Get In Line

And on top of all that, they chose me.
Simply because I had stood with the Tzar before, because I had known them and did things for them, I was their target too.
From when I saw them last to when I heard their screams silenced by gunshots, it as horrid. As if there had not been enough torture in the world already.
Now they were dead as well. And I was next.
I heard what the Bolsheviks did to their enemies, and if you did not work with them you were against them. I knew what I had to do. I had to go. I couldn't stay here.
Who knows what else they would do to me? To my sisters? I hoped and prayed they would not know where my family lived. We were secluded enough. My only hope was to get out to survive. I could not take them. It was too suspicious.
I left them only a letter in the dead of the night, then slept until the early morning, and I hoped that as I left they would forgive me.

Now where did I have to go?

It was best for me to remember the Romanovs only as faces, regents, to remember them by the small sum they've given me to escape. They said they'd catch up to me. If only I could warn them... If I remembered them as anything human my heart would break once again.
I couldn't get why people would not just get along, leave us alone.
And I wondered where to go as I went. Out of Russia, that was certain. Out of the East. I did not feel safe anywhere I had fought. I travelled by cart, by train, if I could afford it, and the last part I did on foot. When the money was spent and the stomach empty I had no other choice.
My soles were worn, my clothing torn, the only thing consistent was the scarf around my neck. I kept that safe, on me at all times, wouldn't pawn it off for anything. It felt like the only real thing I had left.

A thought had occurred to me as I exited Poland. On where to go. To the West. Even further. Not in Germany where I was not. This was disheartening. Dozens of people in line for food. A horse collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of the street and people riled around it to tear it apart while the flesh was still warm. They were emaciated and rugged and ghoulish, and what was left of my heart sank only ever deeper.
Even here, in the common people, the war left no survivors. It affected everyone.
And I hated it.

I had to go further. Further West... I think. I didn't know where West was anymore. I think I got lost in the city. In some other part... I ran away from that horse, didn't want to think about it.
My mind bombarded itself with too many things, and it overwhelmed me so that whatever I ate came back... if I had eaten anything at all lately.
My stomach was empty, my throat was dry, tears were in my eyes and all I wanted was to be gone. I leaned against the wall of an alleyway and sobbed while I stood. People passing by were a little unnerved, but why wouldn't they be?
I was lost, frightened and alone, in a place where I knew no-one and nobody with not a coin on me. I was cold and hungry and whatever they spoke here, I didn't speak it. So the only thing I could do is bite through my teeth, and keep walking.
I definitely got some stares. My hair was still on-end and I was very on-edge. There was a place with pretty lights that I accidentally walked into... almost.
I couldn't read the signs, or the papers near the door, but it showed a dancing woman being surrounded by big jugs of drink.
There was something enticing about that. I don't know what it was, but it warmed my heart a little.
Everything else was still cold, though, and, what did I have to lose?
Despite being horribly nervous, I went in.

It was warm here. The wooden floorboards creaked. Music played. Various decorated people laughed and I saw drinks being shared and food being eaten. My stomach gargled. Was it a bad idea to have come here?
It was full here, but I managed to find an empty chair. I don't even think anyone saw me. Good. The less eyes on me the better. Any one of them could've been one of the Bolshevik's, on the hunt and out for blood. I missed my sisters incredibly...
As I stared at my own hands and allowed myself to calm down and warm up, the music changed. Lights turned to a stage at the end of the cosy room. People were cheering and someone announced something. His suit was nice.
People raised their glasses in the air, just like in the picture. And there...

There she was.

A piano played a little tune, and there she came. She appeared from behind the big red curtains like some sort of angel, full of life and beautiful. She had a short white dress and a feather in her hair. I hadn't seen anything like this before. Never in Russia, never anywhere else. Did I die? Did I go to Heaven? Was this an angel?
I could only stare with my mouth agape as she started singing. Her hair was blonde and beautiful, and she was curvy. Strong, almost. Very muscular. I think I melted away a little when her pearly blue eyes met mine from time to time. Most folk here cheered, started dancing on the creaking wooden floor. Not me. I was too hungry for that. I just sat and stared at the angel on the stage, who sang with a lively zest that made me melt.
I stayed until after she sang. People cried in chorus, I think they wanted her to come back... and she did. After a break, she came back, and I could ignore my cold and pain and the ache in my heart and only behold what beautiful thing happened. I dreamed away, hand on my head.
Then she walked from the stage across the wooden floor, graciously as a cat might. I could not understand a word she was saying but she was so beautiful. Lips so red, a face as strong as her body, a heavy blush and a little gap in her chin. She stopped in front of my spot and she gave me a wink. I must've done something incredibly stupid because she stared dumbfounded at me for a short second, then laughed and gave me a drink, and then she went on with her little tour across the room.
I barely had any eyes for the drink, though. I think I started to cry. I'd seen Hell, and beauty like this still existed. And it stayed here, didn't get blown apart or shot to bits, or gassed in its trench.
No, the beauty remained.

I sipped the drink only when she was gone. More dancing women and music came, but all I could think about was her. I barely noticed when people were starting to leave, still sipping my empty glass and staring at the stage.
But then something happened behind me.

I heard a door roughly open and some people come in. It sounded serious. I glanced over my shoulder, snapped out of the rose-tinted dream, and saw men in black uniforms spill into the room, pushing people out of the way and hauling them away. The dancing women from before...
No!

I stood up from my chair, just now realising how much everything hurt again. But it didn't matter. They were here to ruin that beauty, so they needed to leave. There was only three of them. It was easy. I had done it before. Grabbing them by the collar and kicking them out. One needed a light push. They cursed me, I'm sure, as they laid on the street and tried to get back in by hitting me with something. I barely felt it, picking them up and kicking them out again. The people still in the room gasped, I heard, and talked in that odd language I didn't get. The people in uniform slowly backed away and left, people they were dragging away came back... Those uniformed men gave me angry glances from the night-street. Maybe they were Bolsheviks? Did I do a good thing?
Nothing other than this had felt real up to this point since I went to and left the front. They weren't going to take that away!

I felt another hand on my shoulder. It was soft.

I turned around. Her. And I melted again.
She talked to me and I didn't understand it, simply smiling, and nodding and shaking my head. She took my hand in hers. I felt like I could die right there and my life would be complete.
She quickly talked to someone else, also in a suit, and they nodded to each other before she, again, turned to me. Those eyes...
She finally said something I could understand.
"Come with me tonight."