1998 10 21. Asya.

After my release from prison, I tried with all my might to leave Ukraine, but the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Ukraine verbally notified me that they would not let me go anywhere, because I had a criminal record and now I am in their hands forever...

There is such an organization called ITs ATC and there I was listed as a criminal. I didn’t understand legal issues, rushed from side to side and told my mother about everything, consulted with her. It cost only $100 to remove a person from the "card" in this very ATC IT, that is, just to steal this card, but I could not find anyone who would work there.

In mid-October 1998, I was introduced to a man who worked there and he said he could help me, but the price he quoted was too high for me - $1700. At that time, I didn't have that kind of money. The conversation took place at his home. We had mutual friends, we decided to have a drink, and in general, I came home at about 2:30 at night, tipsy.

I was happy. I told my parents that I had agreed and that I would soon leave for America. These were my parents and I made them happy...

Asya was very attached to me and she came out, sleepy, to say hello. I took her in my arms, stroked her warm belly, put her on the floor and she went to the kitchen to sleep, and I went to my room. I also thought that she was fat, heavy and growing well.

I fell asleep, for the first time in many years, with a feeling of lightness. Nothing oppressed me anymore. I knew that I would soon leave this damned country and forget it forever.

I woke up at 8 o'clock in the morning, from a terrible, dying cry of a cat and followed immediately after him by the shot-like stomping of feet and the cry of my mother: “Go, look, your Asya is dying!”. Neither before nor after have I ever heard such a sound - there was such an impression that not a man, but a bull, ran through the apartment.

Running out into the kitchen, I saw that my Asya, powerlessly lying on her back, on the floor, to the right of the entrance to the kitchen, with her head and back to me, paws to the sink and throwing her head, makes convulsive attempts to inhale. I knelt down next to her, deciding that she was just choking on something and began to examine her mouth and throat. I was amazed that her mouth was blue and absolutely cold, icy and she herself was cold. Seeing that her respiratory organs were clean, I got up and began to say in bewilderment, what is it, how could this happen? It was unbelievable. Three and a half hours ago, Asya was absolutely healthy...

In the midst of the horror of everything that was happening, with peripheral vision, I saw a strange picture: my biological mother, Alla Khmelnitskaya, was standing to my left, between the kitchen table and the kitchen cabinet, facing the entrance to the kitchen, in a strange position: her arms were bent at the elbows, her hands unnaturally curved, the body unnaturally bent, the eyes are blurred, the gaze is meaningless, in front of her, her mouth is open, some kind of convulsions passed through her body, from which she bent even more and her glasses fell off her nose. And she, with some jerky movements, shifted from foot to foot, at the same time trying to pick up the falling glasses with unruly hands...

All this lasted no more than a minute. My unfortunate Asya, trying to reach me for the last time, raised her head and immediately dropped it helplessly, and died.

I couldn't believe what happened. I began to interrogate my mother what Asya ate, and then I took Asya for an autopsy, hoping to establish the cause of death.

After that, strange things immediately began. Mother knew where I went. She knew everything. I didn't hide anything from her. She was very worried, because I went to do an examination, she was very nervous. First, the veterinarian promised to do an autopsy right away, then, in a strange way, the examination dragged on for two hours, and then the veterinarian who performed the autopsy said that supposedly my Asya died of a heart defect. It was complete nonsense. Asya always played a lot and never got tired. Heart disease cannot develop instantly.

In general, without finding out anything and understanding nothing, I buried my Asya.

Several times later I asked my mother what she was doing while Asya was dying, but her mother pretended to be an idiot and said that she did not understand what was being said.

After 15 years, I showed this gesture to a doctor I knew and he explained to me that it was called “kneading the clay with your feet in a beaver position” and that this is what female masturbation looks like... He also explained to me that my mother’s shot-like stomp of my mother’s feet most likely indicates her schizophrenia...

That is, on October 21, 1998, my biological mother, Alla Khmelnitskaya, having learned from me at night that I had found the door and would soon leave for America, went berserk and decided to suppress me by killing my kitten, to which I was very attached. While I was sleeping, she gave the kitten poison, waited until the agony began and stomping furiously like a mad horse, ran to the door of my bedroom with a cry: “Go, look, your Asya is dying!”, called me to look at the agony of the kitten, and while in horror and despair, I tried to do something to save the kitten, Alla Khmelnitskaya stood nearby and... jerked off. Just jerking off and that's it...

Such a good woman, Agony Mikhailovna Khmelnitskaya... A great and sacrificial mother...

I am forced to publish these records due to the fact that I believe that my biological mother, Alla Khmelnitskaya, is an ordinary maniac and she uses her kinship towards me only to endlessly mock me, until my death, as well as in due to the fact that there is a conspiracy in which all the people around me are involved, because they all convince me and those around me that supposedly I have a very good mother... Perhaps she is really good, but not for me, but for those who need to kill me.

In the autumn of 2011, Alla Khmelnitskaya deceived me and the administrative court of Ansbach, Germany, as an explanation that I could not pass the test in German, due to the fact that the state of Ukraine organized continuous, long-term mockery of me, instead of an act of forensic medical examination , that I was beaten by garbage and I had a concussion and a broken nose, submitted to the court... a urine analysis of her husband, my biological father, Joseph Mednik... I imagine how the judge read it all... Dad's urine analysis, as grounds for not taking the test in German...

According to Alla Khmelnitskaya, the Stuttgart rabbi told her to do so... That is, she sent the court a urine test of her husband, and she gave the documents that I was beaten by rubbish to the rabbi ... Not vice versa...

http://bit.ly/3EwwStF