Whatever Happened?

The year 1940, The middle of the second world war. They are in hiding, their bodies frozen in fear all the time, they fear capture, they fear Hitler, they fear death. But they can't do anything. They are Jewish in the reign of Adolf Hitler.

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2. The wizened coat...

I woke up this morning, Trembling. My Father's old coat was still bound tightly around me and my feet where still firmly implanted in my cold, fabric boots. The only shoes I owned. Slowly, steadily, I drew the frayed jumper of my legs and got up. My sister had come in overnight, Wanting Father, but she forgot.

She forgot that he was gone.

She forgot she was never coming back.

"F-Father" She stammered quietly, waking from my movement.

"You know what happened to Father, Elysia... he's not here anymore" I said, slowly to match her waking movements

"Oh, I forgot. Sorry Peter" She whispered my name lovingly. I was the one she looked up to now Father was... gone. Mother came in with a creak of the floorboards, making us all fall silent. People where working above and below us.

No noise to be made by us if we wanted to live.

Our flat, It's supposed to be storage. Supposed to be. But the only thing It was storing was our raw fear... Fear of shame...Fear of discovery...Fear of pain...Fear of Hate...Fear of Hitler...Fear of Blood spilt...Fear of death.

I look at Elysia, Her long mousy brown hair was knotted like rats tails, For we didn't have a brush suitable for her hair any more. Her small petite figure makes her look as if she's seven, not twelve. And her eyes. Those bright blue eyes just like Mothers, But her's hadn't lost their sparkle yet.  She looked like Father with her hair and small figure. She was the closest thing to him I had left, apart from Father's old coat. A simple, worn leather overcoat. Originally black, but grey and wizened from wear, tears and pain. I can see the golden star of David stitched haphazardly in a hurry onto the lapel. I sigh and rub my well-bitten nails, still raw from me tearing off the skin. I don't know why I do it.

Maybe I do it so the pain makes everything reality, everything is so surreal.

I look at Elysia. She was too young, too innocent to have to see such blood, tears and agony around the globe. She could never live a normal life as long as Hitler was here. She was too honest and pure hearted to be so scarred for life. Her seeing Father dying would haunt her forever, even more than I would. She was the closest to him all her life.  All throughout  She was his obvious favourite. I was never jealous. Seeing them joke and be happy was beautiful, and a blessing and If he was here, life wouldn't be so dull. It was always just

silence...

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