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Katarina Lebedev


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Name: Katarina Lebedeva

DOB: July 26, 1992

Birth Place: District Lublin, Moscow

Lineage: Matvei Lebedev, Manya Lebedeva

 

CHAPTER ONE

THE PAST:

Born late July of 1992 in Russia, I was the only child to Manya and Matvei Lebedev. My father was my best friend. He would part from me most days and nights to handle 'business', he would say. I recall sitting in my small gray room on my tiny wooden bed, counting the hours before I would see him again. That I could go outside and breathe in the fresh air, accompanied by his hand. When he would part, my mother would come into my room to tell me to stay quiet, and not to leave the room. As she disappeared she would close the door - a sound of the creaky latch sending chills down my spine. I knew what she was doing was wrong. But I knew the consequences of speaking against my mother. Always a different pair of boots echoing the floors, the sound of my mother's laugh bellowing down the hall. I would pull the wool bunny to my chest, closing my eyes as I counted and wished for his return. I was fortunate to spend twelve years with my parents - until the darkest night of my life occurred.

 

My eyes would open at an unusual hour, my father hovering above me as he had a look of something rare - pure fear - in his eyes. Immediately he placed his large rough hand over my mouth and I remained quiet. He leaned down, brushing a bit of my golden blonde back as he whispered within my ear. "Katarina. Listen closely. You are to hide within your wardrobe. Do not make sound. Do not come out. Close your eyes. Hold your ears. Quiet like mouse. And remember I love you, Kitty Kat." I was alarmed, absolutely terrified - but I trusted him with every ounce of myself. I rushed to the wardrobe whilst ushered by my father, jumping inside as he closed it gently behind me. I did as I was told. From there, I could hear the muffled sound of many boots trampling echo through the home. I suddenly heard a sound I hadn't yet heard before - the ringing of gunfire. My nose crinkled at the smell of the foreign gunpowder. But I waited and trusted. I counted in my head, as I had done many times before whilst awaiting him. 

 

I had counted, and counted until I was purely exhausted. I released my hands from my ears as I now listened to silence. I hesitantly opened the door to my wardrobe - stepping out in my night gown as I moved to my open bedroom door. I peered from it, down the hall as it remained the same. However, the horror that was to be found in my parents bedroom is too much to fathom, therefore I will leave out the details. There will always be a part missing from me. 

 

 

Having lost both of my parents, I found myself on a plane to the States. I met by my Aunt and Uncle who seemed to be well off in life. I attended a school in Colorado, learned to speak English, and learned much about American culture until I was sixteen. I had then decided to move back to Moscow where I resided with extended family until I made my final move to Los Santos when I turned twenty-three. I had also formally changed my surname from Lebedeva to Lebedev, as I had taken complete pride in my father's name. 

 

(Haven't ever posted in forums before - this will be my first character story and have been playing this character for months. I do not have any prior screenshots - but will portray her story as I write - and as the character continues to develop, will post additional chapters and future screenshots.)

 

 

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