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Yurovsky, the head of our little squad, drove the car that night. I remember it perfectly, because I had been sitting in the passenger seat next to him. It was a little car with an open top. Two more cars followed close behind us, following us deeper into the woods.

It was early morning and sun hadn't yet broken over the horizon. The sky was a grayish-orange color; it looked like it was going to be a cloudy day. And rightly so.

The drive was not very far. We were just heading to a little glade to finish our sinful business. 

In the seats behind me, Vladimir and Nicholas were muttering to each other, each man clutching onto his issued rifle as if it were a lifeline.

Disgusted with them and with everyone else, I grit my teeth and my vision turned red with the hatred in my veins. 

I remembered all of it. After all, it had only happened a few hours ago. I remember waiting in the room with the other soldiers, some of whom I considered my friends. I remember my sweaty palms slipping off the pistol grip. I remember Yurovsky's demand earlier that we each stick to our intended target. 

I remember Yurovsky being cruel to me, crueler than any devil or Satan or Lucifer I was sure to ever come upon in life or in death. And it was out of this cruelty that the man I am now was created.

I remember the family being herded into the room like sheep. I remember shooting them.

I remember shooting Anna.

She looked at me before I did, as if she knew that I was the one assigned to kill her. She looked at me. That was it. She didn't beg. She didn't cry. She didn't fall to her knees. She looked at me. 

She closed her eyes after that second. I shot her when I couldn't see her eyes anymore.

She and her sisters didn't die right away. Yurovsky had the other soldiers club them with their rifle butts, finally silencing their pitiful shrieks and wails of pain.

I snapped out of my nightmarish reverie and looked over at Yurovsky driving the car. I had the sudden urge to strangle the man. I resisted. Maybe I shouldn't have.

Yurovsky must've noticed me staring at him because he glanced my way and smirked. I turned the other cheek.

He drove for another mile or so before parking the car at the side of the road. The two cars following us did the same and Vladimir and Nicholas got out of our car. They walked side by side to the other cars where the bodies were packed.

I stayed where I was.

Yurovsky put a strong, calloused hand on my shoulder. He spoke to me and his breath reeked of rotten meat and brutality. "Remember, Dmitri. You can't tell anyone."

I slowly turned my head to look at him. He wasn't fazed by my glare. I wasn't surprised. There was nothing in my eyes to scare him off. 

"Tell anyone what?" I asked, feigning innocence.

I wanted to hear the b*****d say it.

"You can't tell anyone that we killed off the Romanovs. Nobody is supposed to know."

I nodded once in obedience, and my soul screamed and tore at me for doing so.

We killed the Romanov family earlier that summer night. And I killed Anna. 

I killed Anastasia Romanov.

It's not my fault as a soldier. I was just following orders.

Reviews

[bluessadmood]

This was written so well my friend..though the object you chose
was well known and was written many times ago..i remember that
since i read also that specially this princess Anna,,so they say in many rumours and even stories
that was not really killed..just wounded and then somehow fled away
she ending being in Germany..she escaped ..and the press
at the time was wild with her sudden appearance..
still when i read this i was captured with how you said it
i never know till the end It wa about the Romanov s
yes its sickening ,most royal families that were ousted from power
off course by revolutionary movement were brutally slaughtered
were there was no need for it all..i really loved your writing
lovely write..

[compositionc]

Oh. My. God.
It was still incredibly well written.
It was the Romanov family...wow. One of the most brutal slaughters from power for a revolution. I didn't realise that until he said it.
That was just sad. Sad. Sad. Sad.
Fantastic write.

[Jazique]

Writing flawless when it come to grammar, spelling and punctuations. As a reader this piece of writing was so sad it reminded of this movie we saw in class that really relates to this story called "Swing kids" when at times people are made to do something even the soldier to which, they even now is morally wrong but, the oldest excuse in the box is always told which is "I'm just doing what I was told." Sometimes its good not to do what you're told because sometimes what you have to do is not always the right things. Its a time and place where you have to think about what is right and wrong when it comes to life and the life of others. You book is self is very interesting and very truthful in some ways as to why some people do what they do even though never wanted to do it. You did a very good job at this and I hope to read more of your writings. Well done.

[Shallowed]

Thats the sad thing about war. Its always glorified in games like World At War but it was actually a really sad thing. For the families, soldiers, and anyone affected by it.

[Snickers]

-gasps histerically- No! Dmitri killed the romanov family D: what? seriously? Nuuuuu.

Really good chapter, had suspense for me.Keep it up