ROOTS
In the summer of 1918 a tragedy echoed across the world when the Russian Imperial Romanov family was murdered by communists leaving much of the country crying out in mourning. Yet, there was a myth that one daughter, the youngest daughter; the Grand Duchess Anastasia had escaped. Though many disbelieved, for some this would prove to be more than a rumor and it would change their lives forever.
Annalisa Peterson, a senior in high school, is dying to get out and move as far away from her family as possible. Not that she has had a rough childhood, but she wants to get away from constantly being expected to be the perfect A student and consistently having to visit her great grandmother who doesn't seem to like her, and oh yeah, doesn't speak a word of English. One final class assignment could change everything that she's ever known, and could literally re-write history. To find out the truth about her family's history, it isn't long before she's digging through old papers, books, photographs, and even travelling to Russia; not to mention getting her heart tangled up with the enemy along the way. As Annalisa finds out more and more, she's quickly discovering that once the real truth is out, her entire life will be turned upside down, and life will become much more dangerous for her, and those around her. Secrets are revealed. Questions are answered. One thing is certain; Annalisa never thought that her senior year would end like this. |
EXCERPTS from ROOTS
PROLOGUE
The Girl Who Lived
It was an eerie, silent of the early morning of the seventeenth day of July in nineteen-eighteen. Too, quiet in fact. The windows were covered with black tar, so no one could tell if it was night or day. Somehow though, I knew that it was in the very early of the morning, perhaps around three or so. Despite the circumstances my Mama, my Papa, my three older sisters and younger brother were all fast asleep in the corner of the tiny room. I was sure several members of the house staff that were placed a few rooms down were asleep also. But I wasn't. Something was going to happen at any moment, I could sense it. I just knew that today was going to change everything, and for that I knew I would not be able to sleep for the rest of the night.
My eyes shifted around the dim lit room, the only light coming from the open door which led into the secluded hall. I began trying to still think of a way to escape this room, yet thought of nothing. It was hopeless escaping from this room; there wasn't a secret door, there wasn't a window that would open, and every door was guarded by a communist soldier, who I was sure to have been told to kill on sight if any of us were to attempt to escape. As I stood up quietly I gathered my shoes and slowly approached the large thick wooden door where the same night guard stood, whom everyone called Bolshevik. This man was not really a man, but yet a boy who despite always having a gun in his hands, I did not come to fear like the others. Perhaps it was because he did not have the same hint of anger, but only loyalty in his eyes. Whichever it was, he always gave me what I asked for, or tried to at least; my mind quickly remembering the moments of whispered conversations from nights past that took place between us. Focusing back on the present, as I continued to approach him he quickly glanced to the right and left looking for the other guards, as he saw one down the hall taking a short nap against the column he relaxed a little giving me somewhat of a comforting smile.
"You are up early your Highness; you should go back to bed." He said in Russian. My eyes glanced up at his young features; he couldn’t have been that much older than me, even though he was near Papa’s height. His hair was a dark shade of brown that was always covered by the traditional communist hat, and the rest of his slim but well built body was covered in the normal communist soldier uniform I have seen most of my captors wear.
"Sir, please I have not slept yet, and I do not plan to tonight. Please I must go to the bathroom; I am not feeling so well." I replied, giving him a small smile of plea, knowing that the last bit was a white lie. I only wished to stretch my legs, to get out from the dark prison. He quickly assessed my words, looking at my facial expression, and whether he believed me or not, something made him sigh just a little, giving me a slight nod.
"Ah, um well I can see if one of the guards will escort you, step back and wait here." He pointed back against the door frame as he whistled to the napping guard.
"Brakov, come here for a second." Bolshevik said, briefly looking back at me before shifting his focus on the tired guard now walking towards us, mumbling something under his breath as he tried to stifle a yawn. This soldier, was a good bit shorter than Bolshevik, and was slightly heavier set, yet still well built.
When he finally reached to where I was standing, the new guard, Brakov, looked down at me with pure hatred, for what I did not know, only that my surname was Romanov.
"What do you want, you little selfish brat." Brakov looked down at me, pointing his rifle at my face. I gasped. Closing my eyes and leaning back away from it afraid that his finger might slip and pull the trigger. I had sadly, come to expect this from this man, many times when he’d been asked to do anything that involved watching or escorting anyone within my family he’s always threatened with some sort of violence, his sick way of teasing us.
"Ummmm.....I I I I nnneeed..." I stuttered over my words, too afraid to answer like a duchess should. Gosh, if grandmamma could've seen me now. She would make me recite a whole Shakespearian sonnet three times for stuttering, like she always did to punish me, I thought silently to myself, feeling my heart racing with fear. My back pressed against the now closed large wooden door that lead back to where my family was still currently sleeping, and as I briefly thought of them, my body began to shake and I knew now I really did need to use the bathroom.
"Comrade, put it down she’s in no way of a threat to you or I, she just needs to go to the bathroom. Will you take her? I must stand guard." Bolshevik asked, and something in his voice made me think he was slightly ordering Brakov to calm down. I didn’t know much about who ranked what, but over the time of being held captive here, I began to realize most seemed to respect Bolshevik, most obeying what he commanded or suggested, even that he was slightly younger in age than the rest.
The look in Brakov’s eyes frighten me more, even as he lowered his rifle, it was if he was killing me here in this hallway with just his eyes. He glanced down at my slight shaking body, and his facial features turning into an evil grin as he looked over at Bolshevik.
"No." Brakov said flatly in a monotone voice. My eyes shot up in sadness at Brakov, this was to also be expected. Despite whatever respect he had for Bolshevik, Brakov hated me more, and for that I knew he’d decline.
"Pppleease Sir?" I stuttered out. Stupid! Why did I just beg? Now he's really going to be mad. I cursed myself, and just as soon as the words left my lips, the pain of the consequence happened just as quick. I winced and cried out as soon as I felt the hard smack of Brakov’s hand slapping me across the face, the result like always was that my lip was starting to bleed and I could feel the bruise of his fingers starting to form on my higher cheek.
"I said, no you filthy Romanov brat. If you have to go so bad just go right here. I'm not taking you, and that's final." Brakov said louder looking at Bolshevik making it perfectly clear. My eyes lowering again, as hope of escaping my room even for a few minutes slightly died.
"Fine, well then Brakov at least watch my post as I take her." Bolshevik said with sharpness in his voice, his body more tense than a few moments before, his hands clenching in a fist over the hilt of the rifle that leaned against his hip.
"Yeah, whatever, just hurry up Bolshevik with the piece of trash. Commander will be here in exactly thirty minutes." Brakov said casually to Bolshevik, who was looking tenser by the second.
"Commander is coming here? Now at this hour? For what? Why wasn't I told of these plans?" Bolshevik asked with glaring eyes.
"God, man, weren't you paying attention earlier this evening Comrade? Commander explained that England was planning to launch a rescue mission, if it’s not already underway. He didn’t want the chances of those demons getting away.” He said pointing directly at me before continuing, “So, in a little over thirty minutes the task will be complete, and we can all go home afterwards. I’ve got much better things to do than babysit these skeletons." He said just a casually as ever revealing he already saw us as being dead to him.
