Angel

The BOOK of KNOWLEDGE,
a novel by Alexandra Kryuchkova
in the “PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY” series

PART 2. ANOTHER REALITY

Day No. 3

CHAPTER 3.5. ANGEL

In the evening we worked with the mantras on the program, aimed at eliminating neoplasms. From that day on, RAM tried to bring us into a deeper state, teaching us to communicate with the Subconscious by means of spontaneous movement of the right hand, starting with the movement of the fingers and ending with the raising of the hand and its movement in space.

Lying for two hours in the position, I had once described, was not like on a soft pillow in a warm bed. That evening, I felt especially uncomfortable. Or rather, not me, my legs, having walked as many mountain paths in three days as, probably, not yet walked in my entire life. When it seemed to me that my legs would lose the right position at the heels, I suddenly felt my body vibrate. A strange, unusual, unfamiliar, but pleasant feeling. Gradually, the vibrations moved higher and higher until they reached the middle of the spine. Eureka! How stupid and fearful I was! Chakras were being worked on. First, we worked out in turn the Three Lower, under the Diaphragm. Then the transition to the Upper Triangle began. The throat vibrated the most, in breaking pulsating waves. I couldn’t believe that was happening in reality and that I really felt, not invent anything. My hands, closed with the inner sides of the palms above my head, suddenly began to move on their own, drawing a line from the Third Eye to above the crown, as if virtually connecting the Ajna chakra with the Thousand-Petal one.

And then people began to appear on my inner screen. Many, many people, of all ages, from children to the elderly, in different clothes. They flashed like in a kaleidoscope, appeared and immediately disappeared, being replaced by new faces. I didn’t know any of them, their clothes resembled theatrical costumes, among the people there were those who had lived in ancient times, and those of the Middle Ages, and later. I barely had time to catch their images. The image on the screen flickered. They were saying something to me, each one, very quickly, in different languages, but I couldn’t figure out what exactly. It seemed like thousands of faces passed before my eyes in a few moments.

“Enough!” RAM said. “Come back slowly.”

We came to our senses in a few minutes and sat around her. She asked who wanted to share their experience. I talked about chakras. She commented on the throat as a creative energy, smiling, “The book is already hanging behind you There. Or rather, they hung it on you. Write, Alice, you can’t get away from it anyway.”

Then I talked about all those people. And one of the seminarians exclaimed to have seen exactly the same, all those multi-aged, in crowds, theatrical costumes, appearing and disappearing in a kaleidoscope of faces.

“Tomorrow, very early in the morning, we leave for the Desert. The City of the Dead awaits us,” said RAM, letting us go at one in the morning.

Several seminarians went to the roof to breathe in the air and look at the stars. I took a seat on the right side of the open door. A girl from Klaipeda sat next to me and asked, “How do you like the Pendulum?”

“In balance…”

“I liked it very much! I work with the pendulum sometimes at home. I have a special stone. You?”

“Rarely. Unless it’s critical. I have a ring instead of a stone. Here it is,” I showed my left hand. “I dragged it into Another Reality with me.”

“Amazing! Have you taken anything out of There?”

“Mostly texts.”

“From the Library of the Universe?”

“Yes.”

“And to what places visited by us are you drawn to, Alice?”

“To the Earth.”

The girl laughed, “Funny phrase, Alice is drawn to the Earth!”

One of the organizers of the seminar entered the roof and looked at the stars. I looked at him and saw his aura. I pulled my neighbor’s sleeve and whispered in her ear, pointing at him with my gaze, “Blue!”

She switched to another vision and after a moment replied, “Yes.”

The man noticed our glances, “What are you talking about?”

“We see your aura. It’s blue in color,” my neighbor said.

And at the same moment, we both showed with our hands its size, how far it extended beyond the contours of the man’s physical body.

He laughed and turned to me, “Are you that Alice, who wrote the Book?”

I nodded and, having said goodbye, returned to my room.

***

Svetlana was waiting for an elite massage therapist. I wanted to sleep.

“You don’t talk to me at all today!” Svetlana said offended. “You talked to Larisa. On the roof. What were you talking about?”

“Well, about girlish stuff,” I answered, flopping down on the bed.

“Alice, tell me about the angels.”

“I have already told you everything. And now the masseur will come to you.”

“No, not everything! You never tell everything, I know! You must have seen them. You couldn’t help but see angels!”

