Above:A Formal Picture Of Anastasia 1914
"My name is Anya Pavlovitch i am an emigrant from Moscow,Russia" I told the guard at customs it was what the Bolsheviks told me to say or else they would kill me. My name is not Anya Pavlovitch it's Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova i desperately wanted to say,But i couldn't or the Bolsheviks would kill me.They sent me to New York because it's such a huge city and nobody would mind me,Besides there have already been impostors of me,Which is absolute baloney because these people look nothing of me."You're Through" The guard said "Thank you Sir" I replied with a mischievous wink.Being silly was just my way of coping through my grief for now and besides i had no time to grieve now i had to find a job somehow and a place to stay.Then once i get enough money i can get to Crimea to see Grand mama.And that's when i can grieve.I Slowly walked down the streets of a place called Manhattan just trying to find a cheap place to stay for a while.Finally i came to a place called'Mrs. Hollingway's Room And Board' "Well it looks respectable and maybe she can help me find a job as well" i said aloud to myself.Once i got inside i immediately saw that it was not as respectable as it looked from the outside.It was worn down and there was coughing and soot everywhere.Before i could leave a woman came up to me who i assumed was Mrs. Hollingway "Hello child what can i do for you today?" She said in a crinkly old voice."I was just looking ma'am' I replied bravely. Then the old woman grabbed my arm.Tight."You don't want to stay at this fine establishment?" She said. I could hear her temper rising in her voice. "No ma'am i was just looking for someone" I replied almost breathlessly.Her grip tightened on my arm. "I'll be out of your hair now" i reply frightfully i'm almost shaking at this point "Yes you have pretty hair my dear" she said almost in a cackle "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I CUT IT OFF" I shrieked and ran out the door as the old woman cackled behind me as i ran.I eventually got to a fountain and sat down there. I don't now how anything works in the real world,I've never even been to america before. I think to myself. "Excuse me Miss" Someone says in a honey-like tone "Yes" i say and i look up and there is a boy around my age "I heard you were looking for somebody" he says "I'm sorry i was looking for a cheap place to stay and she wouldn't let me go so i just lied" i shrugged.Why am i telling all this to him? i thought to myself. "Well i might have a cheap place for you to stay"
YOU ARE READING
We 7 Forever
Ficción históricaWhat if the story of the Romanovs Execution is false? What if it never happened at all? Just Bolshevik Propaganda. Told from the Romanovs Perspective.
