Rus News Journal

The musical has terminated in a mourning march

In a yellow clay swill thin fur-tree branches fall. On them there come tear-stained men. Carefully. Not to rock terrible cargo on shoulders.

- and the sweater and remained new, - Yaroslav Fadeeva`s grandmother cries. - I to it on birthday have bought. He asked it to put on this damned performance, and I have not given. Thought, will be on vyrost.

Standing at a striped canopy over a coffin, native all time ask for forgiveness about Jarika, Glory, Jaroslavushki. So this kind and light boy called in a family. Now they were deserted.

- My God, what grief. - Yaroslav`s teacher hides the person in an armful of scarlet carnations. - I do not believe in it, I can not, I do not want to believe...

but figures on the modest granite tablet do not leave any hopes. “ Yaroslav Olegovich Fadeev. 18 ƠI 86 - 26 X 2002 “.

With a shovel squelch throw clods razmokshej clay in a fresh hole. Together with clods of the earth native Yaroslav is left by last forces. Shouts and tears are not present for a long time already. They vyplakany for these five days. At first at a building of the grasped Recreation centre on Dubrovke, then in turn in a mortuary. There are no speeches and oaths. Life of the boy has broken all in fifteen. What was he in time? And what could make? Perhaps, from it the outstanding tennis player would turn out. But it became the hostage. On Friday when Jarik sat in the hall grasped by terrorists, he should play the big tennis. As a part of a youthful national team. Parents have bought tickets for the best places...

- now we put on a tomb natural flowers, - budnichno the manager of funeral orders.

for minutes the fresh hillock disappears under scarlet carnations. Yaroslav`s mum not bending fingers all corrects florets at a headboard of the son, levelling carnations one behind one. Also cannot depart from a tomb any more. Falls directly on wet plates of a path.

Native Yaroslav Fadeeva did not want, that on funeral there were journalists. Their this personal grief. But for these five days it became our general. We grieve together with you. Keep!

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