Moscow. July 27, 1918.
Doroteya Filippovna Lavrova.
"Beautiful! Beautiful!" My old patient calls for me. He just had an appendectomy.
"What is it, Pavel?" I answer, trying to denote as much patience as possible.
Before my recent vision of the future, I would have been even kinder. But now, every day is a struggle not to cry.
"Can you read to me again?" He requests.
I just did that. I finished reading to him less than half an hour ago.
"You know I can´t, dear", I reply. "I have other patients."
"Or maybe she doesn´t want to", Anastasia appears behind me.
"It is really not that", I reassure my patient apologetically. "Excuse me." I grab Anastasia´s arm and drag her along with me to the corridors outside the patients´ beds.
"Well, that was a bit rude", I tell my new friend.
"I never let my patients treat me as anything other than a nurse", she says. "Why do you?"
"They just feel lonely Anastasia. This man´s daughters haven´t come to visit him in a long time, his two sons died during the war, and his wife is mad at him, even though he claims she died years ago".
"How do you know she is alive and mad at him if he claims otherwise?" Anastasia asks.
Oh. I forgot.
I have told neither Anastasia nor her husband anything about the visions I´ve had ever since I was a child. Very few people know.
"Another relative of his told me", I lie.
I have only known Anastasia and her husband Valeriy Kirilov for three days, but I already feel as if they had been part of the family for years, which is why sometimes I forget not to share my strange ability with them, two complete strangers.
Anastasia started working as a nurse three days ago at the same hospital I do, where my husband Andrei also works as a surgeon. She also asked for a place to stay for herself and her injured husband. I let them stay with Andrei, my five-year-old daughter Katya and me on a whim, without even asking my husband. Luckily for me, he never stays angry for too long. Valeriy and Andrei have become good pals.
Anastasia and Valeriy sleep in the room for visitors. My maid Sonia and I had to clean it up before they could use it.
Valeriy was shot by a robber who took all of his and Anastasia´s money while they were staying in Moscow temporarily on their way to visit a friend. At least that is what they have told me. I give them the benefit of the doubt even though I could easily figure out whether what they are saying is true. It is rude to spy on people you know personally.
The story is convincing enough. Ever since the revolution, the streets haven´t been safe. It has become chaos out there. Just last week Andrei was robbed and assaulted. Luckily, he didn´t have much money with him, but they gave him a black eye that is fortunately almost healed.
Valeriy lies in bed all day, and Anastasia takes care of him devotedly.
Sometimes we take him out to the garden of our house in a wheelchair. My daughter is very funny with him and likes to pretend she is his nurse.
Anastasia and I continue giving meals, changing bandages, and helping with surgeries.
We have a special place in the left-wing for people infected with contagious diseases such as typhus. Only certain doctors and nurses are allowed to enter, but there are too few of us for so many sick.
We also receive soldiers coming from both the southern and eastern fronts, thankfully not too many. Most arrive in terrible conditions, having barely been treated on the trains. The whole country is running short of medical supplies.
If it weren´t for Dr. Markov, the founder and, at least for now, owner of the hospital, we would have been as lost and short of basic needs as most hospitals nowadays ever since the nation got sucked into a civil war. He works tirelessly along with the rest of the doctors and nurses in the hospital to make this place a true sanctuary. A place where people who are in pain or weak can heal surrounded by peace and tranquility. He is working especially hard now that the funds are running low.
We obtain most supplies from the black market, and my sisters have friends in our village who sell us fresh food cheaper.
Dr. Markov is an extremely strict man, so strict that sometimes Andrei resents him. My husband jokes about and impersonates our boss mercilessly, imitating his stern voice in a very convincing manner.
My Andrei has always been jealous of Dr. Markov. He is so passionate about what he does that he becomes frustrated whenever he is reminded someone has more experience. As much as he admires Dr. Markov, he is also very competitive. I find the way Andrei tries to hide it endearing. I always pretend not to notice that whenever Dr. Markov mentions a new subject, it will soon become important to my husband, who will begin studying it with special enthusiasm.