My heart stopped, my eyes widened...and his words echoed in my mind for what seemed to be an eternity, "the task will be complete…the task will be complete" Those words repeating over and over in my mind could only mean one thing. They were planning on killing my family today. They had been threatening it for so long, but they were actually going through with it today. God, now I really thought I was going to be sick.
My eyes lifted to the Bolshevik, who glanced down at me once, the words also registering to him, and for a brief moment I thought I could see some kind of emotion behind his eyes, and just as quickly as his eyes glanced at me, he shifted his eyes back to Brakov, his face never straying from being serious and looking like he could kill Brakov or me at any second.
“Well I guess I should get on with it then, don’t want the Duchess to miss her date with the Devil.” He said with an evil grin at Brakov, both men laughing sinisterly before Bolshevik took my arm and roughly escorting me to the restroom. Whatever emotion that had been in his eyes before and the cruelty behind each of his words and the sound of his laugh became polar opposites of one another. Did he really mean what he said? Did I just imagine him looking at me like that? I wondered as we continued to walk, grateful to the slight breeze as we walked because of feeling sick from the conversation. I had so many emotions going through me, but I told myself not to cry. I had to be strong, I was the daughter of Tsar Nicholas Romanov II and I would not cry in front of the enemy or even this slightly more merciful soldier of the enemy, Bolshevik.
We walked in silence. Bolshevik holding my arm tightly, yet not hurting me like most did when escorting me places within the building. As we approached the door towards the bathroom he stopped me turning me to look at him, and with sad, blue eyes he just stared at me. His fingers released their tight grip from my arm, but still continued to hold me. I was frightened to be alone with any soldier and yet in a way I didn’t want him to let go. I wanted to bravely ask him questions that stirred in my mind, however I knew that was completely out of the question. I could see a war going on behind his eyes, he wanted to say something, and I could tell that the wall he had trained himself to have around anyone was slightly down. With a deep breath he gathered himself once more, and nodded me to enter.
“I’ll wait out here. Don’t be too long, I don’t want to have to come in there after you.” He said softly, knowing he was breaking protocol. Ever since my family and some of our staff were taken to this building to be held as prisoners, there had been some rule, a protocol, that stated that we were not to be unattended at all times. Protocol included the bathroom.
Walking into the bathroom, my cold shaking fingers traced the outline of the light colored marble vanity. My eyes shifted upward, and as I looked at myself in the long mirror I just stared with emotionless eyes. In a little over thirty minutes, my family's life and mine would end. I had never imagined while growing up playing with my brother and sisters that my life would end at just the age of seventeen, and yet, it was going to. I had to snap out of it, I would not feel sorry for myself, I had to be strong for my siblings, even though I wasn’t the oldest, they still looked to me for guidance and strength. The other point being that there was still time. Our extended family was trying to save us, to make deals with the Communist Party and soldiers that held us captive. From what Brakov had just said, some were already on their way. They would come through for us in time, I knew it. I just have to have some faith that we would get out of this somehow.
Finally after letting out a loud sigh, I cupped the running water from the spout and splashed some water on my face, and just as I was drying my face off with my dirty gown from sleeping on the floor, Bolshevik stormed into the bathroom with wide eyes and on a mission, and I just knew it was time for him to take me back for my execution. I didn’t think I took that long I thought briefly to myself as I remembered what he told me before entering.
"Quick! We must hurry, there's a secret passage down the hall that I've discovered that will lead you out and I can get you to safety past the border and into French and English territory. But we must go at once!" He said quickly and almost sounded out of breath while reaching for my hand and not my arm this time. My mind decided now of all times to take in things slowly. Bolshevik’s eyes weren’t looking to harm me at this very second, but more like he was completely concerned, and was serious about his intentions to help me escape. His eyes also held the truth that what he was doing meant death for being a traitor to the Communist army, if he were caught. Even if he were to get me safely across the territory line, there’s no way to say if the governments would keep him alive because he was the enemy. My mind quickly reeled back to his words. Wait, what? No, not me, you mean it's time to kill me right? What about my family? Mama, Papa, Alex. No I can't leave them. I kept thinking.
"But Sir, my family, can't you save them? Please save little Alexei first and then come back for me. He's just a child." I pleaded. I couldn't leave them behind. I wouldn't! I also knew that of all people that should still live had to be Alex, he was the next in line to the throne, and of all situations I knew I had to hold true to my duty as a sister and as member of the Empire. I looked to Bolshevik with determined eyes, knowing that my body was shaking from the thought of even trying to escape. Bolshevik looked at me with knowing eyes, he knew what I was asking. He had thought about all this himself, I quickly assessed. Despite being pressed for time, he calmly looked at me with eyes filled with grief.
"Your Highness, there isn't time. If I go back with you to get them, the other soldiers would kill us all. If we wait any longer they will come and look for you and still kill you. This is your moment. What is your choice? Live or die?" He said sternly, his eyes piercing into mine and I could see courage, fear, pleading, and another emotion I couldn't really describe or name. My heart was racing; my eyes were stinging with tears wanting to form. I knew I was hearing the truth. Bolshevik was right, there wasn’t time to save the rest of my family.
Knowing the choice I had made, I closed my eyes and kissed them goodbye in my mind as I took his warm hand and rushed out the bathroom and down the hall as quickly and silently as possible to the passage that lead down a narrow, wooden staircase behind what looked to be a grand fireplace that had been bricked up some time ago. As we reached the bottom of the wooden staircase, Bolshevik stopped me with his arm, putting himself in front of me, as he held a finger to his mouth to silence me. His eyes glancing back where we just came and I allowed my ears to listen closely to what was the meaning of us stopping. I could hear the footsteps above us and the guns strapped to each of the men who marched. I could only make out a few of the muffled words, but nothing more. Were we found missing already? Where were the soldiers heading? So many questions raced throughout my mind as we just stood there not making a sound or movement.
All of a sudden, Bolshevik, grabbed my wrist and we began running down the rest of the stairs, to where I do not know, what I do know was that somehow I'm was only putting my blind faith in this one Russian communist soldier that was suppose to hate me, suppose to kill me, and yet was saving my life. I took one look back at the way that we came, the last time I'd be in the same building as my family, as we make our way through the servant quarters of the building. Rounding another hall corner we could see an orange glowing light, from a lamp from the dark outside. My heart was racing faster than before; my mind was consumed with thoughts about my family, with their fears, wondering what was happening right now up there in our royal prison chamber. I was breathing heavily from the running and the adrenaline. I wondered if people were looking for me and I prayed to the precious Lord Above that they wouldn't know I was missing until after we were long gone. Yet, that prayer wasn't answered, for as soon as we got to the door loud whistles echoed throughout the entire building. Shouting and yelling. I knew that we had been discovered missing.
We had stopped running as soon as the loud whistles grew louder to the hallway in which we stood in. I looked up at Bolshevik, my eyes wide with fear. He looked down at me for a brief moment, with eyes that changed from being filled with worry to eyes so hard, so cold, which sent a scared shiver throughout my body. His face became grim as he tightened his fingers around the trigger of his gun and glanced up looking back into my eyes, and then at something behind me. Then with a hard push he shoved me back away from him, pointing his gun towards me.
“You’ve run out of places to go little girl.” He said with an evil smirk. I stared at him with hurt and betrayal eyes. So, this is it? It was all a lie? We can't escape so he's going to kill me and just say he caught me escaping? Lord, please help me. Please save me! I thought as I raised my hands, then begging him in stuttering pleas.
