"And so you should all remember, as Der Fuhrer Hitler said, 'The stronger must dominate and not mate with the weaker, which would signify the sacrifice of its own higher nature. Only the born weakling can look upon this principle as cruel, and if he does so..."
"Drip, drop. Drip, drop..."
All I can hear is the rain falling dawn. The dark blue sky. The storm. Everything is blurred.
Is it the rain or my tears? I really don't know. I can only feel death approaching. Its footsteps are light, but no, it cannot escape my ears. I can hear it coming towards me. It's getting closer and closer...But what did it come for? My soul? No, I don't have one anymore, lost mine along with the badge. I know, death can hear my heartbeat. It’s beating fast, really, really fast, like a horse, running in full speed. It then bumps into a wall. The wall pushes it down to the ground. It pushes it hard, harder than it can ever bear. It pushes the life out of him. No, that's not enough, it doesn't satisfy death.
But what can be worse than death?
Surely there is something. There has to be.
First thing I knew, I was running through the storm. Criss-crossing through the endless passage-ways. Tears trickled down my face, combining with the rain. It was the only thing that was keeping me awake, giving me conscious.
It was cold, freezing. The icy rain poured down on me, sinking into my skin, like an ice burg trying to cover me up, sucking away my soul. The wind blowed roughy on my face, cutting through my flesh. And the storm, well, it was worst inside than out.
It was a feeling I cannot describe, now even after that time that has passed. Loss, guilt, sorrow, anxiety, anger... I couldn't feel my hands, my arms, my legs. All I could feel was numbness. I covered my entire body.
I let my legs keep going, running as fast as they could. I couldn't feel them, nor did I know where they were taking me. But I had to run. I had to find it. Even if it was at the end of the world.
This all started a month ago, on my tenth Birthday.
That was the best day of my life. The proudest one ever.
It was March first, 1943. After a quick birthday party, I did the most amazing thing in the whole wide world, something that made me proud everyday of my life— papa took me to sign up for Jungmädelbund, the young girl's league. It became my dream when I was four years old, and that day it finally came true.
What made me even prouder was that it was papa who took me there. Papa, the strongest and most powerful person I've ever met. Papa, my biggest idol, well, maybe except for Fuhrer Hitler. He always knew what to do, and always made the right decisions, even in the hardest of times. Every time I see Papa, he’s always in his smart uniform, covered with millions of badges that don't ever seem to stop growing. Apart from his uniform, he has the most handsome face— blond hair, thick eyebrows, dashing blue eyes and a clean shaven chin. But that is not why I love him. I love my Papa because he is strong and always lifts me up to sit on top his shoulders. Papa has large hands and a terrific smile that he only keeps for Mama and me. He never smiles to anyone else, not to say the other uniformed men that often come to our house for dinner. But I don’t mind. I don't like them at all. Their voices aren't as loud and clear as Papa's and they're certainly not as nice.
Sadly, Papa was rarely at home. Sometimes I didn't even get to see him in months. Those days were unbearable. I sat and waited in front of the door everyday, and every night I was woken up by the tiniest of noises. Every time papa came home he would bring me a Blatt, a leaf he picked off the ground wherever he went to. I kept them all in my huge autumn box, this way I could bury my face into them whenever I miss him. "Wo ist mein schöner kleiner Engel?", "Where is my beautiful little angel?", He would always say. Those were my favorite words.
I didn't know papa much. Every time we discussed our Eltern's jobs in class I could only say my papa worked for the Nazis. That was all I knew, but it was enough. It was enough to make all my friends turn around and look at me, envy dashing in their eyes. I can't tell you how proud I was at those times.
But now I myself am a member of the Nazi Party. The best birthday gift ever.
When we got back home, Mama brought out a huge chocolate cake, iced with white poppies and a beautiful dove on top. I ran into Mama's arms and hugged her, "Danke Mama, Ich liebe den Kuchen!" And I did, I loved the cake. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I turned off the lights, and we all sat down. Papa took out his lighter and lit up the candles. They sang happy birthday to me, it was soft, warm, joyful. I felt like the luckiest girl on Earth.
When the song ended, I pulled my hands together and made a wish. I closed my eyes and thought hard. Then I blowed the candles. They all went out. My wish was made.