I have been thinking about every single thing I love about Andrei recently. It is what I think about most throughout the day.
Dr. Markov is strict with shifts, anti-epidemic measures, baths, and laundries for the patients. He doesn´t like it when we try new methods without his consent, and he insists we are particularly careful when it comes to handling fragile technological equipment, such as X-rays.
Even slightly inadequate handling of the donated blood or its subsequent classification for the purpose of transfusions has also earned some of the nurses a few well-deserved reprimands. Dr. Markov is really up to date with all the new advancements and even then becomes annoyed whenever he is unable to modernize the hospital as fast as he would prefer.
Despite him trying to stay in good graces with the new government for the sake of his workers and patients, something tells me his time in charge is coming to an end. Maybe this year, maybe the next one.
I don´t know how to feel about it. He is a great man, and I don´t like the new establishment, but the healthcare in this country is terrible. One doctor for 6000 villagers in some places levels of terrible, and not all workers can afford hospitalization. The Great War, and now this civil war, have only made it worse.
My friend Dafna also works in this hospital. She sympathizes with the reds, at least more than either me or Andrei, which isn´t much but is something. She says things will improve once the war is over. I don´t want to be naïve, but I really hope at least the healthcare system does improve after the war is over. I am skeptical though. Throughout her husband´s reign, the Tsarina worked very hard to improve healthcare in Russia and make sure more people could afford insurance. If she wasn´t able to accomplish that in a short time, what says these new people will?
I have no clue what will happen. I can barely have visions about the future of a single individual, let alone the future of an entire nation.
My shift has finished now, as has Anastasia´s, but I am not sure about my husband. It depends on whether there are complications during his last surgery or not.
"Help me find my husband before you leave, Anastasia", I tell my friend. "If he is still in surgery you can leave first". Anastasia nods.
Our house is a few streets away from here. We usually walk home unless it is too dark already.
Oo
I immediately run towards Andrei for an embrace. This never gets old.
"What was it this time?" I ask my husband as we walk home.
It did take a while for him to come out, so Anastasia is already walking far ahead of us. I, on the other hand, waited outside the room where he was performing surgery. I don´t want to spend a second without him.
"Eight-year-old boy broke his tibia, you know, fell while playing football", Andrei responds. "He wasn´t on my schedule today, he arrived recently."
"Oh, poor thing", I say.
"I knew you would say that Doroteya, but children are stupid."
I love my husband.
"Come on, darling", I smile. "You wouldn't have as much interest in pediatrics if you didn't love children."
He is always so fun with his patients, especially with the little ones.
"Oh, no, with one it is enough, Katya is the only child I like", Andrei jokes. "And I am glad it is a girl, a girly girl. I couldn't deal with either a boy or a tomboy jumping around, climbing trees, and trying to make me die of a heart attack at 28!"
I roll my eyes and then laugh.
"Well, you might not like this then", I lower my head, feigning sadness, "but I saw a boy in my vision." I look back up at Andrei tentatively, without raising my head.
Andrei stops in his tracks.
"You are pregnant?" He opens his eyes wide and stares at me in awe.
"Will be pregnant", I reply.
Andrei laughs loudly and carries me off my feet. He believes me. He knows everything about me. We cover each other's faces and lips with kisses. He keeps kissing my nose for a while. This would have annoyed me before, not now.
"Wait a second", Andrei stops kissing me and points his index finger at me. "Is that the reason you have been so affectionate lately? Because you wanted to have another baby?" He shrugs. "I mean, I am not complaining but… I need sleep, Doroteya."
"No Andrei", I roll my eyes. "I saw the baby, so even at our normal rate we would still be having it".
"Shame it is a boy", he complains.
"Oh, don't be dramatic", I grin. He takes my hand and looks at me.