His eyes held the evil glare as before yet, "I'm sorry your Highness," was all he said to me in a soft voice filled with a bit of sorrow, as he pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot echoed through the small, dark, hallway.
I bent over grabbing my stomach, expecting the pain to come any moment, or even just a quick death, but after a brief moment I realized that it never came, I wasn't ever hit. Surely he had just shot at me I quickly traced back in my mind, and yet as I analyzed my body searching for some sort of pain, there was none. I was alive. I quickly looked up at him, his gun was still pointing at me with smoke coming for the dark, metal, barrel; I looked behind me to see another communist Russian soldier behind me on the floor with blood coming from the small dark bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Dead. He’s dead. I quickly realized. I had been so caught up with thinking of Bolshevik and thinking we were so close to escaping that I hadn’t heard this other soldier sneaking up behind me.
Bolshevik ran over to me, first leaning down to take the other man's gun, then grabbing my wrist firmly as he dragged me away, and heading out the door of the building.
“Don’t look anymore.” He quickly told me as he used the hilt of his gun to break through the door’s handle, allowing him to shove the door open.
“He’s dead.” I quickly stated out loud already knowing he was.
“Yes.” Was all Bolshevik said in response, and he had a tone of grief in his voice. Had he killed before? I quickly wondered as he led me through the broken doorway, and picking up the pace as we exited the building.
Immediately as we exited the building Bolshevik shoved me down an alley behind the building that had been my prison for so many days and kept pushing me a head of him towards the railroad tracks. Several guards had been outside, and Bolshevik took them out as if they were just children playing toy soldier. That was the moment I knew he had held back so many times before from showing his full combat skills. He was lethal. The first two soldiers we came across he had taken him down with just one shot from his rife, and the second soldier, he had gotten a hold up from behind and quickly snapped his neck without hesitating. This continued several moments, until he reached back and took hold my hand again, pulling me farther with him.
As we ran my mind quickly shifted from the darkness in front of us to the images of my family still being held captive. My feet were protesting to the running, and though I tried to keep up with Bolshevik, I knew I was slowing us both down, still he helped pull me along. He never let go of my hand, which I was grateful for. My eyes finally began to take in the sight of the railroad tracks just up ahead. Yet, I wouldn't remember ever getting to the tracks, for at that same moment that's when I heard the sounds that would echo in my mind for all eternity. Sounds that would change history. Sounds of less than a dozen of guns firing off, and the screams of my family as they were being murdered. That’s when my whole world went silent and black.
The Girl Who Lived
It was an eerie, silent of the early morning of the seventeenth day of July in nineteen-eighteen. Too, quiet in fact. The windows were covered with black tar, so no one could tell if it was night or day. Somehow though, I knew that it was in the very early of the morning, perhaps around three or so. Despite the circumstances my Mama, my Papa, my three older sisters and younger brother were all fast asleep in the corner of the tiny room. I was sure several members of the house staff that were placed a few rooms down were asleep also. But I wasn't. Something was going to happen at any moment, I could sense it. I just knew that today was going to change everything, and for that I knew I would not be able to sleep for the rest of the night.
My eyes shifted around the dim lit room, the only light coming from the open door which led into the secluded hall. I began trying to still think of a way to escape this room, yet thought of nothing. It was hopeless escaping from this room; there wasn't a secret door, there wasn't a window that would open, and every door was guarded by a communist soldier, who I was sure to have been told to kill on sight if any of us were to attempt to escape. As I stood up quietly I gathered my shoes and slowly approached the large thick wooden door where the same night guard stood, whom everyone called Bolshevik. This man was not really a man, but yet a boy who despite always having a gun in his hands, I did not come to fear like the others. Perhaps it was because he did not have the same hint of anger, but only loyalty in his eyes. Whichever it was, he always gave me what I asked for, or tried to at least; my mind quickly remembering the moments of whispered conversations from nights past that took place between us. Focusing back on the present, as I continued to approach him he quickly glanced to the right and left looking for the other guards, as he saw one down the hall taking a short nap against the column he relaxed a little giving me somewhat of a comforting smile.
"You are up early your Highness; you should go back to bed." He said in Russian. My eyes glanced up at his young features; he couldn’t have been that much older than me, even though he was near Papa’s height. His hair was a dark shade of brown that was always covered by the traditional communist hat, and the rest of his slim but well built body was covered in the normal communist soldier uniform I have seen most of my captors wear.
"Sir, please I have not slept yet, and I do not plan to tonight. Please I must go to the bathroom; I am not feeling so well." I replied, giving him a small smile of plea, knowing that the last bit was a white lie. I only wished to stretch my legs, to get out from the dark prison. He quickly assessed my words, looking at my facial expression, and whether he believed me or not, something made him sigh just a little, giving me a slight nod.
"Ah, um well I can see if one of the guards will escort you, step back and wait here." He pointed back against the door frame as he whistled to the napping guard.
"Brakov, come here for a second." Bolshevik said, briefly looking back at me before shifting his focus on the tired guard now walking towards us, mumbling something under his breath as he tried to stifle a yawn. This soldier, was a good bit shorter than Bolshevik, and was slightly heavier set, yet still well built.
When he finally reached to where I was standing, the new guard, Brakov, looked down at me with pure hatred, for what I did not know, only that my surname was Romanov.
"What do you want, you little selfish brat." Brakov looked down at me, pointing his rifle at my face. I gasped. Closing my eyes and leaning back away from it afraid that his finger might slip and pull the trigger. I had sadly, come to expect this from this man, many times when he’d been asked to do anything that involved watching or escorting anyone within my family he’s always threatened with some sort of violence, his sick way of teasing us.
"Ummmm.....I I I I nnneeed..." I stuttered over my words, too afraid to answer like a duchess should. Gosh, if grandmamma could've seen me now. She would make me recite a whole Shakespearian sonnet three times for stuttering, like she always did to punish me, I thought silently to myself, feeling my heart racing with fear. My back pressed against the now closed large wooden door that lead back to where my family was still currently sleeping, and as I briefly thought of them, my body began to shake and I knew now I really did need to use the bathroom.
"Comrade, put it down she’s in no way of a threat to you or I, she just needs to go to the bathroom. Will you take her? I must stand guard." Bolshevik asked, and something in his voice made me think he was slightly ordering Brakov to calm down. I didn’t know much about who ranked what, but over the time of being held captive here, I began to realize most seemed to respect Bolshevik, most obeying what he commanded or suggested, even that he was slightly younger in age than the rest.
The look in Brakov’s eyes frighten me more, even as he lowered his rifle, it was if he was killing me here in this hallway with just his eyes. He glanced down at my slight shaking body, and his facial features turning into an evil grin as he looked over at Bolshevik.
"No." Brakov said flatly in a monotone voice. My eyes shot up in sadness at Brakov, this was to also be expected. Despite whatever respect he had for Bolshevik, Brakov hated me more, and for that I knew he’d decline.
"Pppleease Sir?" I stuttered out. Stupid! Why did I just beg? Now he's really going to be mad. I cursed myself, and just as soon as the words left my lips, the pain of the consequence happened just as quick. I winced and cried out as soon as I felt the hard smack of Brakov’s hand slapping me across the face, the result like always was that my lip was starting to bleed and I could feel the bruise of his fingers starting to form on my higher cheek.
