Beyond the Wall

Partially based on a true story. Some facts ARE true.

The year was 1962. Peter Fechter was separated from his sister, Poppy, when the Berlin Wall went up. He was lost in East Germany, and she was trapped in West. At the young age of 18, follow Peter as he tries to discover how to get back to Poppy, and back to West Berlin.


2. July 17, 1962- Peter's Perspective

"Morning, Mother." I bounded down the stairs with a slight kick in my step, something I savored, these moments were few and far between. We lived in West Berlin, the newly turned democratic half of Germany. Hitler had been taken down, WWII had ended, I didn't think life could get any better.

Until my telegram arrived. I was being sent on promotion to East Berlin for a few weeks, to lay bricks down as a foundation for a new capitol house. That's what I was, a bricklayer. It wasn't a horrible job, payed well, and I stayed close to home. But now I was off for my first adventure, I was going to the communist East Berlin. It seemed exciting for an eighteen year old, but my mother was strongly against it, believing with how dangerous East Berlin stood now, I'd be shot and killed in an instant.

"Morning." Mother repeated. Her voice rarely ever held any happiness anymore, what with father dead from the war. We were all so proud of him, he had died a brave death.

"Good morning, Peter!" Poppy ran to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Good morning, Poppy." I smiled and kissed her blonde head.

"When are you leaving?" She asked, her face contorted into a slight frown. She returned to her breakfast.

I grabbed a roll from the basket on the table and bit into it before responding. "Tomorrow." I spoke through a full mouth. Mother gave me a look. "What?" I asked, swallowing the remains of the roll. She simply shook her head and returned to the dishes.

Poppy looked up at me, her blue eyes sparkling from the sunlight leaking into the kitchen. "I don't want you to go, Peter." A tear formed in her eye and I wiped it away. "Promise you'll come back?" She asked. She was so innocent, so young.

I smiled down at her and scooped her up in my arms. "I promise Poppy. I will always find my way back to you." I held her close to me.

After a moment, I heard her whisper. "I love you always, Peter. Forever and always. Goodbye, just in case." She sniffled, starting to cry.

"Don't say goodbye," I whispered back. "I'll be back for you."

She nodded against my shoulder, but spoke no more words, yet I could still hear her muffled sobbing.

Poppy was fifteen when I left.

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