Anastasia Novelization

Rumor in St. Petersberg

The shadows return as they often do at night. I stand as if in a trance arm in arm with three girls beside me. Laughing and giggling we skip down a dark hallway towards the end where a small light peaks from the cracks in a door. It's all so familiar and real. It all disappears and in its place a large room with whirling couples in white. The spirits spin around me in a blur looking down I myself am dressed in a gown I could never truly own. A man reaches for my hand and then it all it delves into the horror. Screams engulf me and the flames follow. "Paris." The whisper is the only thing to take away. There's a shot and I shudder in on myself.

"Anya!" I feel the shake of someone pushing on my shoulder. I wake the same way I always do. I'm panicked, though I can't quite remember why. "You were screaming in your sleep again." The whisper comes from Natasha, there really is no reason to whisper I'd awakened the whole floor. 

"I'm sorry it just happens." She sits herself on the edge of my bed as I sit up. 

"Do you remember anything this time... besides..."

"Besides Paris?" I shake my head and push back the covers. "You know I never do." I shove my feet into my shoes and leave her there. I hate being so cold to her. She was, after all, helping me stay in this house with the other women, and she may be gone any day. She'd made plans to get out long ago and it was becoming more and more evident that the inevitable was coming to be true. My only friend I'd made may be gone when I returned this evening. I sigh and roll my eyes It's just not remembering seconds after the fact is straining especially with all this nonsense of the youngest Romanov princess surviving. How anyone could or would want to believe something like that is beyond me. I shove my fingers deep into my pockets as I enter the cold morning of Leningrad.

I'm quickly engulfed by the ever present crowds of people looking for work, looking for food. I was a lucky one. I'd been here just under three months and already had a job and a place to stay. I'd arrived nearly dead on the street after walking three months with minimal nuritiousment. I had collapsed on a side street unable to move any further. I was found a few minutes later by a Bolshevik General. Gleb had carried me to his own office where I was given food and hot tea. I'd been offered a job in the Soviet office, but I will never work for their kind, no matter how desperate I may become. Despite his obvious disappointment he was kind enough to help me get my job and find Ms. Bartok's home to stay.

I often saw the general on the streets as I swept but he never approached me again. I watched nearly everyday as he and his men executed or took rumored traitors away.  His good deed towards me to prove to himself that his cause is just was the only one he needed evidently. Even now as I keep my head down to my work I see him wandering through the thinning crowd. All the whispers of the lost monarchy have slowly ebbed back into the silence I've come accustomed to here. "I need to get to out of here." I whisper to myself as I look at the dull grayness of it all. One wrong word could spell the end of a life here in Leningrad.

I take a deep breath and begin to sweep again. The only way out of here is with money and the only way to get money was to work. I lock myself away to my own work not paying much mind to anything else. I'm able to do this for the majority of my day. It had never cost me before but today it would. There's a loud pop behind me awakening me from my inner palace. I throw myself to the ground covering my head. I feel myself shake and even though no more shots follow I lay with my arms covering my head. I open my eyes as the regular sounds of the streets fill my ears. Peeking out I see a black boot. Looking up I stare right into the eyes of a cold stranger. He yanks me to my feet and latches onto my arm. He begins to question me but I can't respond to him because my ears have begun to ring with gunfire again. In another moment there's a steadying hand on my shoulder. "It was just a car backfiring comrade. That's all it was. Those days are over, neighbor against neighbor." Gleb had come to my rescue yet again. He signals his compatriots to leave. With a salute my accuser turns on his heal back into the crowd. Gleb turns back to me, "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore." He touches my arm lightly, "You're shaking. There's a tea shop just steps from here. Let me-."

I cut him off my heart beating fast. Frankly I'm terrified. I try to answer but no sound comes out so I look down and try to reach for my broom on the floor. He steps on it ever so lightly. "What's your hurry?" He asks, there's no threat to it, but being questioned by any man in his uniform was cause for alarm these days.

I continue to look down, not wanting to make eye contact. "I can't lose this job, they're not easy to come by." It takes a moment but he moves his foot off. I stand wanting to move away quickly but I lift my eyes to meet his just once. "Thank you." I say as I quickly walk away.

"I'm here everyday." He yells after me, but he knows I knew that. 

"I have to get out of here." I whisper to myself again making myself sprint down the street as soon as I'm out of sight of the square and Gleb's men. I slip into an ally and lean against the building catching my breath. That had been the closest encounter yet, too close. I had no clue who I was or why I was for that matter. My only true reason for being here was so that I could leave the country and I'm sure that wouldn't bode well with a Bolshevik. The train station was on the way to the house, perhaps, just perhaps there might be the slightest opportunity to sneak out. I drop my broom in the ally not caring to return back to work just for a few pieces. I compose myself and shake off the confrontation before smoothing my hair down and normalizing my walking pace. I slip back into the crowd of people returning to their home lives after a long day of work. 

Pushing through the large crowd of people I reach the front booth. It's empty. Men and women stand around some sounding terrified others annoyed. My heart sinks. They'd slowly been closing the borders since I'd started my journey here and this just confirms it... I turn to flee to where I don't know but then I feel a tug on my wrist, I turn expecting a fight but It's Natasha. I see the look on her face and know that we need to leave. She slips an arm over my shoulders and we quietly find our way from the crowd we huddle together out of sight. Once we make sure we're alone we begin to speak. "What happened?" I ask. She looks rather panicked.

"I was going to leave. I was there, I'd hidden myself aboard but then before we could move an entire group of them boarded and started to throw people off... Anya they've closed nearly all the borders."

"You had a way out! You're an honest woman surely you had the papers?" 

"It was all of them. Women and children too."

My hand flies to my mouth. "They didn't..." Fearing the worst I await Natasha's answer.

"They just took them away. There isn't a way out, not anymore." I'd never seen this woman rattled let alone terrified. "They're only letting out special trains now, they get special permission from the top. Anya I'm sorry."

I hold my head up. "You can't be sorry just for me. We will find a way to get out of here."

The sound of boots on the pavement just around the corner silences us and we press ourselves against the wall. The man walks past and out of sight just as the riot sounds from the station travel to where we stand. "My name was on that passenger list, people saw me. I'm going south. There's a group from our house leaving... tonight."

"Where will you go?"

She shrugs. "We're escaping. You can come, once we're out Paris could be real for you."

"It's too risky." I say.

"So is staying here." 

"I can't." South wasn't to Paris, South was towards more red and more suffering. She suddenly stands very tall as if she's a little disappointed. 

"You shouldn't go back to the house tonight Anya. They'll be looking for me there." 

"Where do I go then?"

She smiles gently then. "Paris." She reaches for my left hand thinking for a moment then she has a realization. "There's a man named Dimitri... He's living in the old palace. He's helped friends of mine before if anyone can help you it's him." I nod my head. I had stayed away from the boarded up symbol of freedom the entire time I'd stayed here but terrified as I am I'll take any chance I can. She squeezes my hand once more before disappearing into the shadows. Suddenly I am alone, and though I often am this time It feels different. Looking up the street I can see the tops of the ruined palace towering over the rooftops. I feel drawn to it, for the first time I study the spires and see the beauty and the color of it contrasting against the gray sky.

"Paris." I say stepping out one foot at a time. "Paris."