The Gypsy Woman’s Love Spell: The Price of Desire and the Reckoning. A Chapter from the Book “Crossroads of Worlds”
Behind this story are real hypnotic sessions and past-life regressions. The archive that fell into the author’s hands contained more than seventy immersions into people’s consciousness. What was revealed during these sessions turned out to be deeper than any mysticism — it was a picture of the world where every choice leaves a trace in one’s fate. Later, based on this data, a project grew that today helps thousands of people understand their dreams.
Section 1. Chapter 2
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Ma! Ma! Where are you? — Pyotr bellowed, kicking the door in the entryway with his foot.
At the table, covered with a hand-embroidered tablecloth, sat two women. The younger one was drinking tea from a saucer and slurping so loudly that it made your ears itch. The wench’s thick braid lay like a sausage on her shoulder, and its tail periodically dipped into the very saucer from which she was drinking. The wench saw the wet tail of her braid, but it was evident that this procedure only intensified the pleasure she derived from her tea.
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Why’s our idiot yelling like that, ma? — she asked, without tearing her eyes, squinting down at the saucer under her nose.
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Galka, listen.
Galka didn’t switch her attention to her mother, and the latter shouted even louder:
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Hey! Listen to me! You have to help me.
The girl finally shifted her gaze to her mother and opened her mouth.
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What is it?
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You have to help me. We need to pressure Pyotr so he doesn’t change his mind. So pull yourself together, or you’ll be wiping his nose in the city for another couple of years.
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Tell me more about that, — the girl perked up.
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Do you remember Baba Vita’s neighbor?
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Well? Is that where the big green house is?
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That’s the one.
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She’s getting married soon, isn’t she?
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That’s not a problem. Turns out our Petro has been going to their house for about half a year now.
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And how did he end up there?
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He goes fishing with her father.
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Well, that’s the father. But what about the girl?
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The girl – nothing. But our Petro fell in love with her. He’s lost his head. He’s obsessed with her. He comes to me somehow and asks me to make arrangements with the gypsy woman. At first I didn’t understand. One word led to another, and he told me everything. Only I still didn’t understand how he knows about the gypsy woman. Well, I didn’t ask. The main thing is that such an opportunity can’t be missed, you understand? There’s nothing but poverty all around.
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And is there a chance?
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Seems there is, if we don’t let it slip away.
Both women stared at each other and then, without words, as if on command, each turned in her own direction and looked at the door. At that very moment Petro burst into the room, bent over double and, breathing heavily, rested his hands on his knees.
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I got in to see her. I did everything the way you said, mama.
And he recounted in exact detail the entire conversation between him and Tena. Galka, wide-eyed, listened to every word, and when Petro fell silent, she asked her mother:
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Did he already go to the gypsy woman?
The mother nodded her head and kicked Galka under the table with her foot, so that she wouldn’t forget herself and would wipe that haughty grimace off her face. Now was not the most suitable time to mock her brother.
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I kind of doubt it. She won’t even look at him, with a temper like…
Galka shut up. Under the table followed a kick heavier than the previous one.
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Well, how do you know? They did look at you. And at first, remember, he didn’t even want to say hello, that Bulych of yours?
Galka cast a reproachful glance at her mother, but then started smiling, leaned back in her chair and wheezed under her breath:
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It will be the way I want! Hear that, Petro, stop sitting on your hands! Your fate is in your hands! If, of course, Tena helps.
Galka practically whispered the last sentence to herself. Petro finally caught his breath, slid down the wall onto the floor, settled in and stared at his mother.
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And what if she doesn’t do it? What if it doesn’t work? I’ve never believed in this magic – shmagic.
Silence hung in the room. Galka shifted her gaze to her mother and, ignoring Petro, asked:
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And what’s behind this one, from the city? Will there be any use from her?
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I found everything out through Vitka, – the mother answered. – This girl is the only one her parents have, and the parents are old. Have you seen their house? And have you been in the house? They say they have little things that even princes and boyars before the revolution didn’t all hold in their hands. And she’s not spoiled. She works, has a profession, doesn’t run around, healthy.
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Healthy is good, – said Galka and grinned crookedly, squinting. – Soon she’ll have work piling up. How can you do without health here? Here you’ve got to be healthy no matter what, or else your belly – rip! And you’ll strain yourself.