"I said, no you filthy Romanov brat. If you have to go so bad just go right here. I'm not taking you, and that's final." Brakov said louder looking at Bolshevik making it perfectly clear. My eyes lowering again, as hope of escaping my room even for a few minutes slightly died.
"Fine, well then Brakov at least watch my post as I take her." Bolshevik said with sharpness in his voice, his body more tense than a few moments before, his hands clenching in a fist over the hilt of the rifle that leaned against his hip.
"Yeah, whatever, just hurry up Bolshevik with the piece of trash. Commander will be here in exactly thirty minutes." Brakov said casually to Bolshevik, who was looking tenser by the second.
"Commander is coming here? Now at this hour? For what? Why wasn't I told of these plans?" Bolshevik asked with glaring eyes.
"God, man, weren't you paying attention earlier this evening Comrade? Commander explained that England was planning to launch a rescue mission, if it’s not already underway. He didn’t want the chances of those demons getting away.” He said pointing directly at me before continuing, “So, in a little over thirty minutes the task will be complete, and we can all go home afterwards. I’ve got much better things to do than babysit these skeletons." He said just a casually as ever revealing he already saw us as being dead to him.
My heart stopped, my eyes widened...and his words echoed in my mind for what seemed to be an eternity, "the task will be complete…the task will be complete" Those words repeating over and over in my mind could only mean one thing. They were planning on killing my family today. They had been threatening it for so long, but they were actually going through with it today. God, now I really thought I was going to be sick.
My eyes lifted to the Bolshevik, who glanced down at me once, the words also registering to him, and for a brief moment I thought I could see some kind of emotion behind his eyes, and just as quickly as his eyes glanced at me, he shifted his eyes back to Brakov, his face never straying from being serious and looking like he could kill Brakov or me at any second.
“Well I guess I should get on with it then, don’t want the Duchess to miss her date with the Devil.” He said with an evil grin at Brakov, both men laughing sinisterly before Bolshevik took my arm and roughly escorting me to the restroom. Whatever emotion that had been in his eyes before and the cruelty behind each of his words and the sound of his laugh became polar opposites of one another. Did he really mean what he said? Did I just imagine him looking at me like that? I wondered as we continued to walk, grateful to the slight breeze as we walked because of feeling sick from the conversation. I had so many emotions going through me, but I told myself not to cry. I had to be strong, I was the daughter of Tsar Nicholas Romanov II and I would not cry in front of the enemy or even this slightly more merciful soldier of the enemy, Bolshevik.
We walked in silence. Bolshevik holding my arm tightly, yet not hurting me like most did when escorting me places within the building. As we approached the door towards the bathroom he stopped me turning me to look at him, and with sad, blue eyes he just stared at me. His fingers released their tight grip from my arm, but still continued to hold me. I was frightened to be alone with any soldier and yet in a way I didn’t want him to let go. I wanted to bravely ask him questions that stirred in my mind, however I knew that was completely out of the question. I could see a war going on behind his eyes, he wanted to say something, and I could tell that the wall he had trained himself to have around anyone was slightly down. With a deep breath he gathered himself once more, and nodded me to enter.
“I’ll wait out here. Don’t be too long, I don’t want to have to come in there after you.” He said softly, knowing he was breaking protocol. Ever since my family and some of our staff were taken to this building to be held as prisoners, there had been some rule, a protocol, that stated that we were not to be unattended at all times. Protocol included the bathroom.
Walking into the bathroom, my cold shaking fingers traced the outline of the light colored marble vanity. My eyes shifted upward, and as I looked at myself in the long mirror I just stared with emotionless eyes. In a little over thirty minutes, my family's life and mine would end. I had never imagined while growing up playing with my brother and sisters that my life would end at just the age of seventeen, and yet, it was going to. I had to snap out of it, I would not feel sorry for myself, I had to be strong for my siblings, even though I wasn’t the oldest, they still looked to me for guidance and strength. The other point being that there was still time. Our extended family was trying to save us, to make deals with the Communist Party and soldiers that held us captive. From what Brakov had just said, some were already on their way. They would come through for us in time, I knew it. I just have to have some faith that we would get out of this somehow.
Finally after letting out a loud sigh, I cupped the running water from the spout and splashed some water on my face, and just as I was drying my face off with my dirty gown from sleeping on the floor, Bolshevik stormed into the bathroom with wide eyes and on a mission, and I just knew it was time for him to take me back for my execution. I didn’t think I took that long I thought briefly to myself as I remembered what he told me before entering.
"Quick! We must hurry, there's a secret passage down the hall that I've discovered that will lead you out and I can get you to safety past the border and into French and English territory. But we must go at once!" He said quickly and almost sounded out of breath while reaching for my hand and not my arm this time. My mind decided now of all times to take in things slowly. Bolshevik’s eyes weren’t looking to harm me at this very second, but more like he was completely concerned, and was serious about his intentions to help me escape. His eyes also held the truth that what he was doing meant death for being a traitor to the Communist army, if he were caught. Even if he were to get me safely across the territory line, there’s no way to say if the governments would keep him alive because he was the enemy. My mind quickly reeled back to his words. Wait, what? No, not me, you mean it's time to kill me right? What about my family? Mama, Papa, Alex. No I can't leave them. I kept thinking.
"But Sir, my family, can't you save them? Please save little Alexei first and then come back for me. He's just a child." I pleaded. I couldn't leave them behind. I wouldn't! I also knew that of all people that should still live had to be Alex, he was the next in line to the throne, and of all situations I knew I had to hold true to my duty as a sister and as member of the Empire. I looked to Bolshevik with determined eyes, knowing that my body was shaking from the thought of even trying to escape. Bolshevik looked at me with knowing eyes, he knew what I was asking. He had thought about all this himself, I quickly assessed. Despite being pressed for time, he calmly looked at me with eyes filled with grief.
"Your Highness, there isn't time. If I go back with you to get them, the other soldiers would kill us all. If we wait any longer they will come and look for you and still kill you. This is your moment. What is your choice? Live or die?" He said sternly, his eyes piercing into mine and I could see courage, fear, pleading, and another emotion I couldn't really describe or name. My heart was racing; my eyes were stinging with tears wanting to form. I knew I was hearing the truth. Bolshevik was right, there wasn’t time to save the rest of my family.
Knowing the choice I had made, I closed my eyes and kissed them goodbye in my mind as I took his warm hand and rushed out the bathroom and down the hall as quickly and silently as possible to the passage that lead down a narrow, wooden staircase behind what looked to be a grand fireplace that had been bricked up some time ago. As we reached the bottom of the wooden staircase, Bolshevik stopped me with his arm, putting himself in front of me, as he held a finger to his mouth to silence me. His eyes glancing back where we just came and I allowed my ears to listen closely to what was the meaning of us stopping. I could hear the footsteps above us and the guns strapped to each of the men who marched. I could only make out a few of the muffled words, but nothing more. Were we found missing already? Where were the soldiers heading? So many questions raced throughout my mind as we just stood there not making a sound or movement.