"What did you wish for?", Papa said.
"It doesn't count as a wish anymore if I let you know."
Papa smiled. "We'll keep the secret, I promise."
I looked at Mama, she was smiling too.
"Ich möchte die Welt zu einem besseren Ort machen, I wish to make the world a better place."
Papa leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Good wish, Engel. I know you can do it, today was your first step." He grinned. I grinned too.
I looked at Mama, she had long, golden hair, deep brown eyes, a high nose and pink mouth. Mama had a beautiful voice. She always sang to me before I went to bed. When ever I was confused, she was always there to guide me, to comfort me.
Mama and Papa haven't been getting long very well recently. Last night I heard them arguing, but the volume was so low I could only figure out some bits and pieces. "I don't want my one and only daughter..." "It's the right choice." "But...what are you teaching her?" "...our fatherland is...needs us..." "So you go killing innocent people?" The voices stopped. Everything went quiet.
Mama was supposed to come with us this afternoon, but she stayed at home instead. Papa told me Mama was having a stomach ache. I knew that wasn't the reason, but I looked into his face. He looked for the first time lost and concerned. Or could there be a bit of regret? No, Papa never regretted anything. I didn't go any further.
The flash back stopped. For one moment Mama almost seemed to be happy. She looked at me, and then looked back at the candles. She sighed. Mama carefully pulled out the candles and walked to the bin. She held them tight. Did I see her crunch them beneath her fingers? No, she certainly wouldn't.
Papa seemed to read my thoughts. He wasn't happy about it, "Come on, Engel, why don't you cut the cake? You can eat the dove."
Mama carefully twisted the dove off, and handed it to me. I started examining it. The tiny dove was made out of white Schokolade, with seeds as eyes and an olive branch in its beak. The tail and wings seemed to be very delicately made, along as it's chubby body.
"I can't eat it, Mama. It's too beautiful to be destroyed. I'm gonna keep it safe and cozy."
Papa raised an eyebrow and laughed. Mama laughed too. She gently stroked my hair. There was something different about her smile this time. She didn't hide anything. She really was happy.
I took the dove and carefully placed it on top of my draw, as if it cost a billion pounds. I had to tip toe to do that. That way, I thought, no one would be able to reach it.
Later that night, before I went to sleep, Papa came into my room with something in his hand. He had his serious face on, the one that tells you to listen carefully and not play any jokes.
"What's there in your hand, Papa?" I asked.
"It was your brothers."
I thought we agreed on not talking anymore about this.
Papa sat down beside me, forcing me into the blankets. It felt cold, the blankets. Colder than the outside.
Tears trickled down my cheeks. No. I don’t want that memory back. Leave me alone.
A hand came and gently wiped them off. It was Mama. I didn't hear her come in. Mama put her arms around my shoulders and gently rocked me back and forth. I cuddled into her arms, feeling her temperature. I was warm and loved. I was with my family. He wasn't.
I lost control and cried. Papa stroked my back, but I wouldn't stop. I just cried and cried. He seemed to realize that and cleared his throat.
"Mathilde Ribbentrop", he began, he only called my full name when he was very, very serious, "You still remember four years ago, when Hermann died in a train crash?"
Yes. I do. Thank you, Papa. I’ve been trying to forget this everyday of my life, yet now you bring it back to me.
"I didn't tell you the details back then, 'cause you were only 6, but now you're a part of the Jungmädelbund, there are some things you have to understand."
My heart trembled at this.
Mama shifted slightly, she was uncomfortable. I could tell that what was coming up may not be her favorite thing to hear.
"That day your Bruder didn't have to die. When the train slipped off the track and was going to crash into the rushing stream, the doors were opened. Hermann was standing in front of the door. He could've went out. One step. Just one step and he would be sitting here with us today. But he wouldn't. Your Bruder heard a sharp cry on the other side of train, so he pushed back through the loud, screaming crowd, running in the opposite direction. Through all the rush and the mess, he finally found the baby, crying his eyes out under a passenger seat. It was a Jewish baby, your Bruder could tell. The sharp edge sinked into his cheek, blood was everywhere. Hermann hesitated. He held up the baby, but it was already too late. The train was dropping. He searched the closest exit, holding the baby in one hand and climbing with the other. At last Hermann finally found it, but he only just had time to hand the baby over to the closest man when the last part of the train broke free and it smashed into the stream. The baby reached out to grab him, but all he caught hold of was the silver badge coming loose off his uniform. And so this is all we have left off him."
