Czarina Vasilisa

[chizue]

~About A Girl~

:: Czarina Vasilisa ::
:: December 21, 1991 ::
:: Female ::
:: Coroner ::
:: St. Petersburg, Russia ::

~Interrogation~

Turtle or Hare :: Which ever runs faster!
Half Empty or Full :: It is but a glass.
Truth or Lies :: Depends on the situation.
Day or Night :: The stars in the sky.
Bright or Bland :: Color is everything.
Always or Never :: What was the question?
Love or War :: They are but one.
Black or White :: Some where in between.

~Who Is This Girl~

My first name is Czarina, which in Russia means Female ruler. My last name, Vasilisa, means royal. I am indeed a Princess of the human race. My father was the head of a Russian group, he was a secret co-operative exiled for his love of the cat people, this strange feline breed. He was murdered the day of my third birthday. I never knew this man, and my mother, she was turned into one of these predators. The Russian government hunted her down, and murdered her with no regrets, no remorse. I was forced to live with my aunt but at sixteen, I left, needing my own space, my own life. Do I hate these felines, one may ask. Truly, I do not even know them. In fact, I can not even say that I have ever even met one other than my poor mother. Would I hate them if I met them? I can not answer that question. How can anyone?

I have always thought of myself as a realist. Some one who can not look at the glass as half empty, or half full, but some one who's sees that there is a glass, with something still in it. I see the world as it is, not as it should be, not as it used to be. I am nervous, but at the same time too trusting. I am not quick to judge the lives or looks of others, but can be demeaning. I have no use for incompetent people that depend on everyone but themselves, and I most certainly can not stand idiotic remarks from people who think that they are better than all others. I can laugh and I can cry, so in some ways I am simple, but my mind, that is what is complex. People say I am morbid because of my choice of work, but does it not help others cope when dealing with the death of their loved ones. Do they not have a need, a general curiosity to know how it is that their loved one has died? Though I am young, just a baby, I have seen death, and have heard the screams of others as they are murdered in the street. No, I am not morbid, I am a realist, if you don't like it, then leave.

Growing up in Russia was hectic for me. I was a young child, threatened by mutations that would lead me to become a feline, but they would never turned me, because of my father. I am but a simple human girl fighting to stay alive, still hidden away in St. Petersburg where I was forced to grow up. I know not many, but the few that I have met in my child hood are now dead. My aunt resides in Japan, relieving herself of the horrors that our Russian communities face. I want to travel as well. Meet new people, and find some one whom I can trust fully. I will never know that if I am to stay in Russia. I have dreamt my whole life of travel, seeking out new and exotic places that no one has explored, but I haven't the nerves to leave this place.

~Proving How Worthy~

The night was seemingly sweet in its dark and eerie glory. Stars shimmered in the sky with brightness that shone out through the cracks in the thick trees. Sounds rang in my ears as I sat silently on the dirt covered ground. A small breeze hit my face as I looked around the dark wood. I felt bare though I was clothed in dark shorts and a white shirt. My almost luminescent blue eyes sparkled as I looked to the sky once more before getting up. I raped the dirt from my buttocks and began a slow walk through the thickets. My hiking boots tossed up rocks that were placed so perfectly on the ground as I stomped my way through, removing branch upon branch from my blond locks. I glared on through the night with sounds on rustling twigs and swift paw motions.

I fixed the hair that was now blowing this way and that into my face from the large gust of wind that had swept by. The night became silent afterwards and I became suspicious. My human blood rushed through my veins as I realized that everything looked the same. I was stuck in a wood that I had no recollection of. Was I still in St. Petersburg? Was I still in Russia? I would not know until my feet carried myself out of this horrid place. I was afraid and sweating. Drops of water began to form in the corner of my eyes as I picked up my pace and began in a slow run. I stopped, catching my breath, looking through the trees. I saw odd colored eyes and I looked down. I was in the place I had been before, the same place that I had just come from. Had I even left from this spot, I looked up in time to see my mother, racing towards me with inhumane speed, she looked rabid, and I coward down with my arms wrapped around my knees. Then, I opened my eyes to see my small hut-like home. "It was just a dream.." A sigh blew out of my lungs as I lifted myself out of bed to begin my day.


:: KittyGrey ::