The Mystery of Anastacia Romanov

I hated this. I hated being here; not being able to talk; not being able to breathe. I hated not having a home. I hated that my parents felt guilty about what happened. It was my fault. It was my entire fault.

Since the assault both Josie and Mallorie had visited me at the hospital (under very special conditions, of course). Josie told me how she felt guilty about everything, because it was her knowing that triggered all these feelings. I told her that that wasn’t true. But it really was.
Mallorie gave me an extensive update (more specifically, a two hour update) of what had happened in school whilst I was out. Apparently Ricky broke his knee when playing rugby, Georgia had been elected student council president and Mrs. Fleming had given them a lecture about their decreasing grades.

I, meanwhile, had been here for 15 days. At this point I didn’t think I would ever get out. I had thought many times in the past days that I was dead. It was a comfortable feeling; very light, very peaceful. I remembered my childhood: running down the streets with mum and dad together; the first Romanov biography I got from grandmother in the Christmas of 1999; the first time I sailed through the Camil River. I remembered my family, when we were the royal family of Emeraud au Rouge. Before the rumours and the tabloids. And I realized that, on my deathbed, that was what I really wanted; a family.

“Charlotte, dear, I have a present for you”, said a very familiar, very soft voice. “I realized that you don’t have this one in your collection, love”, she said, handing me a thick, bronze-coloured book, with beautiful German cresses, with a large red title, spelling “The Mystery of Anastacia Romanov”, by G.T. George. “I love you, my dear. But you must let me go. I am well; I am blissful. And I am blessed to have had the life I had. To have had these girls, was everything I could ask for. Our stay on earth is only temporary, but that is good. Now I am at peace; I am with grandpa and mother, and father. Now you, young lady, still have a long way to go here. And I know you will triumph against this amoral cruelty with strength, brilliance and grace. You are capable of great deeds, little Charlie: your name will go down in history forever”. I blinked for a moment, tears running down my eyes, and the tall, elegant figure wasn’t there anymore. My grandmother had left us forever.