For me, it wasn't so easy to change... I had to move schools because my parents thought I would be better off if I went to an international school. They didn't care one bit about my opinion or my friends. So they transferred me to an international school in Spain since I know Spanish on another level, making me almost fluent in it. But they were wrong, thinking I'm better here. Girls bullied me because of a stereotype that isn't true about Slavic people. And the boys? Oh, they were even worse. They called me "Vodka girl". The teachers were nice, even though my grades dropped in this school, but they tried to make my grades better by giving me a tutor. The tutor was one of my classmates, and she was a girl. Surprisingly, she didn't make fun of me, even though we were clearly different. She was the reason I became better. She made me a better student, and I even got to fit in the class! I had friends, even a crush who liked me back! We even went to prom together. He and I went on romantic dates, hung out at the park often and helped each other in school. I thank that girl a hundred times for saving my life.
Once I finished middle school, I went to a musical high school so I could be a singer. I dreamt of it every day, hoping that I would make it, and I made it. I remember standing in front of the high school I always wanted. I was still in contact with my boyfriend, and we were on call every night talking about our day, how we missed each other and so on. I took singing lessons and even some electric guitar lessons. I had so much fun.
The first year of high school passed by, and I made some new friends. Their names were Mina, Natasha, Maria and Lisa. Mina was the nerd of the group; she always carried her notebook with all the instrument chords we had to know for our upcoming concert. Her hair was always up, so it was a shocker to see her with her hair down. Natasha was my best friend, and she was also transferred from Russia to Madrid. We had matching bracelets and tattoos on the right of our lower waists. She had an album of all our selfies and pictures hung on the wall in her room. Maria was the mom of the group. She always carried an aid kit in her bag for us, and somehow, we always needed it. She also had gums, a hairbrush, makeup, extra tissues and wet wipes "in case something happens". Lisa was also a foreigner, but from South Korea, Seoul. She had the best skincare products and clothes you could only find in Korean malls, and not cheaper versions of low quality on Shein. And me.
I haven't introduced myself properly from the start, so here I go! My name is Katarina Damirova Vugdalic. You must think I'm Slavic, right? Well, you are correct. I am from Russia, St. Petersburg. I was the translator of the group. I always had to translate the Spanish menus in restaurants or cafes, for them, because they only spoke English and their mother tongue. But, enough about me, let's go back to the story.
After the first year of high school, my friend group and I celebrated by going on vacation together. We went to the Bahamas for a whole month! Natasha found herself a boyfriend there and was sad when we needed to go back to Spain. We partied every night and got so drunk that we sang "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion. After we came back, we still had two months of summer break, so we filled it with sleepovers, prank calling, singing karaoke, dance battles, going on shopping sprees and so on.
After the summer break, the school year was tough, but we managed to finally perform in public with the band we created last year. I went viral on all social media platforms, and we became famous in a week! We got a lot of money, and we were smart enough to save it for later.
One day, when I was walking from school, someone was following me. I began to walk faster until I realised it was a man with a knife. It must have been a stalker. I managed to come home, and I told my parents, but they, unexpectedly, laughed like it was some kind of joke. I got angry and went to my room. I went to bed and tried to fall asleep, but I could still feel someone was watching me. You know that feeling when you don't see anyone, but they see you. Yeah! That was it!
When I turned my body to face the window, I saw the same man who was following me breaking through my window and entering my room. He took my hands and tied them behind my back. He put a mask on my face and closed my mouth so I couldn't scream. I was being kidnapped. There was a blank. The moment I opened my eyes, I was in a shed, and the man was standing in front of me with a devilish grin on his face as he stared right into my soul. When he told me I was in St. Petersburg, I looked at him in shock. He gave me an offer to stay with him or die. Of course, I chose to stay with him because I didn't want to die young.
After months and months of staying with that unknown man, I started to forget about my life in high school, my friends and my family. And after I asked him who he was, he said he was my long-lost brother who my parents gave away many years ago to the mafia. It didn't make any sense because my parents were the mafia.