With that, Papa opened up his palm and revealed what was left of my dear Bruder, my best friend, the most important person to me in the whole world.
I stopped crying. There were no more tears left. I wanted to reach for the badge. I wanted to hold it, to feel it. To feel him. But I couldn't. My hands were shaking. My muscles were frozen. My heart stung like thousands of needles pricking through it.
It was an Iron cross, with black in the middle and silver for the edge. In the centre of the cross was the Hakenkreuz, the swastika. Below it printed "1939", the year he earned it. The year he died.
Hermann was so proud of it. He wore it every single day with his uniform, pinned to his breast pocket. He would never stop talking about it. How it was awarded to him in his very first battle for his bravery. I used to get so annoyed. Now I just wish I could hear his voice one more time.
Hermann and I were so close. Although he was 15 years older than me, he walked me to school every morning and picked me up every afternoon. I had to wait a bit for his classes to end though, but I didn’t mind. On the way we would talk about our evil plans for the days, how we had millions more detention to attend and how we had thousands of homework to finish. We used to do everything together. Fishing, swimming, working, stealing, cooking, playing... We even had our fights together. I cheered for his fights and he helped me in mine. Hermann was the comfort for all of my hardships and my company whenever I felt lonely. Nothing could separate us. Well, except for death.
I still remember that day. It was raining very, very heavily. Hermann was on the train back home after victory of the Battle of Bzura. We, along as thousands of other families, were standing in the crowded train station, flowers in our hands. I was so happy, so excited. I couldn’t wait to see my Bruder.
Then I heard a loud crash.
People started shouting and yelling and running all over the place. They went absolutely crazy.
"Papa! What's happening!" I cried.
Papa held my hands tight. "Hold on to me. I..."
But I couldn't hear his voice over the screams. I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I had to get to my Bruter.
I broke away from Papa and ran towards where the crashing sound came from.
"Mathilde!" I heard.
I didn't care.
I didn't have time to.
When I finally broke through the crowds I saw the train Hermann was on. It was completely off the railroad track. The tail rested on the edge off the road while it's head tipped into the stream. I could tell that it wouldn't stay much longer.
The train doors were opening. People started running out, or climbing should I say.
It was a piece of mess. People were running in every direction. I tried to get as close as I could to the train, scanning every single face I could see. One by one, crowd by crowd.
I didn't see him.
"Mathilde! Where are you?"
I didn't move. I dared not shift my eyes off.
The crowd started slowing down. There were less and less people coming off.
"Crack", the train shifted again. It's bottom, the last bit on land was slowly bending towards the air.
"Mathilde!"
Papa was here. He crouched down and embraced me. I stopped looking. There was no more hope. Tears poured out of my eyes.
No. Hermann couldn't be dead. I didn't want to see the train crash , but I didn't want him to slip past my eyes either.
I looked back at the train. The last door that someone could possibly climb out off. It was 90 degrees straight now. The train was starting to fall. But Hermann could still find his way out. I knew he could.
Then I saw a head pop out from the door, a baby lifted out.
"Papa! Papa it's Hermann!"
That did it. Papa looked up. He fled towards the train.
He only just had time to get the baby out. Hermann stretched out his hand and Papa reached to grab it.
He didnt.
The train fell and crashed into the water. It made a huge splash.
I couldn’t recall anything after that. Everything went blank.
My flash back ended. I shivered. My heart was broken into pieces.
I looked away from the Iron cross, trying to turn my attention to something else.
Mama was still cuddling me, placing her head gently on top of mine.
"Your Mama and I decided to give this to you today for a reason, Mathilde. You're a part of the Nazi Party now. We want you to always remember it was a Jew that killed your Bruter..."
It was Mama who interrupted him, "Horst, can we not say it this way? He was just a baby."
"Gisela, I thought we already talked about this. Please, this time just let me do the talking."