"I am happy." He kisses the side of my head, and then we keep on walking.
"Ugh, I want to get home already!" I exclaim. "I am hungry!"
"Not even pregnant yet and already with cravings", Andrei teases me.
Oo
We enter our apartment and find Anastasia writing a letter on the table of the dining room. She sits right under the light of the chandelier.
Anastasia becomes a bit startled when we arrive and swiftly folds her letter to put it away. She quickly smiles at us after doing so. It is rather suspicious.
"Good evening, I am not much of a cook", she greets us, "but I helped Sonia prepare us something to eat."
"Thank you, Anastasia", my husband says. "That is nice of you". I am too distracted having reservations about our guest to say anything, but I manage to hide it with a smile.
Oo
Valeriy has already eaten in his room, and Sonia prefers to eat alone more often than not, so only Andrei, Anastasia, Katya, and I have dinner together.
I fight the urge to see what that letter is really about, but I fail miserably. I wouldn´t have failed before. I know Anastasia deserves privacy. I know this isn´t right, but I do it anyway.
I focus my mind on what I want to see and then immediately avoid thinking of anything. Then I see it. Only portions of the letter appear inside my mind. I understand very little of her handwriting, but it is there.
Dear C.L.: We are safe, it says, is Ms. R there yet?
What Ms. R?
This is our new address, we are living with a really decent couple, dear Ms. R will understand that we found many boring places around the city, but one of the theaters has fairly interesting plays we haven't seen yet, and we are planning to do so tomorrow after work. And most damning of all: We can't tell you anything yet until dear Ms. R arrives, scared of talking nonsense.
What theater? They didn't tell us anything about going to the theater tomorrow. I fear I might have brought something dangerous to my house. I worry this might all turn out to be my fault. I know my daughter will be safe, but what about my husband?
Oo
I hope it wasn't too obvious I wasn't paying attention to the conversation between Anastasia and Andrei about new advancements on ways to treat abdominal wounds. Even my daughter seems more interested than me, which isn't normal. It occurs to me she may want to become a nurse like me when she grows older and my mood changes for the better.
After dinner, Anastasia helps me wash the dishes. Once we are done she excuses herself and goes back to her and Valeriy's room.
Katya is playing in her room with Andrei. I find her wearing a stethoscope. Andrei is clearly the patient in this situation.
"I am going to give you some aspirin", Katya says in a serious tone of voice.
I am going to miss scenes like this one so much.
Oo
Katya is bitterly disappointed when I announce it is time to go to bed, and even more so when her dad supports my decision by saying goodnight to her with a kiss on the cheek. Exhausted, my husband leaves for our bedroom.
I calm my very upset daughter, help her put on her nightgown, and tuck her into bed. As usual, she requests a story.
I tell her the story of Ivan and the Chestnut Horse, which is an immensely popular tale. I wonder why I had not told her about it before. Maybe I had just forgotten. I talk to her about the Romanovs so often…
"I love how at the end Ivan gets to marry the princess! Katya exclaims. "He deserves it because he is so good, I was surprised, but I like it!"
"I am glad you liked it my darling", I say. "Now, it is time to go to bed".
"Tell me more about the Grand Duchesses! Where are they now? In Ekaterinburg? Are they still there? What are they doing now?" She talks and asks the questions with excitement.
The Romanovs are some of the many people I see in my visions. I used to see them very often because I willed my mind to do so.
I used to tell my daughter real stories about the Grand Duchesses, which I learned about thanks to this strange gift from God.
Little Anastasia´s pranks, Maria´s kindness, Olga´s intelligence, and of course, I tried to make Katya behave sometimes by telling her that Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna, the most beautiful of all, always obeyed her parents.
What can I say? What little girl does not like to hear about princesses? And how could I not use my ability, which is a curse most of the time, for something that genuinely makes her happy? I regret it now, however. These are real girls, real women, and real life. Bad things happen, what do I tell my little Katya now? That their parents were murdered in front of them?
