Six Days || WW3 Story of Katya Petrov

Three Days Before the First Bomb

KATYA PETROV'S P.O.V

Mama took me to the dentist today. It was very awkward and not many people were outside, but the inside of the office was crowded. Before we went, Mama grabbed my parka off the hook and put it on me. She put my boots on for me and we started walking. I looked up at Mama who was staring right past the soldiers stationed at every turn. Mama held me tighter and ran into the Dentistry building when we arrived. "Agrafena Smirnov, sorry we're late." My Mama then took a seat in the lobby.  "Why did you apologize?" I asked. She sighed. "We're late. There is a long line waiting to have their teeth cleaned." 

When I sat on the chair and the dentist came in, I looked outside. There was a big window right in front of the chair I sat in that I could see out of. There was also a soldier stationed at the corner near Uncle Dulley's home. Uncle Dulley is a cranky old man who fought in World War One but retired soon after. The soldiers were holding guns up at random people and sometimes shooting, but I didn't feel afraid. I was emotionless. I think the soldiers are Russians shooting at criminals. Until I saw a little girl on the ground with blood spilling out of her head. Then I started crying. It was a horrid sight. Mama was there with me and she calmed me down and told me the girl was an American and that the Americans were trying to rob us. I didn't exactly calm down because there was a dead four-year-old outside that I could see perfectly. The dentist told me to close my eyes and ignore it and continued to clean my teeth. 

Finally, we were done with the Dentist and Mama took me back outside. We walked the opposite from home and far past the Russian soldier who killed the American child. I don't know how long we were walking outside, but it felt like forever! Then we reached a tall-ish building that Mama went inside with me in her arms.  A man standing behind a counter frowned at us and asked, "Name?" My Mama said, "Agrafena Smirnov and Katya Petrov." The man opened a cabinet and took out of a small passport-looking item. "Bessie Martin." He told me, giving me the item with my school picture and fake name inside the booklet. I then woke up a bit and realized it was midnight. "Who's Bessie?" I asked. He rolled his eyes. "Your name is Bessie Martin. You were born in Michigan. You moved to Russia with your parents who are fighting for America so you travelled back home to the United States until the war is over. Okay?" He stared at me in the eyes and Mama frowned. "She doesn't know about the war." She sighed, holding onto me. "Katya needs to know. She needs to learn tactics. Keep her far from Russian establishments and Russian friends and family. She will be strictly trained to hide her accent and learn the basics about America until she is ready to put on an act for the rest of her life."