"Look at your daughter. You're hurting her."
And he was. I'm pretty sure my eyes were red and swollen from all the crying. But I wanted to hear the rest. I was boiling with anger.
"Carry on, Papa."
Mama turned her head and sighed.
"Like I said, if it wasn't for the Jew, Hermann would still be alive. I want you to understand that the Jews are our enemy. They were, are, and always will be. If we don’t get rid of them, they'll soon take our jobs, our family, our everything. Before you even know the Jews will be ruling the world..."
Mama held me tighter. She grabbed on to me with so much force it hurt.
Papa gently put the Iron cross in my shaking palms, he then covered them up with his large, warm hands. "I want you to have this." He said, "I want you to remember my words everyday of your life."
"You will remember, won't you?"
"Yes." My voice cracked.
"Good girl, mein Engel." He withdrew his hands and patted my head.
Anger and hatred filled up my lunges. I held the badge tight, squeezing it beneath my palms. The iron edges sinked into my skin, I didn't feel the pain. I promised myself I wouldn't feel it anymore, not until I finished what my Bruter had started.
Papa raised his right arm from his neck to the air. "Heil Hitler!" He said.
"Heil Hitler!"
My voice didn’t break this time. It was firm and strong.
From that day on, I quit everything I used to do with Hermann, and started studying and training like crazy. I was going to be a Nazi warrior, to help my fatherland, to make the world a better place.
Starting from then I never doubted my self. Well, not until today when I lost him.
All this hit me so hard that. The memories. The pain.
My lungs, my chest, my face, my legs were burning. They have been burning for ages. My whole body was on fire.
No, I told myself. Forget it. Just forget it all. The past doesn't matter anymore.
Then suddenly everything became clear again. My conscious came back. I gasped for air to refill my lungs. They felt like they were going to crack open, empty for too long. But the air was thin. There was no oxygen to spare.
I broke up and tumbled down the passage way, collecting cuts and bruises. I couldn't stop myself. My muscles wouldn't allow me, my will just wasn't there. I didn't care anymore.
I was stopped by a thick piece of wall that crashed into my face. To my surprise it didn't really hurt. Something must have been broken. I raised my shaking hands and touched my forehead, it was warm and sticky. Being too dark to see, I put a finger to my tongue. Blood.
I wanted to stand up, to keep on looking, but there was no strength left. So instead I just sat there, lying back on the wall.
The rain was coming to a stop. All I could hear was the tip-tapping on the roofs. The figures around me were becoming clearer and clearer. Light was showing up. Was it daytime already?
Oh no. I need to get back home. Mama must be so worried.
Soon it was bright enough for me to see the way. I gently pulled my legs together, leaning on the wall for support. My muscles ached like hell. Then I managed to stand up, tumbling forwards.
There were millions of trials ahead of me, going in every direction and taking you to places you would never expect, but I knew my way back. You could never be lost having spent your days with Hermann.
I thought about it and smiled. Just for a second I thought I was being myself again.
But then I heard a noise. I looked around, but there was nothing to see. It was a dirty place, with all the mud and dirt on the ground. To my right was a huge garbage pile, stacked high enough to reach the building.
Did I just see something move?
Yes, I must have.
If it was before I definitely wouldn't be walking toward a garbage pack, but I was so filthy at then I didn't care if I smelled a little more.
Then I saw something move again. It didn't just move, piles began falling from the top. After a while of shifting and falling a tiny figure popped out.
Was it a head?
I rubbed my eyes and squeezed my cheeks. After making sure I wasn't dreaming I walked closer toward the garbage pile and stared into it.
Yes, it was. It was a boy.
He fell down from the pile and hit the ground. Standing up, he looked into my eyes. He was around four years old. He had long, messy black hair, dark beady eyes, a large hooked nose and drooping eyelids. The first thing that came into mind — It was a Jew. But why was it here then? As the news spread through school, the last stock of Jews has already been transported into concentration camps a few nights ago. There should be none left.
My heart started beating again, blood was running through my body. Although we were standing meters apart, I could hear its heart beats, smell its dirty breath. Mud covered its clothes, ripped and scattered across the skinny body, obviously too large in the first place. But that wasn't what caught my attention.
