"If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty would be my name. For the rest: my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires, I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own, or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be." - Evelyn Waugh

There Was A Little Girl, Prologue

There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good
She was very, very good
But when she was bad
She was homicidal

- Time For Tea, Emilie Autumn

There are few things in her life that she can be sure of, few enough for her to be able to count on just one of her tainted hands.

Her name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.

If you asked her, that's all that she would tell you. Well… actually depending on who you are to her, she might not even answer. And if you even somehow manage to obtain her file and read it, that wasn't all there was to her. If you, with a sudden unfortunate boost of courage, asked her about it again, she'd probably cast you a look that'd make you revaluate all of your life choices. You don't just walk up to her and question her name. Who do you think you are?

Her name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.

If she asked herself, that may be all that she would be able to tell herself, or let herself admit.

Her name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.

It is a name without a past; it is a name to mask her past. From who? She isn't quite sure. She thinks it may be from herself.

It wasn't always that way.

Sometimes, she wishes it never had to be.

She wonders what it would have been like if she had held on to her past a little more.

It was a past named Natalia Alianovna Romanova.

She shudders when she thinks about that possibility. It is better this way, she concludes. Things haven't had to go the way they had, but it is better this way.

Her name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.

And that is all that matters, although it slips her mind every now and then. She has to remind herself during those moments, that while she is no longer the little girl with the pigtails and yellow ribbons, she isn't the girl without a soul anymore as well. Perhaps that soulless being wasn't even a girl.

A killer.

That was in the past, she would like to think, but sometimes she isn't sure, so she clings on to what she knows to be the truth.

My name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.

name (noun): A word or set of words by which a person or a thing is known, addressed, or referred to.

It is good enough for her, for now.

Note-

Yes, by all events I do mean all of the following: her childhood, her time in the Red Room, Drakov's daughter, São Paulo, the hospital fire, her meeting with Clint which led to her deflecting to S.H.I.E.L.D., and also Budapest, although I'm not sure if my writing style at some parts will allow me to go into specifics too much. Sorry in advance for the mixture of tenses cos I might get too confused at a few points.

They're mostly written like flashbacks and memories, so I decided not to use "quotation marks" for dialogue, and use italics instead so it might get a little confusing at times about who's speaking or who's thinking and stuff like that so... oops?

Oh yeah and by the way, I'm drawing tons of parallels between Natasha's life and so many Emilie Autumn's songs, so that would explain the use of her song lyrics at the start of every chapter.

And since I'm also a huge fan of Vampire Diaries as well so kudos to you if you happen to spot any lines from the show that I shamelessly stole.

Okay I'm finally done. Enjoy and thanks for reading! ^^

P.s. Just to let you guys know, I completed the entire story before uploading it so yeah.