Background

Childhood - Mishka "Missy" Ilyanova Mediocre. That's the word she'd use to describe her childhood. Not poor nor wealthy. As she'd gotten older and grew into adulthood, she would forget the little things that actually had made her childhood pretty decent. Like how her parents made up their own little friendly competition of seeing which language Mishka would pick up first, just in loving good fun. Her mother, being a Spanish translator for a TV-network, thought it would be her. Her father, a mechanic from Russia, who moved to USA in his youth, won that competition. They allegedly had a small celebration because of it just for fun, though Mishka was too young to remember most of it. Even though such sparks of warmth existed in her childhood, things are rarely just sunshine and roses. As the Cold war progressed and the Soviet union was a sour taste in conversation, the less and less Mishka's family saw of the neighbors. The kids on her street avoided playing with her openly, as their parents warned about Russian spies and communist sympathizers. Mishka didn't understand the 'why's' as she was just a kid, but she did understand that it was a bad thing to be. Yet she defended her father against the other kids accusations, with time she got pretty decent at running her mouth. There wasn't an argumentation she didn't attempt to win, not a bully she wouldn't bully back and not a single threat to harm her family she believed. Until she had to believe it, that is. Her parents tried to shield her from this reality as best as they could, but after her father ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and a concussion, they finally decided to move away. Smells like teen spirit The young girl had a thirst for more and L.A offered plenty, but - only to those that could afford it. The family scraped by with just a little money left each month. Second hand clothes became Mishkas style whether she wanted to or not; she simply embraced it as if it was by choice, playing it off as trendy and 'it'. But Mishka was also jealous of her peers, and wanted for more than she had. Realizing school isn't forever and she needed to make something of herself. If only she spent half of the motivation of researching which career would have the highest salary, on actually getting good grades - she might've made it. But when acceptance letters rolled in for her peers, rejection after rejection haunted the dinner table of their home. Her parents would pat her shoulder and nod sympathetically, speaking empty words of encouragement, that the next letter would surely be a Yes. And eventually, it arrived. She'd applied to a nursing program just as a backup plan, she never thought it was gonna be her only option. Young adult Between studies and endless parties, money - borrowed or earned, didn't matter. All of it slowly trickled away into rivers of alcohol, nightclubs, dates and the occasional drugs. Both living like there's no tomorrow and wrapping up finals for the future. Life was wild and it was good. Until the gang came around looking for their money, which she had stupidly once borrowed without a second thought. But the money was long gone, nothing saved and basically zero to give back. From that moment on she was stuck. Doing odd jobs, petty theft, robbery and whatever else the gang demanded of her. All to cover the dept she owed and a interest rate that suspiciously seemed to bite off near anything of value she brought in and barely putting a dent on her dept. They didn't really try to hide it either, and she couldn't do much about it. Except for something very stupid. She ran away. 9th March 1993 Smoke bellowed out of the car's busted engine. Matthew had tried to fix whatever had broken for hours by then, before firmly slamming the lid shut. Mishka felt a little bit of petty satisfaction from his failure, for her this only meant it would take longer for them to get back to Los Angeles. Longer to face the consequences of her own actions. The car had broken down by the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky. She would say something sarcastic, he would answer in kind - a game of banter she'd gotten used to over the past days in his company. Making the fact that he had extorted her to follow him back to the gang, feel less shitty. Nothing good awaited her back at home, she knew that. But whatever would have happened, it was probably less terrifying than the event that would let Louisville keep them. She had heard about strange things happening, electronics that malfunctioned, strange sightings, theories and most of them conspiratorial. At an instant reality flipped over like a coin toss. Even if she had believed the rumors and gossip, it couldn't have prepared her. It couldn't have prepared anyone.