All of a sudden, Bolshevik, grabbed my wrist and we began running down the rest of the stairs, to where I do not know, what I do know was that somehow I'm was only putting my blind faith in this one Russian communist soldier that was suppose to hate me, suppose to kill me, and yet was saving my life. I took one look back at the way that we came, the last time I'd be in the same building as my family, as we make our way through the servant quarters of the building. Rounding another hall corner we could see an orange glowing light, from a lamp from the dark outside. My heart was racing faster than before; my mind was consumed with thoughts about my family, with their fears, wondering what was happening right now up there in our royal prison chamber. I was breathing heavily from the running and the adrenaline. I wondered if people were looking for me and I prayed to the precious Lord Above that they wouldn't know I was missing until after we were long gone. Yet, that prayer wasn't answered, for as soon as we got to the door loud whistles echoed throughout the entire building. Shouting and yelling. I knew that we had been discovered missing.
We had stopped running as soon as the loud whistles grew louder to the hallway in which we stood in. I looked up at Bolshevik, my eyes wide with fear. He looked down at me for a brief moment, with eyes that changed from being filled with worry to eyes so hard, so cold, which sent a scared shiver throughout my body. His face became grim as he tightened his fingers around the trigger of his gun and glanced up looking back into my eyes, and then at something behind me. Then with a hard push he shoved me back away from him, pointing his gun towards me.
“You’ve run out of places to go little girl.” He said with an evil smirk. I stared at him with hurt and betrayal eyes. So, this is it? It was all a lie? We can't escape so he's going to kill me and just say he caught me escaping? Lord, please help me. Please save me! I thought as I raised my hands, then begging him in stuttering pleas.
His eyes held the evil glare as before yet, "I'm sorry your Highness," was all he said to me in a soft voice filled with a bit of sorrow, as he pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot echoed through the small, dark, hallway.
I bent over grabbing my stomach, expecting the pain to come any moment, or even just a quick death, but after a brief moment I realized that it never came, I wasn't ever hit. Surely he had just shot at me I quickly traced back in my mind, and yet as I analyzed my body searching for some sort of pain, there was none. I was alive. I quickly looked up at him, his gun was still pointing at me with smoke coming for the dark, metal, barrel; I looked behind me to see another communist Russian soldier behind me on the floor with blood coming from the small dark bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Dead. He’s dead. I quickly realized. I had been so caught up with thinking of Bolshevik and thinking we were so close to escaping that I hadn’t heard this other soldier sneaking up behind me.
Bolshevik ran over to me, first leaning down to take the other man's gun, then grabbing my wrist firmly as he dragged me away, and heading out the door of the building.
“Don’t look anymore.” He quickly told me as he used the hilt of his gun to break through the door’s handle, allowing him to shove the door open.
“He’s dead.” I quickly stated out loud already knowing he was.
“Yes.” Was all Bolshevik said in response, and he had a tone of grief in his voice. Had he killed before? I quickly wondered as he led me through the broken doorway, and picking up the pace as we exited the building.
Immediately as we exited the building Bolshevik shoved me down an alley behind the building that had been my prison for so many days and kept pushing me a head of him towards the railroad tracks. Several guards had been outside, and Bolshevik took them out as if they were just children playing toy soldier. That was the moment I knew he had held back so many times before from showing his full combat skills. He was lethal. The first two soldiers we came across he had taken him down with just one shot from his rife, and the second soldier, he had gotten a hold up from behind and quickly snapped his neck without hesitating. This continued several moments, until he reached back and took hold my hand again, pulling me farther with him.
As we ran my mind quickly shifted from the darkness in front of us to the images of my family still being held captive. My feet were protesting to the running, and though I tried to keep up with Bolshevik, I knew I was slowing us both down, still he helped pull me along. He never let go of my hand, which I was grateful for. My eyes finally began to take in the sight of the railroad tracks just up ahead. Yet, I wouldn't remember ever getting to the tracks, for at that same moment that's when I heard the sounds that would echo in my mind for all eternity. Sounds that would change history. Sounds of less than a dozen of guns firing off, and the screams of my family as they were being murdered. That’s when my whole world went silent and black.
CHAPTER ONE
The Assignment
Present Day
Good morning all you early birds, it's time to rise and shine to the hottest radio station in the Carolinas. Today is going to be another hot one, as the summer season is just around the corner, with a high of ninety-seven with a humidity of ninety-eight.
I pulled my arm back underneath my warm covers as I turned over in the bed after shutting off my alarm clock, attempting to sleep a little longer. Thinking in my mind, Okay just five more minutes, and then I have to get up or I'm going to be late, five more minutes that’s not too much to ask for. As I closed my eyes to try to get back to the amazing dream that I was having of me becoming prom queen, something that had never in my life happened, however that’s what made the dream so much sweeter. Despite me having great friends, a girl like me, the school’s second in line of becoming valedictorian wasn't ever in a million years going to be voted prom queen, at least not outside of the movies.
"Lisa, are you awake yet? We're leaving in thirty minutes!" I heard my mother calling from the bottom of the stairs.
"Mom, I'm not going to school today, I'm sick." I tried to lie to her, even providing the couple of fake coughs, really not wanting to go to school today.
"Lisa, you are not sick, now come on get up. If I have to come up there and check on you then you are grounded. Now move!" She said in her already stressed voice.
I didn't see why I needed to go to school today. It wasn't like I never went, in fact out of all twelve years of school from K-12 I've only missed one day, and that was when both my grandmother and grandfather had passed away when I was in third grade. Besides, it's also not really going to affect my grades at all if I miss a test or a quiz or even anything. I had straight A's. Okay that's a lie, I had all A's and one B, and the B was in stupid World History.
I just didn't see why we needed to know about World History when I am perfectly fine with living in America. Yet, here I was a senior in high school in the next to last month of the semester. I had already planned on where I was going to in the fall which was the University of Southern California. I wanted to get away from here as much as possible, to be able to live out a care-free life. Sure, the school was one of the best in North America, which was probably the only reason why my mother bought the whole idea, but the real reason that I choose it was because it was on the opposite side of the country and no one was going to tell me when to study or give me grief about not being disciplined. In fact, I pretty much plan on partying and slacking off the entire first semester, at least enjoying not being expected to make all A’s for once in my life.
"Lisa, ten minutes!" My mom called from downstairs.
Crap! I'm so going to be late; I thought as I swung my covers off and jumped out of bed heading for my clothes and the bathroom.
Ugh, today was going to be another hot and humid spring day. Which I don't even think you can call it spring when it's as hot as summer, but that's just my opinion. As I looked in the mirror, to decide if I even wanted to put on my makeup all I could see was a young, girl with deep blue eyes, the hair the color of dark auburn, the creamy light tan skin from laying out all the time, and the lips that held many secrets of the longings I desired, I wasn't the ugliest girl in school, but I was certainly not the prettiest, at least not in my opinion. I took a deep breath, as I was preparing myself for today, okay only eight hours and then I can be free of boredom; I coached myself.
"Lisa, we need to leave now. Come on." My mom said impatiently.
“Coming!” I quickly shouted back. I quickly ran the brush through my hair before grabbing my book-bag and rushing down the stairs and out the door to our gold and red minivan.
