The following diary entries were written by the late Viktor Petrova in 1989. The diary was recently discovered by Moscow Police after receiving an anonymous tip to re-open the cold case of “The Moscow Murderous Mother.” Officials doubted the unknown female source at first, but when the diary was found, the police immediately decided to re-open the unsolved murder, suicide case of 1989.
December 25, 1989
7:00 a.m.
It’s a Christmas miracle! My wife Anastasia and I are about
to be parents to the most beautiful baby girl in the world. At first, we were
unsure if we wanted to be told what sex she was before she was born, but I am
so glad we know. The nursery has been decorated to perfection by Ana, along
with almost every other room in the apartment; but who can blame her? She has
been the happiest she has ever been in her life during these past nine months,
apart from the countless hormonal mood swings. I can’t even imagine how she is
going to feel when she holds our little girl Natasha in her arms for the first
time.
6:00 p.m.
I can’t believe this is happening. The doctors said that
they had to perform a last-minute C-Section and Ana lost a lot of blood in the
process. Natasha is sound asleep in the nursery, but how am I supposed to love
the child who killed the most important person in my life? I know that every
time I look into her eyes I will see my Ana, lifeless on a hospital bed.
December 26, 1989
5:00 a.m.
I know Ana would have wanted me to care for our child so I
am going to try my best to stay strong. I stayed up until almost 1:00 a.m.
rocking Natasha in the chair, but the crying never ceased. The nurses had told
me that she was refusing to eat at the hospital, but I didn’t think that would
continue throughout the night. After a few hours of attempting to feed her, I
gave up and returned Natasha to her crib, where she continued to cry for
another 30 minutes. I think I dozed off somewhere between 3:00 and 3:30 a.m.,
but the crying woke me again at 4:00. I thought I heard a door shut right
before Natasha began crying again, but I know that it must be my paranoia
getting the best of me.
December 27, 1989
12:30 a.m.
Well, after one of the longest days of my life, Natasha is
finally resting. Again, I thought I heard the nursery door shut precisely at
12:00 a.m., but when I went to check on the baby, she seemed to be sleeping
peacefully.
1:30 a.m.
I keep hearing noises coming from the nursery, but every
time I go to check on Natasha, she is fast asleep. I can’t tell if the noises
are real or if they are merely a figment of my imagination, but I just want
Natasha to be safe. I don’t think I could handle losing her too.
11:30 p.m.
When Natasha and I went to the doctor for her checkup this
morning, he was surprised to hear that she was refusing to eat. I believe his
exact words were, “Natasha is perfectly healthy and actually seems to be eating
more than the average newborn.” I found this odd since she has refused me every
single time I have tried to feed her. Tonight, I am going to keep watch on the
nursery to make sure that everything is okay. I keep telling myself that I am
being paranoid, but there is still a little voice inside my head saying I am
doing the right thing. It is better to be safe than sorry and I know that once
I am reassured of Natasha’s safety, I will finally be able to get some sleep.
December 28, 1989
3:00 a.m.
I was sitting in the living room only a few feet from the
nursery when I heard the door slam shut. I hadn’t seen anyone come in the house,
but I knew I wasn’t being paranoid this time. I was quieter than normal so I
could catch the intruder; but when I opened the door, Natasha was, again, sound
asleep in the crib. However, the chair in the corner was rocking back and
forth, hitting the wall each time. I shut the door and immediately swung it
open again. There in the corner was my wife Anastasia, holding our daughter.
Natasha suckled on Ana’s breast, but when Ana looked up and saw me in the
doorway, she froze; and so did Natasha. Ana’s eyes peered into my soul, but
they were lifeless. Her skin was almost translucent and her bones seemed to
poke through. I ran over to Natasha, but right when I grabbed her I knew that
something wasn’t right. Anastasia immediately vanished into thin air and I fell
into the rocking chair, holding the now lifeless Natasha in my arms. I bawled
for what seemed like hours and finally placed my dead child back in her crib.
This bring us to now. I’m sitting here at the kitchen table
with a gun in my hand, deciding whether it’s worth it to stay on this Earth
without them…I don’t think I will ever be able to comprehend what I saw back
there...Everything I thought I knew is now irrelevant…
God, help me.
Viktor Petrova
committed suicide on December 28, 1989. Moscow Police are determined to find
the woman who is responsible for the death of Natasha Petrova; but, with no
more evidence presenting itself, these diary entries could be the closest the
officials get to finding out what happened that night.
Author's Note: My story is based on the Russian myth "The Dead Mother." In the original story, a mother dies in child birth and the child's father is left to raise her alone. The baby refuses to eat and it cries incessantly. When the nanny goes to check on the sleeping child during the night, she sees the child's mother breastfeeding the baby; but when the nanny goes to retrieve the child, it is dead. This story is extremely dark, but I wanted to make it more personal for the reader. I did this by putting it in diary entry style writing because it lets the reader hear the father's thoughts. Like in many myths, the characters are never given names, but this can also take away from the personal element that I think every story needs. I also decided to include an introduction and conclusion paragraph, discussing the case of "The Moscow Murderous Mother." Although this is a fictional case, it makes the story more intriguing and mysterious because it introduces what happens before and also discusses what happened after the last diary entry. The story of 'The Dead Mother" is a part of the book called "Russian Fairy Tales" by W. R. S. Ralston. I included the original location for the setting of my story to commemorate where the idea came from.