"They are still together in Ekaterinburg, dying of boredom", I lie with a smile. There is nothing new about them her innocent five-year-old ears should hear.
My daughter laughs out loud as if my joke were actually funny.
Could I tell her that two men came for the little brother? That I got so upset after this happened that I completely stopped having visions of the Romanovs? That when I do have visions I try to block them out of my mind and then forget about them immediately? That I don't know where any of them are now because their story might not have a happy ending and I am not prepared to see it?
"Can you tell me their futures then? And will I be able to marry the Tsesarevich and become the Tsarina?" She asks the two questions in quick succession.
"Remember I can't see the future darling", I answer, endeared by my daughter´s interest. "Now, it is late, time to go to bed". My daughter pouts.
"Can't you tell me another story?" She asks with a sparkle in her eyes, I almost give in. "It can be about anything!"
"No, it is late. I promise I will tell you lots of things tomorrow. I have many interesting stories for you". I answer truthfully, and she seems comforted.
There really are thousands of stories to tell. This time, I will make sure they are all fictional. I kiss Katya´s forehead and caress her dark blond hair. We say our prayers together before I sing to help her sleep, then I turn off the lights and leave to join my husband in bed.
Oo
I have seen the future, but I do not want to tell my daughter any of my possibly inaccurate predictions. My poor child. I should definitely not have filled her little head with this almost fairytale-like story that might still end in tragedy.
I had visions about the futures of Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, and Alexei weeks ago, back when they were still in the Ipatiev House at Ekaterinburg. I thought I had made an obvious mistake, because Marina´s prophecy was, apparently, turning out to be true, and I was no match for a woman who saw 300 years into the future.
Marina's prophecy was not fulfilled, at least not entirely. Seeing the future is hard, and just like in any other vision, you cannot understand what is happening if you only see the middle. Marina did not see the beginning nor the end. Tsesarvich Alexei didn't die in the Ipatiev House, so the dynasty did not end there like Marina proclaimed it would.
Something dreadful did happen in that house. Those boring moments in the cellar were the last this loving family would ever spend together. Maybe the dynasty did not end, but the Romanov family was ripped apart. Five innocent children were forced to witness the murder of their parents. Then they were split, maybe forever. That was Marina's vengeance.
But maybe Marina's words have simply not come to pass yet, and just like the Ipatiev Monastery was only the beginning for Tsar Michael I, the Ipatiev House might have been just the beginning of the end for Tsesarevich Alexei.
I don´t know if any of the visions I had back then and kept to myself will ever come to pass, except maybe for the one I had about Alexei.
Predicting the future is harder indeed, few seers are able to do it, let alone do it properly. I suspect this because otherwise, there would be hundreds of fulfilled prophecies all over the world. Our existence would be acknowledged by scientists. Politicians and military men would be hiring us by the dozens.
I mainly see things that are happening in the present or occurred in the past, which can be easily explained away and may not be that impressive, so I assume that if there are more people like me around the world, their existence is hidden by relatives, friends, and acquaintances calling those people prying or meddling.
If I do see the future, it is presented to me through nonsensical visions that probably need to be interpreted in order to make sense.
Sometimes I am completely wrong. Sometimes I have a good vision that tells me everything I need to know, but I am unable to interpret it properly until the events in question come to pass. Sometimes my visions are correct, but I am still wrong.
That is why I stopped telling people their futures for rubles in my village. I experienced many embarrassing moments. Some called me a charlatan and never forgot the offense. Even now, whenever I visit my family in the village, I fear encountering those people. I lost my best and only childhood friend to one of my faulty predictions. I predicted she would marry the man she loved.
My vision, in which I saw her kissing him, only predicted the man would seduce her without marrying her. He left the village the morning after.
It is partly my fault he was able to do that. My friend really thought he would keep his word and marry her soon after, all because of what I said. Some people started ostracizing her, and Anna never talked to me again. She left the village as well to travel the country and never came back. I really miss her.
