Tatiana rearranged the pillow which she had taken from Anna to make Alexei more comfortable, while we waited for Father to come back. In four or five minutes the group of men separated into two groups. Father walked between them. His face was ashen and the “Otsu mark” on his forehead was red like fire. His left shoulder and the left side of his face just below his eye were twitching. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face and took the chair next to Alexei on the latter’s right side. What this man Yurovsky had said to Father in that room no one will ever know. Father preceded Yurovsky who was followed by others and who remained standing in the middle of the group.

I was on my Mother’s left side and Dr. Botkin was behind her on her right. My sisters were a few steps behind us. The men stood about eight feet away facing us. I am sure the others thought as I did that we were trapped, and there was nothing to do or say.

When Father entered the room, Mother started to raise herself. Suddenly she trembled and fell back into the chair as her head slumped to her right shoulder toward Alexei. Then I screamed and grabbed Dr. Botkin’s arm. While I was screaming, Yurovsky said something, exactly what, I did not hear. Simultaneously, I heard screams....

After this I was somewhat conscious. Still I felt no pain and did not see anyone fall but my lips were frozen cold and I felt very clammy and there was a violent ringing in my ears. I wanted to get up but I felt as if I were paralyzed, and lost consciousness entirely.

How long I lay in blackness, which held me floating between life and death, I cannot tell. Was it hours or days? I do not know. All too soon I awoke from oblivion to realization and horror. I had no sensation of coming back to life. All at once I knew I was alive and in pain. My mind was clear, I was cold and conscious of some terrible catastrophe. At first I shrieked frightfully; then I was afraid to breathe and to open my eyes. I knew I had just come to from unconsciousness. I began to feel the increasing pain and shiver from the wet cold, and became convinced that I was not dreaming. But a fear came over me. First I thought that I fell on the floor and got hurt, and that they, thinking I was dead, had buried me alive without a coffin, and that my grave was not yet sealed. I tried to control my shrieks realizing too well what had happened, though all was perfectly quiet now. Still I did not wish to open my eyes for fear of what I would see. I was cold and in great pain. My neck seemed swollen. I felt a tightness around my nose and swelling below my left eye.

The others: Were they beside me? Were they alive but afraid to move? I began to wonder. In the darkness I could feel no body warmth; I could hear no sound of breathing. Suddenly, it came to me. I remembered the anguished screams. I lay in a hush, a silence that was all the more pronounced by contrast with the noise and frantic screams before. It was the silence of death and the tomb. I opened my right eye, just a little. Quickly I closed it. My left eye was so swollen, it could not open. The air was heavy and there was a smell of damp earth. I listened. Surely someone must be near me. I moved my hands cautiously. I could feel on my right a crumbly earthen wall. Was I in a tomb? Buried alive? My eye flew open. I could see a tiny opening a little distance above.

I made a move, only to feel excruciating pain. I felt nauseated. My head pounded with pain. When the convulsion passed away, I lay exhausted, wet, clammy, awaiting the death I could not escape. Now I did not want to escape. I wanted to die. How long could I last in this tomb? Dear God, let it be quick! Why did they not bury us together? We always wanted to be together, in life and in death. My convulsive noises had brought nothing but silence. I was frightened and so ill. I began to weep chokingly. My cries resounded through the hollowness, increasing my feeling of loneliness. If only someone would hear and end my agony. My ears rang, my head reeled with dizziness. My nausea returned. Once more I was in the grip of a convulsion.

PART VI
After The Tragedy

XXIX
DUGOUT

Suddenly I felt a hand on my forehead. I stiffened with terror, unable to cry or even feel nausea. Was it the hand of death? Now I was cold all over, except my head—the hand warmed my forehead. The hand lifted. I waited for the weapon to plunge. I could not look. I kept my eye closed. I waited. The suspense would hold no longer.