In the middle of its cheek was a thick, deep scar, one that looked like it had been there for a long long time.
The Jew looked no more than four years old...
The flashbacks just won’t stop.
It was a Jewish baby, your Bruder could tell. The sharp edge sinked into his cheek...
No, it wasn't possible.
I stared at the Jew. I could see the fear in its eyes, its trembling legs and shattering hands. I wanted to report on it, I wanted to run for help, to find a Nazi officer, but my legs just wouldn't move. I wanted to hate the Jew. I disliked all of them, especially that one, but for some reason I just couldn't get angry.
We want you to always remember it was a Jew that killed your Bruter. If it wasn't for the Jew, Hermann would still be alive...
I know, Papa. I do remember and I always will, but Hermann saved this Jew. He gave in his own life for it, there must be a reason. I don't know why and I will find out, but before then I need to keep this Jew alive. Because Hermann never makes any mistakes.
"Hallo." I said, "I'm Mathilde."
He was called Daniel, and was four and a half years old. He spoke fluent German, growing up in Berlin. Daniel's parents died when he was born and he was adopted by another Jewish family, but they were all took away by the Nazis last week. On that day Daniel's Papa sensed something and told him to hide under the garbage pile until he thought it was safe outside. He had been hiding there ever since, coming out only at midnight and eating from trash he could find. When I asked him about the train he said he didn't remember. But that didn't matter, I had made my mind up.
Getting back was difficult. It was still very early in the morning, but some doors and windows were starting to open. We had to pick the darkest and most narrow paths to cross through to avoid being seen. It took a lot more time than it would have, but we finally got there.
When we reached the familiar doorstep I told Daniel to go and hide in the garage, and that I'll come to find him as soon as I got things settled. Daniel didn't look sure about this but he did as he was told, keeping his tiny feet as gentle as possible so he wouldn't make any footprints.
I took a deep breath and raised my hand to the door. I could hear Mama shouting anxiously at the telephone, sobbing at the same time. It took a few seconds before I had enough courage to knock on it.
Right after I made that sound the door opened. I could see Mama's expression turn instantly from despair to surprise.
"Oh Mathilde where have you been! I've been so worried!"
"I..."
Mama didn't let me finish the sentence, she rushed in and hugged me so tight it was hard to breath. After a minute she let go.
"What happened Mathilde! Oh my Lord is that blood on you head? What did you do to yourself? Where have you been all this time it's now 6 o'clock in the morning!"
Seeing the worried expression on Mama's face I couldn't help anymore but break into a cry. That seemed to slow Mama down a bit. She gently lifted me up and carried me into the living room, shutting the door behind. Mama put me down on the sofa and stroked my back, allowing me to rest on her chest. When I felt a bit better she went into the kitchen to make me a cup of hot chocolate and a warm sausage sandwich. While I ate I explained to her everything that happened last night, how I lost the badge, slipped and bumped my head against a wall while looking for it in the storm, trying to exaggerate every bit of it as I went along.
When I was finished, (of course leaving behind the part when I found Daniel) Mama hugged me again.
"Don't worry darling, it's just a badge. Your Bruter will always be within our hearts, and that's what's important. Now why don't go take a shower while I make a few phone calls. I need to let Papa know that you're back."
"Ok but can you not tell Papa that I lost the badge? I don't want him to be disappointed in me."
"Oh darlin I'm sure he won't be, but I'll keep it a secret for now."
Having that shower was the best thing of my life. I was so filthy and dirty that by the time I got out the floor was covered with mud. I wanted to spend my whole life under that warm water that was spraying gently on my skin, but I couldn't get my mind off of Daniel. The whole time I was thinking about how to get him in the house without Mama noticing, and then I came up with an idea.
As I got out I put on the new clothes Githa, the house maid had prepared, and walked into the living room.
"Oh look at you Mathilde, you're good as new! Now come and let me tie your hair up. The doctor will be here any minute."
I took a deep breath and put on my most innocent face. "Ok Mama, but there's no more Schokolade at home and I really want to eat some, can you please go and buy some chocolate?"
"Ok darling I'll tell Githa to go and get some for you."