Gosh, I couldn't wait to get a car for graduation. I was hoping to get one for my eighteenth birthday back in December, hoping that it would be a fun birthday/early Christmas gift. Yet, received nothing like that. It really sucked too, because I was seriously one of the only seniors that didn't have a car, and had to be dropped off everyday like every underclassman. Even my best friend Mandy Johnson, who had a car, chose to take pity on me and ride to school every day with her parents.
"Oh Lisa, you look pretty today." My mom smiled as I jumped into the van, she always said that.
"Thanks mom, but its okay to tell me the truth, I really do look like crap. I didn't have time to really get dressed." I replied.
"And whose fault is that?" My mom said in her knowing all voice.
"Mom, I know, I know." I decided to not give her the whole didn't have to go to school speech. It would just end up depressing me and her when it would turn into, “Your father would've wanted you to go..." speech.
I looked at my mother; it was crazy to have thought that I even had a Father. I mean I know I did, but I never knew him. He had died shortly after I was born while he was stationed over in Iraq during the Gulf War, and yet my mother never remarried. I guess it was a good thing, because I would've had to approve of the new dad want-a-be, and I don't think anyone could fill the spot of which my mom took over all the time. My mom and I were close, even though at times I wish she would just give me my space, but she was my best friend. Sure I had other friends from school and church, but my mom knew everything about me and my life.
As we approached school, I could see my group of friends waiting by our normal spot by the wall. Okay maybe today won't be so bad. Only eight hours of boring lectures and then I'm home-free for the rest of the day. I thought to myself.
"Now remember, after school we are going to the nursing home to visit Nunna." My mother reminded me as I started to get out of the car.
"Aww mom, do I have to? It's the same boring thing over and over again. We just sit there. No one says anything, and she just stares out the window in her bed. Can't you just go instead of me?" I whined.
Okay I know I was being a brat, people should love visiting family, but this was different. My great grandmamma didn't speak a word of English. I don't even know if she knew any English, she only spoke Russian, which I was fortunate to learn growing up. I wasn't very fluent, but I could get by for a while if I ever had to visit Russia...which would be never. Only my mom and my grandmamma could really carry on conversations with her. Yet, when my father passed away she had quit talking all together. But Mom always insisted that we went every week on Thursday to visit.
"Now, Lisa, she's very old. She doesn't have much longer, I'm really surprised she's been alive this long, but you need to visit her. You don't really know her all that well; maybe you two could actually talk, because next week you're going to have to go on your own." My mom said.
"What? Why? Why can't you be there?" I asked with wide eyes. How could my mom leave me alone with a woman who has shown no interest in me all of my life? And I could barely talk to.
"Hunny, I'm sorry I need to go out of town for a business trip. This is when we make the most money for the year, and with graduation around the corner, we need to make sure you have everything for next semester." She said.
"Ugh, fine. I know, I know. I need to go see you later." I replied as I slammed the door.
While walking towards my small group of friends, I caught the eye of my best friend Mandy Johnson, who gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing that I'd just had one out with my mom.
Mandy and I had been best friends all of my life, our mothers were best friends at church, and she lived in the neighborhood next to ours. She was always one of those cheerleaders, dancer, always graceful, and always smiled, type of girls. When we were little, our mothers swore they couldn't tell us apart when we were on the playground. We both had long, dark, auburn hair and the same body shape, but nowadays Mandy was sporting new bright blonde highlights, which I’d, admit just suited her crazy fun personality.
"Hey Lisa, and how are we this morning?" Mandy said with a curious look.
"Ugh, late, not wanting to be here because it's another boring school day and there's not going to be any new material that we are covering today, and plus my mom just reminded me that we are going to see my great grandmamma at the nursing home today after school." I said as I leaned against the wall.
"Ouch, she's still alive?"
"Yeah, but she might as well not be, she never talks, she just stares out the window or up at the ceiling. Oh and to make matters worse, I have to go by myself next week, since my mom is going out of town again." I said with a groan. Again, I know I was being really whinny and bratty, but I didn't see the point of me going somewhere, where no one says anything, and when I do try to put some effort into the visit I always get awkward smiles from my mother or the nurse that usually comes in. She doesn't want to be there, I don't want to be there, it seems logical to just make us both happy and for me to just not go, in my opinion.
"I'm sure it's not going to be that bad. I'm sure deep down she loves the company, she's been through a lot right? Maybe with you just talking nonsense it'll help her become distracted from depressing thoughts or memories, you never know." Mandy said patting my arm and smiling.
"Hey Lisa, what did you get on that World History test that we had on Monday?" My other friend and classmate Eric Lawson asked.
Eric and I had always been in at least one class together since starting high school. To be honest when I first met him during freshman year I thought he was a total lame, nerdy, guy, but since then I consider him one of my best friends, and not a bad tutor at times either. Not to mention he had truly grown out of his very boyish look. With now being a senior year in high school, he had become very tall, with broader shoulders, with long, thick, almost black, hair that he was always brushing over to the side because of covering his glasses, not to mention the thin layer of dark facial hair that he was now sporting.
"Yeah I got a ninety-two on it, I thought I was going to Ace it, but I just couldn't remember all the definitions. What did you get?"
"Oh bummer, yeah they were kind of tricky, I got a ninety-eight on it. Mr. Poloski took off for spelling, can you believe that? He just didn't want someone to get a one hundred, in my opinion." He said as he rolled dark brown eyes at me and smirked.
I smiled and agreed before turning back to Mandy to confirm weekend plans. "We are still going to the mall on Saturday right? I have to find a dress for graduation."
"Yeah, but I can't go until after two, I gotta do chores first." Mandy said with a little bit of annoyance in her voice.
Seconds later the school bell rung loudly, making not only myself, but making Mandy and Eric jump as well at the sound. Part of me just wanted to make a run for it, anything to go to another day of school, to actually play hookie like normal high school kids. Then there was the nerd part of me that couldn't wait to get to my seat to see what we will be learning today, and to also see just how many more points I needed to beat Eric and become valedictorian, we were only just several points away, and every grade counted.
"See y’all later" I said loudly to my group of friends over the noise of the crowd, as we all parted ways for our first period classes.
My first class was always my favorite, AP English. I loved the teacher who taught it, Mrs. Schumacker, and everything that we did in there. In my opinion it was my strongest subject, and always seemed to fly by. However it was my not so great second period class, AP World History, that I couldn't stand, and it seemed that it lasted forever.
"Morning folks." Mr. Poloski greeted all of us in his somewhat southern accent as he handed out late test papers. Mr. Poloski, in a way reminded me of the actor who played the librarian in the television show “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, but with more hair. He was tall with light brown, short hair, and seemed to be in pretty good shape for being a teacher.
I looked around to see Eric who was in the row next to mine, and just smiled slightly making a face of disgust about the class. We both laughed softly before turning our attention back towards the teacher who was writing a new assignment on the board.
As I began copying down the words that were on the dry-erase board, Mr. Poloski began saying, "Alright folks, today is going to be a semi-light day. We are going to go over your next assignment, which is really going to be your end of the year senior project for this class."
I groaned softly with several other students, I hated the phrase "end of the year senior project", it always meant that it was going to take forever, and usually count significantly on the final grade. I just hoped it wasn't going to be too hard, because this was the only class that kept me from having a straight 4.0 GPA and from beating Eric by taking the title Valedictorian.