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Mom, why is she making a fuss? Did I really work you that hard or something? – Petro squeezed out with spite and at the same time with a submission quite fitting in this case.
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Right, Petka, there’s no call for you to work us hard. But your city girl ought to be broken in to work right from the start, so she doesn’t have time left for foolish thoughts. And it’s better that you understand that right away.
It’s a great pity, but this is exactly what Petro quickly understood and remembered as an iron rule. He later entered about a dozen more “such” rules into his personal code. The differences between them consisted mainly in changing needs, while their inner content had one foundation – “I.”
Galka fixed her gaze on her brother, pushed her upper lip forward to look imposing, and with an air of expertise began to deliver a speech:
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How long have you been in the city? Be quiet. I know myself. Eight years. Have you gained much? Be quiet. I’ll tell you myself.
Galka thrust a fig toward her brother, and the thumb, the one sticking out of the fig, was smeared with something brown. Petro noticed but decided it was better not to laugh right now.
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So then, – continued his sister, carried away by her life observations. – Get out while you can, or you’ll keep drudging away until they wheel you off to retirement. And special opportunities, as I recall, didn’t come your way all that often. Nobody ever wrote you seven spans of brains, you have no one to inherit anything from, and you’ll never make it as a big boss.
Peter shuddered again. He remembered the city, his job, and the two construction site bosses he answered to. How he hated those smug, polished mugs. More than anything in the world, he could not stand someone giving him orders. Telling him what to do, controlling him. In their white ironed shirts, “with smart faces,” their city apartments, their intellectual conversations…
“To hell with them. No, spit on them. Right in their mugs!”
Peter snapped out of it. His mother and sister were whispering about something between themselves. Fine, he couldn’t show right now how much he hated. But the time would come… It would… He would remember everything, forget nothing. If he could get to Anna now, that would be an important step. He would get closer, closer to his goal.
But Anna!.. Anna!.. He saw her everywhere, he was delirious over her. She had seeped inside like an obsession and did whatever she wanted there. And there was no strength to get rid of it, and no desire to get rid of it, and no desire not to desire it.
“She must be mine. She will be mine. If only it works out. If only it works out,” Peter muttered under his breath.
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What’s that idiot mumbling about over there? — asked Galka, shifting her gaze from her brother to her mother.
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Mumbling, mumbling. He’s got something planned, that’s what he’s mumbling about. He’s always like that, ever since childhood. If he sets his mind on something, he’ll bang his head against the wall a thousand times but he’ll keep at it until it goes his way.
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All right, Petro, three days, so three days, — said the mother. — They have their own rules. Go haul the manure, you’ve been running around all day as it is. What, am I going to do your work for you?
Peter got up, took a swig of water, and left the house. Today even the manure had a special smell. Today hope had appeared, and he had waited so long for it!
To be continued…
You can find the continuation of the book in the section “Hypnotherapist’s Archive”.
About the book and the project
The material for this book was gathered from a unique source — an archive of hypnosis sessions kept over many years by one of the self-taught hypnotists who lived in the past century. These records, dating back twenty-five years, accidentally ended up with a certified therapist who uses methods of progressive hypnosis in his work. At that time, past-life regression was only just beginning to appear in the country, and the archive already contained more than eight years of observations.
It all began when a young woman who had inherited an apartment discovered a folder with records there. Inside was an instruction that ended with the words: “the one who finds this archive is obliged to continue my work.” The research dragged on for four years, during which more than seventy regressions into past lives and into the state between lives were conducted.
What was discovered during these sessions overturned the understanding of many things. With the permission of that very heiress of the archive, all the materials were handed over to the author. It turned out that everything happening to people on Earth is subject to far more complex laws than is commonly believed. Every step matters, every decision is recorded, and everything that happens is merely one of the possible versions of reality.
The author took the archival records and turned them into a work of fiction, endowing the characters with recognizable traits and placing them in a familiar world. At the same time, the essence of the events set out in the archive was preserved in full.
It was with this book that the creation of a project began, which subsequently grew into a platform for dream analysis. Today, it is based on thousands of participants’ dreams, confirmed by the facts of their realization, as well as numerous identified patterns between symbols and real events.
