Katya Kovalík, along with many other girls were only six when they disappeared. One night they were peacefully sleeping in their beds, the next they were gone.
It happened the same evening of the first snow. The powdery white substance fresh on the frozen ground.
Girls, nearly seven, hurried home, their ballet flats making small indents in the ground. Their freshly gelled buns becoming slick with perspiration. Several of the girls stopped to enjoy the snow. Small tongues peeking out of mouths as graceful snow flakes fell from the heavens.
Katya however kept her head down, her ballet bag slung over her shoulder. She picked at her bun, stray hairs coming loose from their bobby pins. Her mother had worked hard making the bun perfect. A total of fifteen minutes taken out of her mother's schedule to please her dance instructor.
However it was not in vein. After being chosen for a solo performance in class the young girl was ecstatic. Her peers however shared a completely different opinion. With their noses in the air, the girls who were not chosen pointed their toes in a different direction. Turning their back on their old friend just like that.
Her teacher had complimented her on her technique. A visitor pointing her out to her instructor. The six year old beamed underneath their praise. Her cheeks stretching to the point of pain as she listened to their compliments intently. But now she was the odd one. Her spectacular form resulting in her lonely tread home.
The snow was light that evening, as it always was on the first day. Today however the air felt different. A thick tension floating beneath the clouds. Looming right above the short children's heads.
Katya could sense it as she got farther from her friends. They had barely noticed her departure. Left to her own devices, Katya took to humming her favorite tune. It was a simple rhythmic pattern. Easily mimicked by marching soldiers, which frequently traveled through the near by town.
Nearing her home, the black haired girl had yet to notice the figure following merely twenty paces behind.
Even as she closed the metal gated door behind herself the young girl refused to acknowledge a presence besides her own.
The figure stopped at the gate. Only their eyes following Katya's ascent to her complex door.
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[kAH-t ih-uh]
[Kova-lik]
not edited
YOU ARE READING
Red Room
Fanfiction"It gives me strength to have somebody else to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill." Based off Marvel's Red Room Short Story Quote: Emilie Autumn The Asylum of Wayward Girls
