February 21st, 1943

Ninja finally discovers the Nazi who had spared her life the night of her captivity.

 

 

February 21^st, 1943

 

 

Embarrassment�"nothing but pure, utter embarrassment ran throughout my veins for the past three days all because of what had happened to me in the dining room. For three whole days, my face has been burning red because any time I would look at those ridiculous students, they’d laugh at me. It was beyond humiliating, and to be honest, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for ignoring laughter. Even Mistress Agatha ended up beating me for three hours straight. It was a wonder how that woman’s arm never had gotten tired.

          I was taken off dining room duty, and I was moved to hall mopping and room cleaning. Of course, Fritzi and I ended up switching positions. She was then the one being tripped during dining hours, and I didn’t have to worry about falling in glass and getting infected wounds anymore. But of course, the shot wound on my shoulder was starting to become infected, and no one wanted to help me treat it. Whenever I’d get to bed, Fritzi would be obsessed with sleeping, unable to take the time to help me to the sink to clean my wound. I would be tired myself, however, and I couldn’t walk by time it would be around the dead hours. After all of that work, I could barely do anything.

          It was about eight in the evening, and I could already feel the painful numbness in my arms. Mopping and scrubbing the floors of the main hallway and the student’s room was nothing but true torture. Sure enough, the embarrassment had never ended, as I was usually tripped in the hall by the taller students who thought that it was fun to pick on the servants. But in the end, they’ll end up just like everyone else who goes to that school. They’re all the same�"Nazis�"coldhearted, mindless, and unmerciful. At least I know that I’ll escape this mess as a well-taught individual.

          But as of now, I am trapped, and there is no sign of possible escape to my freedom. I know for a fact that it won’t be showing up anytime soon.

 

 

“Precisely a week ago, young elites were sent off to the border to capture thirteen runaway Polish captives. None were reported found. Nevertheless, we had not come back empty handed. Axel Krause, our training coach, had reported to us on behalf of the Jewish captives not too far from where we were standing. In the end, eleven Jews were murdered, and four were brought in for slavery. ‘Well done, soldiers,’ says our headmaster.

“But as the author of this article, I’d like to say that we are fortunate enough to have such kind-hearted soldiers to allow me to bring in just one more captive as a slave. Originally we were instructed to bring in three, but I negotiated Krause. My thanks goes out to him, along with the young elites,” one of the students read from the paper article sternly as he leaned against his bunk bed.

          Two boys read over the boy’s shoulders in awe. Each pair of blue eyes was narrowed in anger mixed with sadness as they stared at the paper just a bit longer. Silence filled the room, and the only thing that could be heard through the thick silence was the sound of the light rain tapping against the window. The gloominess of the outdoors filled the room with a slight glow of depression, but the rich scent of the rain worked its way between the cracks in the window.

          Rudolph, the boy reading the article, had black hair, and soft blue eyes. He displayed a normal, fourteen-year-old frame as he craned his neck so he could eyeball the newspaper just a bit longer. Just like the other two boys, he wore his school uniform as they were instructed to do so. He parted his full, pink lips before adding quietly, “We only spared four souls.”

          A fair-haired boy with rather large ears bit his lip. With a shaky hand, he reached forward to squeeze Rudolph’s shoulder firmly. Benjamin was his name, and he appeared to have a husky frame, and even though he was sixteen, he was just a bit shorter than Rudolph. It wasn’t difficult to tell that he had lost a good amount of weight from all of the training he had done with the rest of the students. However, he was still a bit thicker than the other two. “We didn’t have a choice. Remember what Coach Krause says: ‘No mercy, show good aim, or death will come.’ And unless you want to die�"”

          “Not now, pig,” Christoph, a wise, fifteen-year-old student, hissed harshly at Benjamin, who just wasn’t quick enough to avoid the contact. In a swift motion, he slapped the back of the shorter boy’s head before turning his attention back to Rudolph. Christoph was always the strongest when it came to emotional moments in their dorm. He was the only reason why Rudolph hadn’t yet committed suicide. He had a normal teenage frame, and his intelligence was a bit higher than Rudolph’s.

          But in the end, no one’s smarts could match their fourth and final roommate’s, who wasn’t present at the moment. He was the one who wrote most of the school paper’s articles. Many loathed him for the facts that he put in there, but without the boy, the students would not be up to date with the new schedules and events. His name was always displayed at the bottom of the articles in that cursive fashion that I found attractive. If only I could read that fancy script�"if only I could read, period.

