My mother and I moved to a new place. At the beginning, we couldn't get used to it. We always felt that it was scary and restrained at the Anna Fedorovna 's house. Anna Feodorovna lives in her own house on Sixth Street. There are five rooms in the room. Anna Feodorovna lives in three of them with my cousin Sasha. Sasha is an orphan without a father or mother and was adopted by her since she was a child. We stayed in a room. The remaining room was next to us, where there lived a poor college student named Pokrovsky, who was Anna Fedorovna's tenant. Anna Fedorovna lives comfortably and is unexpectedly generous, but how much wealth she has, just as what she is busy with, is unknown to others. She is always busy and full of thoughts, and has to go in and out several times a day, but I can't guess what she is busy with, what she is worried about, and what she is worried about. Her relationship is very broad. All kinds of guests came to her, but God knows what kind of guests it was. They always come after something and don't stay for long. As soon as the doorbell rang, my mother quickly took me to our room. Anna Fedorovna was very angry with my mother for this matter, always saying that we were too arrogant, saying that we were arrogant and that we were not qualified to be arrogant at all, and she kept talking for several hours. I didn't understand why she blamed us for being arrogant. Similarly, I only understood, or at least guessed why my mother was reluctant to make up her mind to live in Anna Fedorovna's house. Anna Feodorovna is a vicious woman who constantly tortures us. I still think this is a mystery - why did she invite us to live in her house? At first she was quite intimate with us, and when she saw that we were really helpless and desperate, she revealed her nature. Later, she was very intimate to me, and even became too intimate and flattered me. But at first, my mother and I lived with a breath of silence. She kept scolding us, always talking about the good things she did. She introduced us to others that we were her poor relatives, orphans and widows who were helpless and had a great heart and took us in our own home for the love of Christ. Every time we ate at the dining table, she would look at us. If we don't eat, then there is something else we can say. We can put on airs and ask us to use whatever we say. We may not be more particular about what we say. She often scolded her father, saying that he wanted to make a name for himself, but he was disgraced, causing his wife and daughter to suffer. If it weren't for a compassionate and generous relative, the consequences would be unimaginable, and they might have starved to death on the streets. She can't speak anything! Hearing her say these things, it is better to feel disgusted than sadness. My mother often cried, and her body became worse and worse day by day. She was obviously haggard, but she and I worked from morning to night and took some sewing work, which made Anna Fedorovna angry again. She always says that she doesn't have a clothing store at home. But we need to wear clothes, save some money to make unexpected expenses, we must have some money. We are saving money in case, and we always hope to move out one day. However, my mother worked hard and completely dragged her body down. She is getting weaker day by day. The disease eroded her life like a borer, making her death closer and closer. I saw it all, I felt it all, and I suffered a lot. All this happened before my eyes!
Days pass by day, and every day keeps pace with one day. We lived silently, as if we were not living in the city. Anna Feodorovna also gradually calmed down because she slowly understood that she could dominate us. In fact, no one ever wanted to argue with her. Our room was separated from hers in a corridor, and I have already said that in the room next to us, Pokrovsky lived. He taught Sasha French, German , history, geography - as Anna Feodorovna said, she taught various subjects, so she provided him with accommodation. Although Sasha is willful and naughty, she is a smart girl. She was thirteen years old at that time.Anna Feodorovna told my mom that I could take a look at some more books because I didn’t receive the education I deserved in boarding school. My mother was overjoyed and agreed immediately, so I followed Pokrovsky with Sasha for a whole year.
Pokrovsky is a poor, very poor young man. His health does not allow him to continue studying. We just call him a college student just because we are used to calling him a call. He lived a frugal and quiet life, and his voice was simply not heard in our room. His appearance looks weird, he walks unnaturally, he nods and salutations, and he speaks strangely. At first I couldn't help laughing when I saw him. Sasha often messed with him, especially when he was teaching. And he is also a irritable person. He always loses his temper and gets angry for a little bit of small things, scolds us and blames us. He often goes back to his room angrily before he finishes teaching. He sat there reading books for several days. He has many books, all of which are precious and rare versions. He also taught elsewhere and got some rewards. Whenever he had money, he would go buy books immediately.
After a while, I gained a better understanding of him. He is a very kind and respectable person, and the best of all the people I have met. My mother respects him very much. Later he became my best friend,—of course, worse than my mother.
At first, a girl like me colluded with Sasha and was naughty and often used her brains for several hours, trying her best to make him angry. It's ridiculous to get his temper, which makes us feel particularly happy (and now I feel ashamed to think about this). Once, we almost made him cry, and I clearly heard him muttering, "Viral child." I suddenly became frightened, feeling ashamed, sad, and pitiful as he was. I remember that my face was flushed, and I kept my ears red, and I almost cried and asked him to calm down and not be angry about our random messing around, but he closed the book and went back to his room before he finished teaching our class. I regretted it all day and felt really hard. I was really ashamed to think that our two children used pranks to make him cry. This is clearly because we deliberately want to see him crying, it is clearly because we hope him crying, it is clearly because we force him to bear it, it is clearly because we force him, an unfortunate poor man, to remember his miserable fate! I am upset, I am sad, I regret it, I can't sleep all night. People say that regret can make people feel more relaxed, but in fact, the opposite is true. I don't know how my sadness is related to my self-esteem. I don't want him to see me as an ignorant child. I was fifteen years old at that time.
From this day on, I racked my brains and made countless ideas, trying to make Pokrovsky change his view of me all at once. But I'm sometimes timid and shy. Under the circumstances at that time, I couldn't make up any ideas, just fantasy (God knows what kind of fantasy it is). I no longer play naughty with Sasha, and he no longer gets angry with us. But this still cannot satisfy my self-esteem.
