January 22, 1905.
I woke up, and it felt just like any other day. If I had known what would occur today I would have tried desperately to go back to sleep and dream it all away. Instead, I got out of bed, and prepared myself for another day in St. Petersburg, Russia.
As I ate my porridge I thought about my brother, he was going today to petition for improved working conditions, fairer wages and to change their work hours from 11 hours a day to 8 hours(1). Many different workers had been protesting for over a year (2), but this time there would be more workers than ever before. I was also worried about my brother, even though the protesters were peaceful; “Father Georgy Gapon had organized a legitimate demonstration of the assembly of Russian working men,” among whom was my brother. Protests can be dangerous and are not always safe, so I decided to go and check on him. I quickly finished eating and started running towards the winter palace.
As I got there I saw Father Gapon, he was leading the marchers, a group of over 300,000 workers, to the winter palace, preparing to petition to Tsar Nicholas II(1) (Father Gapon did not know however that Tsar Nicholas II had left Petersburg a week or two earlier(2)). I searched for my brother in the crowd, but because it was so crowded, I could not find him. I continued to walk alongside the crowd of workers, hoping to spot my brother, and after a while the crowd stopped, they had finally made it to the palace.
Everyone just stood there while Father Gapon rapped on the gates, they were locked. I could see The Imperialist Guard behind them, I pushed through the crowd to get a better look, and I could just make out the guards. Directed by Grand Duke Vladimir (the Tsar’s uncle) attempted to disperse the protesters by holding their guns up and shooting a warning shot at the sky (1). I was shocked that they considered the crowd a threat. The warning fires caught the attention of the protesters but they still didn’t move from their positions. So the Guard started to fire into the crowd (1). I began to run away as the crowd broke into hysterics as people got shot while others were trampled to death (1). I tried desperately to escape the mob of people while the crowd overtook where I had been standing, they pushed me, and that made it even harder to escape into one of the alleys. I heard some shots from somewhere else; maybe from the crowd, I could not be sure. I was finally able to get into an alley, I shrunk down, exhausted, and I finally began to contemplate what had happened. I was horrified at the Imperialist Guards for the unjustified massacring of the protesters. Why had they done this the guards? Maybe they though that the protesters were armed, and/or a threat? I sat there helpless, as I watched people being massacred right in front of my eyes. I lowered my head, only to lift it back up when I heard my name spoken aloud. “Mina, what are you doing here?!” I turned and I saw my brother standing next to me. “I came looking for you, I was worried.” I replied.
“Let’s go.” My brother and I walked out onto the streets, there were bodies everywhere. I hid my eyes, hoping that the ghostly faces on the ground would stop staring back at me.
Ten months later
For some reason Tsar Nicholas II got blamed for what had happened on what people called Russia’s Bloody Sunday (1). After Bloody Sunday, the dead numbered 105 and a few hundred more people who were injured on that day (2). The leader Gapon was assassinated a few days ago by The Combat Organization of the Socialist-Revolutionary Party. I just hope that I will be able to forget what I saw on Bloody Sunday.