Six Days || WW3 Story of Katya Petrov

Six Days Before the First Bomb

December 25th, 1953 | Katya's P.O.V

Nineteen-fifty-four! It is coming so soon! I think there are six more days until New Years Day and I am six years old! Mama said the riots are really bad. 

Auntie Tama (short for Tamara!) got me my very own radio! She told me to stay updated on the Book Talks. Auntie Tama really wants me to become an author one day but I want to become an actress instead. Everyone at school wants to be an actress/or actor! If I have the same desire, maybe Kalei or Elikapeka will let me into the popular group! They are both Hawaiian girls who used to live on a beautiful beach! I have an imaginary friend named Adiba. I have only three friends at school. They all know English and four other languages, including Russian! Sometimes they teach me English but I hate it. Privet means "hello" in English. I still refuse to at least attempt to pronounce it correctly. My friend Jemila went missing three days before Winter Break. I shouldn't have listened in, but I heard my parents say she escaped warzone. I have no idea what they mean.

Uncle Jabbar kissed my forehead and whispered in Russian, Merry Christmas.

I hate when anyone kisses me. Uncle Jabbar and Auntie Tama have the most slobbery kisses in the world, it's disgusting! Mama is a good kisser according to Papa. Papa doesn't kiss me. He is too busy with work. Of course, I am only six, I have never had my first kiss - but one day I will!

December 25th, 1953 | Agrafena's P.O.V (Katya's Mother)

My brother Jabbar kissed Katya on the forehead and whispered something to her. I couldn't hold back the laugh when she made such a silly look on her face - it was priceless! I checked the time on my watch and saw it was 8:33 PM. I ran to the radio in Katya's room to listen for anything important. Yes, there was something on it. 

Six days until Russia will finalize their decision - if Russia chooses to start a war, America will throw a bomb over Moscow and kill us. We all secretly know that Russia wants to start the war but everyone tries to cover up their thoughts. The first bomb is headed towards Moscow and will land near a highly populated area, says an American.

I stop listening. Two days ago my Mother called me offering to take in Katya. She will pay for the guide to take her there. I refused and told her Katya will be safe. But maybe she won't, and maybe she needs a little more protection. My Mother's name is Kirochka. She lives in France with an ex-police officer named Minah. I thought for a moment. Katya will be much safer with a strong young woman and her own relative by her side 24/7 rather than with me and her Papa in a bombed home 24/7. I picked up the phone. "Kirochka, the next bomb is coming for me and my family. Take care of my child! Please! Katya needs you and I regret saying everything I said."

"Yes, I will hire a guide. I forgive you. Katya is my only granddaughter, I need to take care of her like I took care of you. Send her outside after the first bomb goes off in six days."

I wish Kirochka didn't say yes. It will be hard to have only five seconds to say goodbye to the only child you gave birth to. I ran to the living room and hugged Katya. She was clueless. Maybe I can make these six days be my goodbye to her. I looked her in the eyes. "Krasivaya," I whispered. She gulped. "Spasibo." 

It felt like she knew everything, but inside I knew she was not even a tad suspicious. She couldn't understand the man on the radio most of the time anyways - he spoke a lot of English. Fedyenka wanted Katya to speak anything but English. I told him it was silly but I let him teach her Russian as a first language anyway. Her first word was Mama. Her most recent word was Spasibo, which means Thank you.

If she doesn't survive this, I wonder what her last word will be.