"But Mama only you know which ones I like."
"Don't be silly. Of course Githa knows what you want. She gets it for you all the time."
I got my tongue twisted and didn’t know what else to say. Clearly Mama had won this argument.
"But this time I want a different kind Mama."
"How would I know what you want then? Look darlin, just tell Githa what you want, ok? I'm very busy. When's the last time you saw me go out to get any food?"
"Ok I'm sorry Mama." I thought this would be easy, now I'll just have to think of another way.
"Now come and sit down, Mathilde. You're lucky it's a Saturday today."
Just as I was trying to figure out what to do, the doorbell rang. Mama went to open the door.
"Hi Ma'am, can Mathilde come with me to the park? I'm brought my new dog with me today, it's a German Shepherd!" That was Andrea, my BFF. As my neighbor, we have been together all our lives and often go out after school and in the weekends.
Oh wow, Andrea's new German Shepherd! We’ve been looking forward to this for such a long time! But no, I have more important things to worry about today.
Just as I was figuring out how to phrase my words, Mama spoke. "I'm sorry Andrea, Mathilde would very like to go out with you, but she just got injured and the doctor's coming soon. Maybe another time?"
As Andrea left I got an excellent idea. "Oh Mama!" I yelled, "I nearly forgot! You remember Charles, the boy that I like? He's coming round today! Can I go meet him at the gates at 8 o'clock, after the doctor leaves? Bitte Mama this is very very important!"
Mama hesitated a bit, but then she smiled. "Only if the doctor says yes."
"I love you Mama!" I shouted as I ran up to hug her.
"There you are, Daniel. Good news, I found a way to get you into the house, but you'll have to pretend to be my boyfriend." I announced as I found Daniel asleep under the car.
"Your boyfriend? But I'm only four!"
"Yes. That's why I brought a bag. You're going to wear those jeans, shoes, T-shirt, hat, and sunglasses. They're what Charles always wears." I said proudly as pulled those items one by one out of my bag. "Oh and I can't let Mama see you like that. You'll have to take a shower before you go in. Here's a hose and I brought a towel and soap."
"Ok then."
"Oh, and here are some Schokolade bars. You'll need to grow some more fat before you go in or else Mama will think I'm crazy."
Daniel's eyes shone as I tosses the chocolate bars to him. He tore the wrappers apart and stuffed them into his mouth as fast as he could possibly go. Then as he gobbled down the chocolate, to my surprise tears started leaking from his eyes.
"Gosh Daniel, I know Schokolade is yummy but it's not that good! And don't eat too much, I don't want Mama to think that Charles is too fat either."
Daniel didn't stop to reply. He stuffed the rest of the Schokolade into his mouth and licked his fingers along as the wrappers, doing it so fast I was afraid he would choke. When he was sure there was nothing left he then folded the wrappers and put them in his pocket.
"I haven't eaten in..." He started counting his fingers, but gave up eventually, "I don't know how many days, but this is the best thing in the whole wide world!"
If there was still something called sympathy left in the world, I definitely felt it at then. Cause I felt sorry. I felt sorry for a Jew.
"Don't worry, Daniel. I'll tell Mama to prepare something even better than Schokolade for lunch. Now clean yourself and get dressed, I'll be waiting outside."
With that I walked out of the garage, just in time to hear the cute little voice say, "I'm gonna be a boyfriend!"
"Hi Charles, I've heard a lot about you." Mama greeted Daniel. Clearly she didn't look very impressed.
"Yes, I am Charles." You could tell that Daniel was very nervous, there were goose bumps all over his arms.
"I can see you've got very cute clothes. You know, Mathilde had the exact same set when she younger."
"Yeah I like them too. They fit just well." He was happily examining his new set off clothes.
I could see Mama raise an eyebrow.
As a ten year old, I couldn't tell the difference between girls' and boys' clothes if not dresses and trousers, nor did I know that ten year old boys did not usually have butterflies and flowers all over their caps, glasses, and shoes, let alone Daniel.
"Charles wears those clothes normally too, Mama."
"Ok, well go and have fun then. Githa will call you when lunch is ready."
