She shook her head no. Huh? She led me into a basement of a building. That's where the police were located, apparently. We opened the door and –ah. The four men in the Lada were inside. They were cops.
“Do you even piss on a tree like that in Belgium? And insulting the police is also possible there but? Not here!"
Ivanhov's love interpreted everything. I could already see myself being taken away to one prison camp in Siberia.
I was really scared. We had to sit together in a small cell. You could see and hear everything that happened in that police station. From the cell we saw a man being brought in. He turned out to be a Chechen. They tied him to a chair. Around that time there were bombings on Russian subways by Chechens. They took off the man's shoes and socks.
I saw it happen: they're going to hurt that poor man.
A hellish scream confirmed my thoughts. The officers were just playing musical chairs around the tied up man. Every so often, one of the four would stamp on a bare foot with full force. Horrible. This didn't make me feel good. My head became very dark. The man kept shouting. He kept crying. They continued to crush his feet. Finally she untied him. He had to crawl to his cell on his own.
Then we were taken from our cells. My legs were shaking.
“You come from Belgium, so we have to treat you well.”
I swallowed.
“Do you have any money?”
"Naturally". As far as I was concerned, they could have anything – as long as they left my feet intact.
“It's almost New Year's and we're looking forward to some nice spirits. Just go to the for us state store and buy it for us. And oh yes, your travel pass: you leave it here."
Of course we rushed to that liquor store like lightning. We bought boxes full.
“Ahaaa" What a nice gift, thank you," the officers said when we arrived.
They gave my passport back and we were able to leave.
“And my residence document?” I asked.
After a second of silence they started laughing. Apparently it was stunned silence. They laughed straight at me.
"What do you think? Get out of here or we'll just lock you up already!”
They didn't have to tell us again. Once back at the parents of Ivanhov's love, we were able to recover. We told them what had happened and they were also affected. They also told us that there was a daily routine there...I was without papers. I had seen a man being tortured. I had heard it. I almost felt it myself. This was a very intense start to the holiday. From now on I was a stowaway. For safety reasons, we decided that I would no longer stay with Ivanhov's parents. The girl and I traveled to central Moscow by night train. Hopefully there were less police at night. I felt guilty.
“If you hadn't peed on that tree, they would have found another reason to arrest you and take your money,” she said.
An hour later we were in the center of Moscow. Ivanhov and the other group members were waiting for us there. They were shocked by our story.
“Just sleep with me,” Ivanhov said. He had a big studio.
We would both have our own bed.
“Okay!”, I said.
It was New Year's Eve. On Red Square we celebrated, together with still thousands and thousands of other people, the arrival of the new year. Ivanhov and the other men drank alcohol, the ladies and I drank soft drinks. The first kisses of the new year were distributed.
Everyone hugged each other. There were fireworks. Along with the first kisses and hugs, the first ones also fell wishes. Of course they are always the same, but “health”… I found that wish to be the most important. The first fight broke out an hour after midnight. We quickly left Red Square and rushed to the metro. We
40.
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