"Okay so this past semester we've talked about many different governments, civilizations of countries around the world, but for this final stretch I'm going to try something a little different than what I normally did with my previous students. This year, I want to learn history through you all." Mr. Poloski explained.
"Every single person in this room is living History, they are history, whether they know it or not," he continued. "Your assignment is to find out as much as you can about your family ancestry and history. Look up names, where they’re from, what was the time era, how civilization and the government were different then from now. I want you to write a paper. It needs to be thorough and as accurate as possible. You'll be surprise at who you may be related to, and for some, this assignment will be one that may end up changing your life and may change how you view life forever." He said as he smiled at all of us, his eyes stopping at mine.
I thought about that last sentence, “…this assignment will be one that may end up changing your life and the way you view life forever." Why would it change my life, I knew most of my family history, we were from England and Russia, why do I really want to know anymore about it?
"This will be due on the last week of exams, no late papers will be accepted, and please no making up stories either, make this paper count, because if you think about it, all this assignment is, is learning who you really are. Now, you can take the rest of the class and go to the library and start searching for books and other materials that you might need. I will be here for any questions or if you need help. Class dismissed." Mr. Poloski said as he turned to clean off the board.
"Wow, is that it? That's class?" I asked Eric, with a surprised look on my face.
"Yeah, I guess so, wow and we still have an hour left in class until lunch. I don't think I've ever gotten out of class this early.
"Well, are you going to go to the library? I need to, since I have no idea where to start with my family." I replied as I packed up my book-bag and stood up.
"Yeah I'll go, my grandparents have most of our family history in their attics, I was just going to go interview them this weekend, and get most of the information that way. What about you? Don't your grandparents have anything about their family history in their attic?"
"I don't know, everything that was my grandparents' is up in our attic at home, but it's not much, and from what I was told when I was little, my family came over to America with very little. I would ask my great grandmamma, but I doubt she'd understand what I'm saying."
"Oh yeah she only speaks Russian. Man that blows. Well good luck with that then." He chuckled as we started heading out the door towards the library to start the assignment.
The Assignment
Present Day
Good morning all you early birds, it's time to rise and shine to the hottest radio station in the Carolinas. Today is going to be another hot one, as the summer season is just around the corner, with a high of ninety-seven with a humidity of ninety-eight.
I pulled my arm back underneath my warm covers as I turned over in the bed after shutting off my alarm clock, attempting to sleep a little longer. Thinking in my mind, Okay just five more minutes, and then I have to get up or I'm going to be late, five more minutes that’s not too much to ask for. As I closed my eyes to try to get back to the amazing dream that I was having of me becoming prom queen, something that had never in my life happened, however that’s what made the dream so much sweeter. Despite me having great friends, a girl like me, the school’s second in line of becoming valedictorian wasn't ever in a million years going to be voted prom queen, at least not outside of the movies.
"Lisa, are you awake yet? We're leaving in thirty minutes!" I heard my mother calling from the bottom of the stairs.
"Mom, I'm not going to school today, I'm sick." I tried to lie to her, even providing the couple of fake coughs, really not wanting to go to school today.
"Lisa, you are not sick, now come on get up. If I have to come up there and check on you then you are grounded. Now move!" She said in her already stressed voice.
I didn't see why I needed to go to school today. It wasn't like I never went, in fact out of all twelve years of school from K-12 I've only missed one day, and that was when both my grandmother and grandfather had passed away when I was in third grade. Besides, it's also not really going to affect my grades at all if I miss a test or a quiz or even anything. I had straight A's. Okay that's a lie, I had all A's and one B, and the B was in stupid World History.
I just didn't see why we needed to know about World History when I am perfectly fine with living in America. Yet, here I was a senior in high school in the next to last month of the semester. I had already planned on where I was going to in the fall which was the University of Southern California. I wanted to get away from here as much as possible, to be able to live out a care-free life. Sure, the school was one of the best in North America, which was probably the only reason why my mother bought the whole idea, but the real reason that I choose it was because it was on the opposite side of the country and no one was going to tell me when to study or give me grief about not being disciplined. In fact, I pretty much plan on partying and slacking off the entire first semester, at least enjoying not being expected to make all A’s for once in my life.
"Lisa, ten minutes!" My mom called from downstairs.
Crap! I'm so going to be late; I thought as I swung my covers off and jumped out of bed heading for my clothes and the bathroom.
Ugh, today was going to be another hot and humid spring day. Which I don't even think you can call it spring when it's as hot as summer, but that's just my opinion. As I looked in the mirror, to decide if I even wanted to put on my makeup all I could see was a young, girl with deep blue eyes, the hair the color of dark auburn, the creamy light tan skin from laying out all the time, and the lips that held many secrets of the longings I desired, I wasn't the ugliest girl in school, but I was certainly not the prettiest, at least not in my opinion. I took a deep breath, as I was preparing myself for today, okay only eight hours and then I can be free of boredom; I coached myself.
"Lisa, we need to leave now. Come on." My mom said impatiently.
“Coming!” I quickly shouted back. I quickly ran the brush through my hair before grabbing my book-bag and rushing down the stairs and out the door to our gold and red minivan.
Gosh, I couldn't wait to get a car for graduation. I was hoping to get one for my eighteenth birthday back in December, hoping that it would be a fun birthday/early Christmas gift. Yet, received nothing like that. It really sucked too, because I was seriously one of the only seniors that didn't have a car, and had to be dropped off everyday like every underclassman. Even my best friend Mandy Johnson, who had a car, chose to take pity on me and ride to school every day with her parents.
"Oh Lisa, you look pretty today." My mom smiled as I jumped into the van, she always said that.
"Thanks mom, but its okay to tell me the truth, I really do look like crap. I didn't have time to really get dressed." I replied.
"And whose fault is that?" My mom said in her knowing all voice.
"Mom, I know, I know." I decided to not give her the whole didn't have to go to school speech. It would just end up depressing me and her when it would turn into, “Your father would've wanted you to go..." speech.
I looked at my mother; it was crazy to have thought that I even had a Father. I mean I know I did, but I never knew him. He had died shortly after I was born while he was stationed over in Iraq during the Gulf War, and yet my mother never remarried. I guess it was a good thing, because I would've had to approve of the new dad want-a-be, and I don't think anyone could fill the spot of which my mom took over all the time. My mom and I were close, even though at times I wish she would just give me my space, but she was my best friend. Sure I had other friends from school and church, but my mom knew everything about me and my life.
As we approached school, I could see my group of friends waiting by our normal spot by the wall. Okay maybe today won't be so bad. Only eight hours of boring lectures and then I'm home-free for the rest of the day. I thought to myself.
"Now remember, after school we are going to the nursing home to visit Nunna." My mother reminded me as I started to get out of the car.
"Aww mom, do I have to? It's the same boring thing over and over again. We just sit there. No one says anything, and she just stares out the window in her bed. Can't you just go instead of me?" I whined.
Okay I know I was being a brat, people should love visiting family, but this was different. My great grandmamma didn't speak a word of English. I don't even know if she knew any English, she only spoke Russian, which I was fortunate to learn growing up. I wasn't very fluent, but I could get by for a while if I ever had to visit Russia...which would be never. Only my mom and my grandmamma could really carry on conversations with her. Yet, when my father passed away she had quit talking all together. But Mom always insisted that we went every week on Thursday to visit.