Oo
My first vision of the Romanovs´ future was that of two shining stars. The brightest I had ever seen. I knew those two stars were the big pair because I saw their faces in the light. Then I saw three stars, or four stars. The third star, right in the middle of the sisters, shone the brightest because it was made up of two stars, one in front of the other. Now that I have gathered up the courage to focus on their futures again, I see the same thing. I do not know what this means, but it might be a good sign.
Maria´s future is a worrying sight. There is also a star, but it barely shines. For instants, it isn't there. It is so small and insignificant I worry I might have imagined it out of fear for the girl´s future. The star appears and disappears.
Whenever I have visions about the two youngest children my heart sinks. They are the most unsettling of them all.
When I think of Alexei´s future all I see is darkness. Black, pure, unadulterated darkness. I only have visions like those when the person I am focusing on has died, and I have always been correct, without exceptions.
Death is the only thing I can predict accurately when it just happened or is about to. I told many of my acquaintances about their sons´ deaths in battle way before they received any news from the front. I received the knowledge from those visions.
Sometimes they did not believe me, but I was never mistaken. Many thanked me once they received the news for preparing them for the terrible blow, others blamed me for their deaths, saying I was a witch who had murdered their sons. I do not blame them. Their grief must have been unbearable.
My husband became angry whenever I told the parents I had predicted their sons´ death, saying it was best not to say anything until they received the messages themselves, but I disagreed. I thought they deserved to know as soon as anyone close to them knew. Now I understand my husband's point of view.
I already mourn the poor heir. Such a good boy, such compassion for someone so young. In the words of his own late mother, perfect son-in-law he would have been. I know I must tell my daughter sooner or later. Maybe I will tell her tomorrow.
The visions I have about Anastasia´s future, or lack thereof, are the strangest I have ever had. I do not see anything. Not even darkness. If I do perceive something, it is another girl. Every time I focus on someone's future I see something from their past or present whenever I fail. Anything. Never does my mind go blank like this, never am I presented someone else.
Anastasia´s name does give me a bit of hope for her though. The meaning of her name is like hope itself, and their names are what they are for a reason.
I see my own children´s future a lot more easily. I know both my darling baby girl and my not yet conceived baby boy will survive childhood and grow up to have children of their own. I see so much happiness in their futures, but I also see suffering. A war, even greater than the ones taking place right now, is coming. It brings an evil enemy, as cruel and vicious as the most radical revolutionaries of today's youth, but way more ambitious and destructive.
Maybe this enemy is just a different group of reds. I have seen their flags, they are red, but they have a symbol in the middle. I think I have seen it before, but it is not the hammer and the sickle.
My son will bleed and suffer for the motherland so terribly that it might haunt him for the rest of his days. Another thing that bothers me is that I can't see my daughter´s husband in the visions that take place after that terrible war, and curiously, one of my worst nightmares about that future conflict includes a giant mushroom. My visions of the future are nonsense more often than not.
Some nights I cry myself to sleep thinking about my visions. It has become a daily occurrence. I am doing it right now as I hug my husband, who is already asleep. I want to wake him up, to conceive our child right now, or tomorrow, this entire week, just like we have tried the entire past week.
I want to kiss him, become one with him and stay that way for hours. I want to enjoy every last second I get. I am crying as I wake him up right now. I am going to tell him I am crying because of the Tsesarevich, that I need him to console me. But the main reason I am crying is that two days ago, I started to see darkness in Andrei´s future as well, a darkness that is always accompanied by a child´s terrified whimpers. The child is asking a question over and over again: "Where are you taking me?"
So, what do her visions mean? For real though, I do not know, whoever can make up an end for the Romanov children that makes that vision understandable gets to make up the ending.
I am joking, but I am legit curious of what you guys think it means. I will cling to the hope you will tell me in the comments, it would be interesting to know.