Something
was amiss. I felt my hair standing on ends and a peculiar tingling sensation
all over my body. It felt like an electric pulse. In the background, I could
her Ms. Stanford scolding, “Don’t touch that!” but she was too late, I had
already done it. Her voice faded and I felt myself transported to a whole new
place.
The
relic was irresistible and placed in a clear, unsealed, glass casing. It
belonged to Rasputin. I was tempted to touch it, and so I did. Little did I
know that it was a horrible mistake to touch the reputed pendant of the evil,
Russian monk.
I
was in a dark place, being transported to someplace I did no know. I had a
bushy, long moustache and beard and I was wearing all black. For a moment, I
realized that I might had been Rasputin himself. Was I? I could hear two men
speaking in a language which I could strangely understand; it was Russian. They
were discussing something about a river and the sentries not being there.
The
car was moving very fast and I was engulfed in excruciating pain all over. My
stomach was twisting and I had trouble breathing. I could barely move with my
body bundled up in a scruffy, itchy and dusty rug.
The
car pulled over and the two men dragged me out and tossed me clumsily into the
icy, cold river. The intense cold gripped me and I tried to swim afloat. My
arms were stretched out and my eyes were tightly shut.
The
next thing I knew, I was back in the museum, standing where I stood before the
whole journey had begun. Ms. Stanford was standing beside me, looking crossed.
I tried explaining, but she wouldn’t listen so I made her touch it too. From
her expression and bodily movements, I could tell that she would no longer
doubt when she returned.
On
the school bus back home, Ms. Stanford sat next to me and whispered into my
ear, “No one will believe us…”
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