"Now, Lisa, she's very old. She doesn't have much longer, I'm really surprised she's been alive this long, but you need to visit her. You don't really know her all that well; maybe you two could actually talk, because next week you're going to have to go on your own." My mom said.
"What? Why? Why can't you be there?" I asked with wide eyes. How could my mom leave me alone with a woman who has shown no interest in me all of my life? And I could barely talk to.
"Hunny, I'm sorry I need to go out of town for a business trip. This is when we make the most money for the year, and with graduation around the corner, we need to make sure you have everything for next semester." She said.
"Ugh, fine. I know, I know. I need to go see you later." I replied as I slammed the door.
While walking towards my small group of friends, I caught the eye of my best friend Mandy Johnson, who gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing that I'd just had one out with my mom.
Mandy and I had been best friends all of my life, our mothers were best friends at church, and she lived in the neighborhood next to ours. She was always one of those cheerleaders, dancer, always graceful, and always smiled, type of girls. When we were little, our mothers swore they couldn't tell us apart when we were on the playground. We both had long, dark, auburn hair and the same body shape, but nowadays Mandy was sporting new bright blonde highlights, which I’d, admit just suited her crazy fun personality.
"Hey Lisa, and how are we this morning?" Mandy said with a curious look.
"Ugh, late, not wanting to be here because it's another boring school day and there's not going to be any new material that we are covering today, and plus my mom just reminded me that we are going to see my great grandmamma at the nursing home today after school." I said as I leaned against the wall.
"Ouch, she's still alive?"
"Yeah, but she might as well not be, she never talks, she just stares out the window or up at the ceiling. Oh and to make matters worse, I have to go by myself next week, since my mom is going out of town again." I said with a groan. Again, I know I was being really whinny and bratty, but I didn't see the point of me going somewhere, where no one says anything, and when I do try to put some effort into the visit I always get awkward smiles from my mother or the nurse that usually comes in. She doesn't want to be there, I don't want to be there, it seems logical to just make us both happy and for me to just not go, in my opinion.
"I'm sure it's not going to be that bad. I'm sure deep down she loves the company, she's been through a lot right? Maybe with you just talking nonsense it'll help her become distracted from depressing thoughts or memories, you never know." Mandy said patting my arm and smiling.
"Hey Lisa, what did you get on that World History test that we had on Monday?" My other friend and classmate Eric Lawson asked.
Eric and I had always been in at least one class together since starting high school. To be honest when I first met him during freshman year I thought he was a total lame, nerdy, guy, but since then I consider him one of my best friends, and not a bad tutor at times either. Not to mention he had truly grown out of his very boyish look. With now being a senior year in high school, he had become very tall, with broader shoulders, with long, thick, almost black, hair that he was always brushing over to the side because of covering his glasses, not to mention the thin layer of dark facial hair that he was now sporting.
"Yeah I got a ninety-two on it, I thought I was going to Ace it, but I just couldn't remember all the definitions. What did you get?"
"Oh bummer, yeah they were kind of tricky, I got a ninety-eight on it. Mr. Poloski took off for spelling, can you believe that? He just didn't want someone to get a one hundred, in my opinion." He said as he rolled dark brown eyes at me and smirked.
I smiled and agreed before turning back to Mandy to confirm weekend plans. "We are still going to the mall on Saturday right? I have to find a dress for graduation."
"Yeah, but I can't go until after two, I gotta do chores first." Mandy said with a little bit of annoyance in her voice.
Seconds later the school bell rung loudly, making not only myself, but making Mandy and Eric jump as well at the sound. Part of me just wanted to make a run for it, anything to go to another day of school, to actually play hookie like normal high school kids. Then there was the nerd part of me that couldn't wait to get to my seat to see what we will be learning today, and to also see just how many more points I needed to beat Eric and become valedictorian, we were only just several points away, and every grade counted.
"See y’all later" I said loudly to my group of friends over the noise of the crowd, as we all parted ways for our first period classes.
My first class was always my favorite, AP English. I loved the teacher who taught it, Mrs. Schumacker, and everything that we did in there. In my opinion it was my strongest subject, and always seemed to fly by. However it was my not so great second period class, AP World History, that I couldn't stand, and it seemed that it lasted forever.
"Morning folks." Mr. Poloski greeted all of us in his somewhat southern accent as he handed out late test papers. Mr. Poloski, in a way reminded me of the actor who played the librarian in the television show “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, but with more hair. He was tall with light brown, short hair, and seemed to be in pretty good shape for being a teacher.
I looked around to see Eric who was in the row next to mine, and just smiled slightly making a face of disgust about the class. We both laughed softly before turning our attention back towards the teacher who was writing a new assignment on the board.
As I began copying down the words that were on the dry-erase board, Mr. Poloski began saying, "Alright folks, today is going to be a semi-light day. We are going to go over your next assignment, which is really going to be your end of the year senior project for this class."
I groaned softly with several other students, I hated the phrase "end of the year senior project", it always meant that it was going to take forever, and usually count significantly on the final grade. I just hoped it wasn't going to be too hard, because this was the only class that kept me from having a straight 4.0 GPA and from beating Eric by taking the title Valedictorian.
"Okay so this past semester we've talked about many different governments, civilizations of countries around the world, but for this final stretch I'm going to try something a little different than what I normally did with my previous students. This year, I want to learn history through you all." Mr. Poloski explained.
"Every single person in this room is living History, they are history, whether they know it or not," he continued. "Your assignment is to find out as much as you can about your family ancestry and history. Look up names, where they’re from, what was the time era, how civilization and the government were different then from now. I want you to write a paper. It needs to be thorough and as accurate as possible. You'll be surprise at who you may be related to, and for some, this assignment will be one that may end up changing your life and may change how you view life forever." He said as he smiled at all of us, his eyes stopping at mine.
I thought about that last sentence, “…this assignment will be one that may end up changing your life and the way you view life forever." Why would it change my life, I knew most of my family history, we were from England and Russia, why do I really want to know anymore about it?
"This will be due on the last week of exams, no late papers will be accepted, and please no making up stories either, make this paper count, because if you think about it, all this assignment is, is learning who you really are. Now, you can take the rest of the class and go to the library and start searching for books and other materials that you might need. I will be here for any questions or if you need help. Class dismissed." Mr. Poloski said as he turned to clean off the board.
"Wow, is that it? That's class?" I asked Eric, with a surprised look on my face.
"Yeah, I guess so, wow and we still have an hour left in class until lunch. I don't think I've ever gotten out of class this early.
"Well, are you going to go to the library? I need to, since I have no idea where to start with my family." I replied as I packed up my book-bag and stood up.
"Yeah I'll go, my grandparents have most of our family history in their attics, I was just going to go interview them this weekend, and get most of the information that way. What about you? Don't your grandparents have anything about their family history in their attic?"
"I don't know, everything that was my grandparents' is up in our attic at home, but it's not much, and from what I was told when I was little, my family came over to America with very little. I would ask my great grandmamma, but I doubt she'd understand what I'm saying."
"Oh yeah she only speaks Russian. Man that blows. Well good luck with that then." He chuckled as we started heading out the door towards the library to start the assignment.