I first grew interested with the Romanovs as a 7 year old, when my grandmother, who owned an antique shop, gave me a Russian Easter Egg from Peter Faberge's collection, a priceless piece, of course.
Prior to this, I had no knowledge whatsoever to the Romanov dynasty, Russia, or any bloody massacres. I do remember that before and after that gift, I had always had dreams of playing with this family in scenic lakes:
a little flash of a sailor suit-it sounds fake, but is not-a
boy with pink cheeks and blonde hair, always merry, his parents, who were always discussing something imporant, and lots of pets. Mostly, I dreamed with the boy, but sometimes I would find a group of girls giggling together along the shores.
THe faberge egg my grandmother had given me played an old Russian folksong when you opened it, no one quite adored it as I did. As I grew up, my grand mother parted with her Russian antiques or books and handed them down for me to cherish and keep.
I got my first book when I was merely 10 years old, by then reading tremendous amounts and playing the piano at top speed for my age. Every person I met claimed that I was an 'old soul', too wise and grief-stricken for my age. I had a look in my blue eyes which were as if I had lived and knew about a great many things. I ignored it and called these casual ramblings off.
Meanwhile, I took to copying down the Russian alphabets from my grandmothers books. I compared how many symbols there were in a Russian word to an English word and deciphering these clues, storing each fragment by memory. Soon, I coul write the Russian alhpabet down, very quickly, for I was gifted at school, and using the Russian alphabet in secret notes to my friends during classes. They struggled with this foreign tongue while I merely scribbled things down out of memory, and correctly.
One day, as I was surfing through the channels on my television, I came across a movie called Nicholas and Alexandra. Hence, my obsession dawned. Of course, with my atrocious luck, I only catched the later half of the movie, but was not lost, anyway, in some abnormal way. Every day, after I saw that movie, I was haunted by sudden shedding too many tears to count, for no possible reason. I was diagnosed with depression, and I knew why.
I went to Barnes and Nobles and looked through historical Romanov books. There, I found a picture of the real royal family. They were so beautiful. I brought it and showed it to my grandmother first. She exclaimed, I looked like them she said.
I was puzzled, for how could I? Alright, well my family does have distant royal bloodlines from Alfonso the King of Spain, but that surely wasn't enough for me to resemble OTMA.
I took the book to my school one day, asking for my friends to be honest, who did I look like out of OTMA?! Mostly everyone says I look most like Marie, having her eyes, along with Aleksey's eyes, the color of blue, and the sisters' hair. I have Marie's mouth and chin, her eyebrows, and Olga's high cheekbones. My nose is that of Marie's also. I have a passion for classical music and history, whereas no one from my generation cares. Teachers claim that I am of 'higher class' than their other students, not by social status, but how I carry myself.
My last inquiry is that of my cursive. Almost all the students at school dont have the shadow of a doubt that I write cursive the most exquisiteley. I do not practice tremendously, maybe a few curly cues here and there, but not often. Y
et, I believe in reencarnation and if that is the case, then ...I consider myself a Romanov.