          I listened closely as I pretended to be stuck on a stain in the hall next to their door. I ran the mop furiously over the same spot whenever someone would pass me. At least that certain spot would be clean for my four favorite students. The only reason why I liked them was because they never made fun of me or tried to hurt me. They didn’t treat me any better than a regular Jew, but they never held any intention of harming me. I respected them for that.

          Benjamin pouted a little before looking down with a hurt expression. “I was just trying to make a point,” he breathed quietly as he scuffed his worn-out black shoes on the wooden floor. But the depressed boy was ignored by his two roommates as usual.

          Rudolph could feel his cheeks turn red, along with his ears as those droplets of shame and worry started to fill his eyes. His pale, shaky hands started to crumple the edges of the newspaper as he gritted his teeth, only parting them once to say, “Where is Dominik? I must speak to him.”        Christoph narrowed his eyes a bit as he examined Rudolph’s face. He knew that the younger boy was bound to break down. He sighed, “He is almost finished with the final article.” He squeezed Rudolph’s shoulder lightly before turning for the cracked door. “Just breathe for a moment. I’ll get him.”

          Just breathe, I thought in unison with Christoph’s words. The last thing I wanted to do was clean up Rudolph’s vomit all over again. I had to do such a task once when he had a nervous breakdown. It was when he found out that Christoph was visiting his hometown. Rudolph immediately came to the conclusion that he couldn’t live without the older boy’s words of wisdom, and had a panic attack before throwing up.

          The brown, wooden door opened quickly, and there stood Christoph�"the boy who I shared an age with. Secretly, I always found him quite attractive, but I knew that it would be against my nature to fall for someone with higher opportunities than mine. Not only that, but what Nazi student would fall for me? Many reasons can fall off of that, but let’s not get into them. I’ve got feelings.

          I quickly stepped out of Christoph’s way when he looked down at the spot that I had been mopping for the past ten minutes. There was a big puddle of dirty water blocking his way, and this was why he looked at me with a frustrated expression. In response, I bit my lip and shrugged. “Don’t worry; just go around it. I’ll clean it up in�"”

          “I’m sorry, but I have to find someone. No time for explaining,” Christoph said rather politely before stepping around the puddle. And with that, he started to walk off in an annoyed fashion, as if I had ruined his day. I’m sure I had done so, but it didn’t matter by then. He was gone. It was time for me to head to the next hall. Besides, I didn’t want to stick around to see Rudolph’s upchuck all over again.

          I wrung out my mop into the yellow bucket that I wheeled around with me every day. I tried up the dirty puddle with the ends of my raggedy clothing, thinking that perhaps everyone would overlook the mess I had made. By the sound of Rudolph’s panting, I could tell that it was about time for me to split. However, I just couldn’t move fast enough to have the coaches and headmasters disregard my presence. One even questioned what I was doing, but I just replied in my best attempted Polish, “Cleaning,” only to confuse them and avoid any possible conversation. I did that often, and most of the time the other Germans rolled their eyes and continued on their way.

          I shoved the mop into the bucket, and kicked it off so it wheeled to the end of the hall rather loudly. “You’re no help,” I whispered to it mindlessly as the screeching wheels could possibly wake the dead. I rolled my eyes and forced myself to my feet angrily, only to eye the bucket one more before peeking into my favorite students’ room.

          Rudolph was bawling by then. In a way, I kind of understand why. But then again, I think it’s kind of foolish for him to be in one of the most professional elite schools and cry about the death of a few Jews. Rudolph was definitely grating on my nerves every single day about how bad he felt about the death of a few of my colleagues. As a person, it kind of made me restore hope in humanity. But Nazi wise, I thought he was just being foolish. The boy was on his hands and knees in terror, his eyes wide with horror as he screamed, “I’m a murderer!”

          I pursed my lips and bowed my head, only so I could miserably continue down the dark hallway to where my bucket sat. After I eyed it, the mop tipped out of it and clanked against the wooden floor, leaving a few muddy drops of water to fall out as well. The mess wasn’t drastic, but it was just enough to have me be yanked down to the prison�"or as I would like to call the dungeon�"by my hair. I wasn’t going to take that chance. The sound of footsteps made me scramble to my knees in fright. I used the sleeve of my clothing to dry the wet spots on the floor.

          I could hear the conversation of the two students�"one of which I could identify as Christoph. I kept my gaze to the ground as the voices grew louder: “I’d watch my step if I were you. There’s a Jew with terrible cleaning skills in our hall,” Christoph said in a low, cautious tone.

          A sneer erupted from the other boy, who sounded more mature in his voice’s tone. “He’s probably tired,” he sighed with his voice holding an annoyed tone. Obviously he didn’t like to be interrupted while he was in the middle of writing. Then again, I couldn’t imagine what he was writing about being useful to the rest of the school. According to what I first heard him write, he only cared about making the school a better place rather than getting realistic things done.

