Anastasia Nicholaievna Romanov
July 15, 1918
Alexei’s sobbing is what wakes me.
I hear his soft crying and the even softer words of Mama as she tries to comfort him.
I feel tears stinging my eyes and even though I am alone except for my sister Maria, who is asleep, I fight them back. I have to be strong for mama and papa, I think to myself.
I turn over on my side so I am facing the wall. The hard camp cot underneath me is comforting; it reminds me of being back home in the palace.
Papa had insisted that none of his children would be spoiled; we would be hard working and disciplined. So we slept on camp cots with no pillows, we made our own beds and we had cold showers in the morning.
Even Alexei who is sick with haemophilia was expected to follow this regimen. My poor little brother, he is so weak and even though he is the youngest child in the family, he is the only boy and so the heir to the throne of Russia.
“Shvibzik, are you awake?” Maria asks.
I lift my head and see that Maria has her arms propped up on her arms and is looking at me with sad eyes. “Did he wake you?” I ask.
Maria shook her head. “I didn’t sleep,” she replies.
I sit up and wrap my blanket more tightly around me. “Maria, do you think they will kill us?”
Maria’s eyes harden with fear but after a moment the fear gives way to sadness. “Honestly Ana, I don’t know... Mama and Papa seem to think that is our fate but if they were going to kill us wouldn’t they have done it already?”
I open my mouth to reply but at that moment, my oldest sisters Tatiana and Olga appear in the doorway.
“Hush,” Olga whispers. “Don’t let Mama or Papa hear you talking about such things.”
Maria and I nod.
Tatiana sits down on my cot and wraps her arms around me. “Don’t worry,” she reassures me. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I lean my head on my sister’s shoulder, grateful for her warmth. I know Tatiana doesn’t believe what she says; she’s just trying to comfort me.
“Anastasia, Maria are you awake?” Mama’s voice comes in from the hall.
“Yes Mama,” I reply.
After a moment Mama appears in the doorway. “Oh there you are,” she says to Tatiana and Olga. “I went to wake you, but you weren’t there. Do you girls want to go for a walk out in the garden?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Olga replies.
“It will be good for Alexei to get some fresh air,” Mama comments and a look of concern crosses her face. “He’s so weak,” she whispers and a tear falls down her cheek.
Olga takes a step toward Mama but at that moment, Papa materializes in the doorway behind Mama.
Papa wraps his arm around Mama’s waist and smiles sadly at his daughters. “I know being here is hard but we would do well to remember that our lives are in the hands of these Bolsheviks,” his voice is soft and sympathetic as he murmurs these words.
“Papa, we’re never going back to St. Petersburg are we?” Tatiana’s asks, her voice shaking.
“God willing we may one day, my daughter,” Papa whispers.
Mama takes a deep breath. “Why are we discussing such gloomy topics? The sun is shining, there’s no use in wasting such a beautiful day.”
Tatiana and Olga go to their room to change into their day dresses, Mama and Papa go to Alexei’s room to care for him while Maria and I change out of our nightgowns.
Once both Maria and I are changed, we go to meet Tatiana and Olga outside their room. We walk down the steps and out to the garden.
Outside we meet Yurovsky the head of the Bolsheviks who are stationed here to guard us. “Morning ladies,” he greets us in his thick accent. “You are looking well.”
We all curtsy to him as we pass and Olga leads us to the edge of the garden.
“Shvibzik,” Olga calls to me. I walk over to my older sister and she places her hands on my shoulders. “Are you alright?” she asks sympathetically.
For the first time since we came to Yekaterinburg I allow tears to fall down my cheeks. “I’m so scared,” I whisper. “I’m terrified that they’ll kill us or that they’ll only kill Mama and Papa and sell the rest of us as slaves, and what about Alexei...” I trail off as I begin to lose my breath.
Olga pulls me into a tight hug and allows me to cry for a few moments. “Hush,” she finally whispers. “Everything is going to be alright.”
I look up at my sister through my tears and though tears are choking me, I manage to murmur, “Do you honestly believe that?”
Olga smiles, the first real smile I have seen since we left St. Petersburg. “No, but that’s my problem. You should believe it.”
“Why?”
“So you’ll see that life isn’t all that bad,” Olga laughs. “Like Mama said, there’s no use in worrying, it won’t get us anywhere. Look,” Olga gestures to the sky and the green countryside on the other side of the fence. “The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the grass is green, we are alive and we are together. What more do you want?”
Safety, I think to myself, safety and a certain future. I don’t speak these words aloud; Olga’s right they won’t do anyone any good. “You’re right,” I say softly.