Lunch was embarrassing. Daniel ate so much and so fast that Mama questioned why he was so skinny. Mama even asked about his family background, and why he had a Jewish accent. "Oh no, I forgot about his accent. I should have asked him to keep quiet and not talk before we came in." I thought, but it was too late. I had to make something up. "It's because Da...No, Charles went to a Jewish school before." I said, "But because it got shut down he had to transfer to our school." Mama didn’t question any further. All this time Daniel just kept saying, "This is the best food ever, even better than chocolate!"
After lunch Mama asked Daniel when he was going back, because she was going to a friends' house for tea in the afternoon and could give him a ride if he needed one. I just told Mama that they should probably say goodbye before she leaves because "Charles" might not still be here when she comes back.
Of course, that was not the case. I made up an excuse for Githa to clean the space first, but then Daniel and I spent the whole afternoon decorating the wide area underneath the bed, putting up stickers, lights, and cushions. There was a lot of space and it was just about high enough for me to sit up. It ended up looking quite cozy.
For the next few months, that became Daniel's hiding space whenever Mama, Githa, or occasionally Papa came in. Daniel stayed in my room when I went to school and I sneaked him out when I got home. (Mama never goes into my room when I'm not there and I told Githa not to go in either.) We found lots of secret places to play in, abandoned factories and beautiful fields that no one else had ever wondered into. On Sundays when it was warm, we would go swimming in the rivers, splashing water and chasing around. At night, I would lock the door and lift the heavy extra mattress, blanket, and pillow out of my wardrobe for Daniel to sleep in, but when there were thunderstorms Daniel would climb onto the bed and cuddle close to me. Daniel was scared of thunderstorms, he said. They reminded him of the night his family got took away. But I liked thunderstorms. They reminded me of the night I found him. The night that I changed into an entirely different person. Mama once asked me why I locked the door. I told her "I'm a grown up girl now", and that was true. She smiled and nodded.
Meals were easy. I just told the cook to make an extra dish. I would then bring it in for Daniel to finish. She never asked why.
Days were getting better and better. Soon Daniel looked like a normal human being again, with pink cheeks and some fat in his body.
It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and I took Daniel swimming after I came back from training in the Jungmädelbund.
Halfway up the river I saw something that caught my eye. There was a piece of silver stuck in the mud. Taking a deep breath, I dived down into the water.
It was Hermann's silver cross. I stared at it, stretching my arms down to stroke the smooth surface
"C'mon Mathilde! What are you doing!" Daniel shouted from ahead.
I retrieved my hand.
"Mathilde I'm way ahead of you!"
I shut my eyes and went back to the surface, splashing water at Daniel as I swam toward him.
I didn't look back.
Some things were better left behind.
It was getting close to October 2, the exciting day in which girls who have passed the Jungmädelprobe, the Jungmädel challenge become full members of the Jungmädelbund. I often daydreamed about passing the challenges and being in that ceremony, officially presented with the right to wear the black neckerchief and brown leather knot. It would be so cool, so handsome. Papa would be so proud of me.
Training harder than ever, I am now one of the top members of my age, and have only a few more sport requirements I need to meet before the deadline. School classes however, have been becoming harder to bear with Daniel in mind.
I still remember clearly that day, when again, Du Kuhlbert began talking about how all Jews were cruel, lazy, filthy creatures who make other people work for them and don't do anything themselves.
I have restrained myself for such a long time I just couldn't anymore, so I raised my hand.
"But Du Kuhlbert, how do you know that all Jews are cruel, lazy, and filthy? Maybe there's one who isn't."
"I beg your pardon?"
"How can you say that all Jews are bad when you haven't even met them all?"
With that I did my job. Du Kuhlbert frowned so hard his skin curved in and his face turned all red. Despite his favorite student, he came up and told me to hold my hand up. Next came five whacks that stung into my heart, in which I remembered for the rest of my life.
When I got home, Mama was first to find out. I told her all about it and she agreed not to tell Papa. "He's coming home tonight." she said, "But we will keep this a secret."
Unfortunately, Papa did not need us to know. Someone had already told him.
That night when Papa put me to bed, he said gently and calmly, "Mathilde, I'm not mad. I'm just a bit disappointed in you. How could a daughter of mine say such a thing?" I looked up at Papa, and instantly I knew he had found out already.