          The footsteps stopped abruptly just when they were around the corner, and Christoph cleared his throat quietly before questioning, “He, sir? I think you’ve misunderstood�"”

          “Well surely,” the mature voice said in a whisper, “they wouldn’t have the females cleaning the halls. They’re on kitchen duty, after all.” And just by that little statement, I finally realized how naïve this boy was�"how unknowing he was to the reality of this war. This war isn’t even war at all. Hitler isn’t giving us the chance to fight back. I repeat once more: this isn’t war! Sure enough this boy couldn’t see that we Jews didn’t have the power to fight back. Am I not wrong?

          There was a pause�"a long and uneasy pause that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand erect. Suddenly, the torn pillow case that Fritzi found useful began to soak with my wound’s blood. The damp case that wrapped around my shoulder started to untie from the sudden weight, and I could only reach across my body with my left hand to apply pressure to the gash, which I was sure was infected. I gritted my teeth in worry as I looked down at the dirty water on the ground that I had yet to clean.

          Christoph was frozen, I could tell. But to break the awkward silence, he spoke quietly, “For once I have to correct you.” He reached over to grab the boy’s arm so they could round the corner finally. And by then, everything was awkward.

          I froze on the spot�"my right hand clutching the clothing’s sleeve so I could dry the ground and my left hand applying more pressure to the wound. I panted a little as I scrubbed the ground violently, trying to disregard the two pairs of dress shoes that stood before me. I pursed my lips and kept scrubbing, saying nothing in fear that the new person wouldn’t respect a speaking Jew.

          Christoph turned to the boy quickly and gasped, “I didn’t put her on this daily task, I promise! I know how you feel about�"”

          “Just shut up, Christoph,” the taller boy said quietly, barely displaying any sternness in his tone. Obviously he was terrified straight, even though what was lying right before him was a rather normal thing to a Nazi. But he was probably lied to. The propaganda isn’t something the young elites should rely on, in my opinion. But who cares about my opinion?

          “Dominik�"”

          “I said shut up!” the boy finally yelled, using that light rasp in his voice that seemed to be so familiar to me. The only thing I could see were his black dress shoes step toward me and come to a halt. “Why are you in this hall?” he suddenly asked me. “Why are you cleaning? This isn’t your job.” His blue uniform pants wrinkled slightly as he got down on his knees, and at the same time I bowed my head even more to avoid any eye contact.

          I ignored him, as everything was just standing still to me. It was as if he was growing impatient by the second, but at the same time he truly wasn’t. I think it was because I was keeping him waiting, and I felt bad for doing so. It was as if I was taking advantage of someone who was kind enough to actually take the time to kneel before me and stare down upon me in concern. This didn’t happen too often, and I think it was about time for me to say something.

          I shivered a little as the pressure on my right shoulder started to lighten up, letting a lot of blood seep through the grey, dirty material. It was probably obvious, because I could feel it dripping down my arm and landing on the floor. But knowing that I had to be strong and power through this, I looked up ever so slightly into the eyes of the speaking boy.

          His ice blue eyes were just enough to give me goosebumps. He had dark hair and pale skin that made a strange confusion of colors to me. There was this strange hint of innocence to his face that made me tilt my head to the side in wonder. And although he didn’t speak again, I already recognized him as the boy who thanked me when I served him water.

          My eyes widened in amazement as I disregarded the seeping blood on my arm. A knot formed in my throat as soon as my mouth had run dry in amazement. “This is my punishment,” I wanted to say, but the words couldn’t escape my mouth. I narrowed my eyes as the strange struggle was obvious to Christoph and Dominik.

          Dominik pulled his eyebrows together when he saw the uncomfortable trembling of my arm. He let a moment pass before he made sure that it was true�"my shoulder was bleeding terribly. His icy eyes widened in horror before he turned to Christoph and hissed, “Fetch some water and a few bandages. Tell the others to prepare some blankets for a wounded Jew.”

          I watched Dominik nervously as my hands started to shake. Of course, as soon as I began to feel the drowsiness from my loss of blood. My dark and dull eyes slowly flickered down to the large puddle of dark red ooze on the mahogany ground. The scent of fresh blood burned my nostrils as I turned to look up at Dominik, who was slipping his hands under my legs to cradle me effortlessly.

          “You’re a weightless one,” he chuckled before looking into the dimness of my distant gaze. He frowned and turned to the room in which he and his friends stayed. “Come on, love,” he said in a swift whisper, “we’ll get you help.”

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems.
Sorry for the wait; lots of Honors English homework.
More chapters are to come.