“Good,” Olga replies. She plants a kiss on the top of my head before walking over to sit beside Tatiana and Maria on a garden bench.
I turn toward the fence and I place my hands on the metal bars. The summers are so beautiful here in Russia, but they are so short, winter is the season that dominates Russia. Though the white landscape holds its own beauty, I prefer the warm embrace of the summer sun to the icy talons of the winter wind.
“The summers were always so beautiful in England,” a voice behind me makes me start but I soon relax as Mama comes to stand beside me. “Grandmother would always take me out on walks on the palace grounds.”
Mama’s grandmother, my great-grandmother is Queen Victoria of England. It was for this reason that the people of Russia thought that Mama was not completely loyal to them and to their country.
“Mama, why did you leave England?” I ask curiously. “The people of Russia don’t trust you and life would have been so much easier for you if you had stayed in England.”
She turns her gaze on me and her eyes are so full of love that I find that the knot of worry and panic that had been tight in my chest begins to ease. “I loved your father; he meant more to me than anything. There were many who opposed our marriage, my own grandmother did not hide her dislike of our imminent union but she did not object when we were married,” Mama explains.
“Your heart lies in England doesn’t it Mama?”
Mama looks away from me and out at the countryside. Taking a deep breath she looks back at me. “No Anastasia my heart is here with our family. England will always hold a place in my heart because that is where I was born. Russia is my home now and my heart lies here.”
Is it me you’re trying to convince, I think to myself, or yourself?
Later that day, my siblings and I are sitting in Alexei’s bedroom; he and I are on the bed while Maria, Tatiana and Olga sit on the floor.
“Where are Mama and Papa?” Alexei asks weakly.
“Out in the garden I expect,” Tatiana answers. “They wanted to talk alone, something about-”
“Never mind what they wanted to talk about,” Olga says quickly, shooting a glare at Tatiana.
Tears spring into Alexei’s eyes and I know that he knows Mama and Papa wanted to talk about him and how worried they are that he will die here.
“How are you feeling Alexei?” Maria asks to fill the awkward silence.
Alexei put on a brave smile. “Better,” he answers. “The walk outside in the garden did do me some good.”
“I’m glad,” Marie answers with a kind smile.
We all sit in silence and I find myself thinking of home, the castle in St. Petersburg. The room that I shared with Maria and an empty feeling fills my chest. Stop it, I think to myself. Wishing for home won’t make my situation any better.
I pull myself out of my reverie and turn to gaze at my younger brother. “What are you thinking about Alexei?”
Alexei looks out the window almost wistfully. “Home,” he answers simply.
“We all are,” Olga says getting to her feet. She comes over and sits on the other side of Alexei. “You are a one of the bravest boys I know Alexei and you would have been an Emperor Russia would have proud of.”
Alexei glows at this praise and I finally realize that my oldest sister, the one I have looked to for guidance most of my life knows we are going to die.
That night I sleep fitfully, fear clutches at my chest, making my dreams, nightmares.
“Anastasia, Maria, get up now,” a voice calls.
I sit bolt upright as Maria, from somewhere in the darkness murmurs groggily, “Papa?”
There’s the strike of a match and I see the faint silhouette of Papa holding a candlestick. His face is white with fear and his eyes are dark with sadness.
“Yes,” he says urgently. “Get up and get changed. The Bolsheviks want us down in the cellar.”
At the mention of our captors, both Maria and I jump out of bed and scramble around for our dresses in the dark.
Once we are ready, Papa leads us out into the hall where Yurovsky is waiting.
“All ready?” he asks harshly. “Good, come with me.” He leads us down the stairs to the cellar at the very bottom of the house.
Mama, Olga Tatiana and Alexei are already there.
“Line up for a picture,” Yurovsky commands.
Papa looks at him quizzically. “Why?”
“There have been rumors that you have escaped,” Yurovsky replies. “A picture will quell those lies.”
Mama nods and beckons us towards her.
The men pull out four chairs for us to sit on. Olga, Mama, Papa and Tatiana sit on the chairs while Maria, Alexei and I sit on the ground at their feet on the pillows Mama, Tatiana and Olga brought down with them.
Papa places Alexei beside me and then goes to sit beside Mama.
Alexei wraps his arm around my waist and I feel that his tiny body is shaking and I wrap my arm around his shoulders.
“Alright,” says one of the Bolsheviks.
The click of the camera barely goes off before the door bursts open.
As other men burst into the room, my world ends in a shower of bullets from their guns.