"Look Mathilde, don't you remember my words? Don't you miss your Bruter? If it wasn't for the Jew, Hermann wouldn't be dead. Jew's are our enemies!"
"Papa that Jew was a baby! It was Hermann's choice to save him, maybe he made the choice for a reason!"
Papa stood up and pulled the blanket over me, but I refused to lie down.
"I don't want to discuss this anymore. You should know better. Baby or not, that creature killed your Bruter!"
Underneath I could hear a tiny fist punching on the cushions, a small foot stomping on the carpet. The noise was tremendous. It shook my ears.
"He didn't!" I shouted. "You're just saying this to make yourself feel better! Because you are the really murderer! You were there when Hermann died Papa! You didn’t catch him!"
With that Papa slapped me, knocking the wardrobe as his hands went by. The wardrobe wobbled and the dove fell off, smashing into pieces. It was the first time ever Papa ever touched me. The moment his palm went out he regretted it, and pulled me into a hug. I could feel water dripping on my hair. Was that Papa crying?
I didn’t cry that night. I regretted nothing.
At last, it was announced that I have passed the Jungmädelprobe. It was the day of the ceremony.
I got up at five o'clock in the morning, dressing into my full uniform, with at last the black neckerchief and the brown leather knot on top. I stared at myself through the mirror— now a full member of the Jungmädelbund under a beautiful uniform. The uniform did look smart, no doubts, but was that really me underneath it? I couldn’t give an answer.
That day I rushed quickly out of the house, kissing Daniel goodbye.
"Good luck Mathilde!" He called out as I left.
I rushed to the gates, joining Mama and Papa for the walk. I stood between them, my smalls hands stuck in theirs. At that very second, I felt like the luckiest girl on Earth.
But that wasn't for long. When we got to the ceremony, Mama and Papa kissed me goodbye, saying that when it started they'll be sitting on the front seats. But when I got into line with all my friends that have passed the Jungmädelprobe as well, I couldn't see them. A long time passed, but still, the two seats in the middle were empty. Panicking, I asked the girls beside me if they have seen my parents. One of them said yes, that she saw them talking to Charles' parents and then leave.
Oh no, Daniel! He's still in my room! My heart suddenly sank into a bottomless pitch. Gigantic rocks piled on top of me, squeezing my life out. I could not breathe anymore.
"Are you ok Mathilde?" The girl asked, "You look sick."
No. No I'm not. I'm much worse than sick.
It took a century until the ceremony ended. I didn't know what happened, nor did I care. I couldn't get Daniel out of my mind. I wanted to tell myself that he was safe, that everything was going to turn up fine, but I just couldn't.
All I knew was that the moment the doors opened I ran through the crowd and fled home, running as fast as I could. I didn't dare to stop until I reached the doorsteps. I couldn't allow myself to be late. I would never forgive myself for that, not for the rest of my life.
Flinging the door open I saw soldiers crowding the house. Mama and Papa were arguing in the living room. Daniel was held by the soldiers, yelling and crying his eyes out. To keep him quiet they just threw him on the ground, kicking and punching him. And that did the work.
"Daniel!" I screamed as I ran toward him.
The moment Papa saw me he pointed at Daniel and shouted, "What do you have to explain about that!"
"Sorry Papa it was my fault! Please don't punish Daniel! He didn't do anything it was me that hid him in my room all that time!"
Papa stared down at me. His face was hard, it was emotionless. That was the first time I could ever imagine Papa doing something bad. He looked at all the soldiers standing in the room and then looked back at me. I could hear a silent sigh. "Mathilde, you're a full member of the Jungmädelbund now, it's time you understand what we do to Jews."
With that, Papa raised his gun at Daniel.
"No Papa No!"" I cried, "Please don't." I ran toward Daniel but a soldier caught hold of me. With the last bit of strength, I bit his arm and managed to break away.
I wanted to hug Daniel even if it was for the last time.
"Boom." Papa pulled the trigger.
Everything went blank.
Turns out death isn't that scary after all.
What's even worse is a loved one dyeing in front of you. Not being able to do anything about it.
Well that isn't the case anymore