“Really, I haven’t.”

“You are deceiving me. Angels should have been sent to you. At least one!”

“Sent, yes, they have been. But I haven’t seen them, honestly,” I said sadly.

“How were they sent?”

***

I didn’t know how he found me. I knew almost nothing about him, except for his strange name, Angel. We had been texting for several months. He lived in another country and was a well-known journalist in political circles, a writer and photographer, often travelled around the world, knew several foreign languages. He offered to interview me in order to include the interview in his book about great contemporaries, cultural and art figures of the country I was born and lived. The book was to be sponsored by a major international community and published in English. The money from its sale was supposed to be used exclusively for charitable purposes. Of course, I agreed and answered all his difficult questions. Difficult, because even to simply understand what, in fact, they meant, one had to spend a certain amount of time.

And then… Then, almost every day, he sent me some articles, poems, photographs. Photos of flowers, nature. Poems about Heaven. Some of the articles were really interesting to me, some were not, because I was absolutely apolitical.

He had several websites on the Internet. I looked on them and got a strange feeling, yes, on the one hand, those were his sites, but on the other hand, it seemed to me that he was … not there. There was a distinct detachment shining through the vague appearance of presence.

He was fifteen years older than me. However, what did it matter? After all, the age of each of us is determined not by the number of years lived, but by the experience out of them. I saw him as a very interesting, intelligent, deep and bright person, with whom I wanted to communicate and get to know each other better. I invited him to meet when he would come in my city. He didn’t answer. In fact, I didn’t always answer his letters either. After a while, he began to wish me “Good Night!” every evening, and “Have a nice day!” every morning. Addressed me in his messages, he always wrote “You” with a capital letter.

All that seemed incomprehensible and strange.

On Christmas Eve, I sent him my modest greeting. He sent me back one of my favorite pieces of music, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, which, as a child, I used to play for hours on the piano with my eyes closed, and his own winter Fairy Tale of the Goodness. At the end of the letter, I found a postscript, “I would like to kiss you today at 00:00…”

“Did you write this to everyone or just me?”

“Only to You…”

“Thank you, I’m very pleased.” I smiled back, and immediately caught myself thinking, “Is he the one I have been looking for?”

I remembered some people with the Third Eye had predicted to me that He was not of the same blood as I was. True, to be honest, I didn’t know for sure what blood I was made of… “God, have you finally taken pity and answered my prayers?!” But I had no time to continue the chain of pleasant thoughts on such a painful topic, since I suddenly received another message.

“Just don’t forget I’m an angel…”

“It’s a pity…”

“Give me your phone number, I’ll call you…”

We exchanged phone numbers. He called, but I had a press conference, so I couldn’t talk. I called him back around six, but he didn’t pick up the phone. I thought he must be really an angel. Just a figment of my richest imagination in the field of Another Reality, but close to midnight the phone rang.

“Hello, Alice,” said a male voice with tenderness and sadness.

“Hello, Angel,” I tried to smile, but for some reason it didn’t work out.

My heart clenched with the anticipation of an imminent blow to the head. That happened to me before a loss. When I already knew that …

He said the following words quickly, in an absolutely impassive voice, as a statement of fact, without any emotions, but I realized perfectly well what was behind…

“Sorry, I couldn’t answer your call. I’m calling you from the hospital. I have been ill for several years. Oncology. I died several times in this life. You are a young, beautiful, talented, highly spiritual woman. You are beautiful. No, you are divine. And you must continue your Path, no matter how hard it may be.”

“I have been There, too, but… we have to live. And you must live. You are more alive and healthier than anyone else alive! These people, they sometimes seem dead to me. The world needs people like you.”

“You know, I visited Vanga. She said that I must leave everything earthly for Another Reality, otherwise I would die. I have chosen to serve Another Reality, and I am still alive. But I don’t belong to the Earth, Alice. I am involved in global projects for charity. I try to make the world brighter. We must hurry to do good before it’s too late. I gave up everything that has to do with the Earth. It was very hard for me, but it was my choice, a conscious one. I would like to be with you, but you have to live. It is very hard to live on the Earth for such Souls like yours. Thank you for just being. I wish you to walk your path. The Path of Light. And one more thing… To live only an illusion and a dream, even the most beautiful one, is a meager existence. The dreams must be realized in life. And this Christmas Eve I wish you what you really need, that’s love, Earthly Love.”