February 14, 1943

Ninja [NEEN-yuh] is cornered by three Nazis, one of which is passionate and merciful enough to spare her life and later have a strong bond with her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 14, 1943

 

 

I was drowning in my own sweat, my heart pounding a mile a minute as the blood dripped down from my shoulder and onto the cold, muddy ground. My breaths grew short and weak, and my legs soon felt like jelly beneath my body. The image of the stranger with the gun started to grow foggy as the sweat dripped into my eyes, and I cried the drops out in hope that he wouldn’t shoot again. I wasn’t dead yet, but even though I knew that the pain was getting the best of me, I knew I couldn’t do anything but try to keep myself awake for the rest of the night. Just stay up a bit longer, and perhaps someone will come along to save me. Another Jew, perhaps, would be wandering by from their hasty escape from being a captive. I was a captive not five minutes ago, and of course I convinced myself that escaping with a group of twelve other Jews would get me somewhere other than wherever they took my family. After my mother, father, and brother were gone, I knew that I’d never see them again. I was fortunate enough to have been working in the bakery when the Nazis took my family from the home. I heard that they were searching for me, but they ended up giving in for the day.    

For the day, I repeat. Obviously I have been captured the day after I found that I was going to be living alone from then on. I’d hide for the rest of my life, doing nothing other than hoping for someone to pull me from the depths of the cellar of my own house. The Nazis found me cowering in the corner, and without hesitation they took me with them to the truck, where I found myself crammed into about twenty other Jews that smelled terribly. But after about four hours of nonstop driving, leaving me a dirty, stinky, mess in my white underdress, the truck had pulled over near a forest. This was when I overheard a few Nazis speak of a few runaways that had escaped about the grounds of the forest. This was enough to make me lose my mind, along with twelve other captives in the truck with me. That night we escaped. I was the youngest of the group as a fifteen-year-old. The others were in their mid-twenties I could imagine.

                After about five minutes, I found myself separated from them. I looked about myself then, my mind whirring with worry as I could hear gun shots and booming voices over the white, snow covered hill that I was near. I looked up to the snow that fell from the sky, leaving me to only shiver and wrap my arms around myself. Goosebumps formed on my arms as the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. My long, dark hair that reached the middle of my back was turning damp from the snowflakes that melted as soon as they hit it. I was beyond terrified when I heard the voices from the hill all over again.

                “Arms up! Fire!” one of the older voices shouted when the sounds of heavy footsteps started to stomp their way in my direction. Luckily, I couldn’t see anything over the hill. The sounds of the footsteps stopped abruptly, followed by a loud thud and shriek of pain. This struck me in the heart, leaving me to do nothing but run in the other direction, my bare feet thudding against the ground as the sound was loud enough to compare it to a stampede. My location was obvious, and my intention of running away was strong. But my mind wasn’t in the right place when I heard a voice"younger than the others.

                “I’ve got one over here!” the chuckle echoed throughout the forest as I could hear the loading of a gun. Along with that, heavy booted stomps made their way up the hill as well. More sounds of guns loading made my spine tingle with fear. I knew that they were going to shoot me down with no mercy. I’d be dead if I’d keep running away. But what if I wouldn’t? Perhaps they’d spare me if I’d turn around and surrender. Besides, I was just a child. Maybe they’d take me in as a slave or whatever they did to their captives. But knowing that I was running away, and that I would be a hard one to trust, they’d kill me on the spot. I would be useless. Then again, why couldn’t I try? What would it hurt?

                I slowed my pace when I heard the first gun shot, and gritted my teeth as I spun around quickly to face my threat. They were standing their ground on the top of the hill, which wasn’t too far from me"perhaps ten meters. But it didn’t matter, as bullets can travel faster and farther than I can run. My balance was completely off, and it was just enough for something swift to knock me over dead. Even the eyes of the gunmen were enough to set me into a trance of fear. They were mixed ages"some in their early thirties, and some perhaps a year or two older than me. The spark of the guns lit up the night, and I could see the snow flying up as they hit the ground before me.

                I whimpered a little as I backed up with my hands at my side, my whole body vibrating with fear. They didn’t stop shooting yet, and it was a wonder why I didn’t continue running. How were they missing me? Perhaps the ones who weren’t well trained yet were shooting at me. Besides, they looked at the Jews to be nothing but a target or some sort of play thing. They could have been messing with my mind and I wouldn’t have even known it. Almost five seconds passed then until I could hear one of them shout, “It’s a child! Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

                He removed his helmet and threw it to the ground when no one would stop shooting. He yelled again, “Hold your fire!” I saw him walk toward the two older men so he could push one over weakly. The man might have fallen back as he dropped his gun, but that didn’t stop him from looking up and glaring into my dark, dying eyes.

                The last elderly Nazi that wouldn’t stop shooting knocked the younger one out of his way with his elbow, only so he could get a better aim on me. “Get out of the way!” he shouted as the young boy hit the ground.        

                I gulped, unable to move as I knew that my only hope of living was on his back. I eyed him for a moment, but his image became blurry as the tears started to well up in my eyes. He was frozen as well as I was. The two of us locked eyes for a moment, and the only thing I got a glimpse of was how blue his eyes were, just like everyone else’s.

                For a moment, I thought everything was going to be okay. The Nazi shooting at me couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. I even sighed a little when I figured that he was probably blind, just like every other elderly man of his age. Then again, he seemed rather strong when he knocked over the younger Nazi, who I was sure was just another one of those youths in training. After all, what boy of his age would want to kill another child?

                After about three seconds, things changed rapidly as the other older Nazi rolled over onto his stomach to grip his gun firmly, and aim at me with one eye squinted. For a split second, everything seemed to freeze, which left me unable to run or scream… not even let my tears fall just yet. There was a loud click, and I could’ve sworn that that was when my heart stopped completely.

                That was when I started drowning"fading into a sudden blackness that engulfed my vision and poisoned my soul harshly with hate and ridicule. My eyes blinked once… twice… a final time when I found myself on the ground, staring up at the falling snow as I heard a loud shout, “No!”

 

 

*              *              *              *

 

There was a flash of red"the bright kind, not the oozing blood shade of red that was seeping from my broad shoulder and into the titanium white snow. The blackness that had my eyes whirring and rolling back into my head started to flash red and white, like I was watching some sort of light show that teased me with that certain white light at the end of this long, black tunnel. I could barely feel my body. It was like I was slipping away from my own skin, simply like removing a glove from a hand.

                But someone brought me back, and not long afterward I knew I wasn’t dead. I could tell by the agonizing pain in my shoulder that I was alive, and of course I had suffered a shot wound. For some reason, I felt as if I was in the hands of an angel"safe and secure as I was lifted into the beautiful clouds of heaven. Nevertheless, I didn’t know that at the moment, I was far from heaven. In fact, I was in the exact opposite.

                Another form of proof to me that I was alive was the fact that I could hear voices. Of course they weren’t angelic. In fact, they were rather rough and angry. Last time I heard, angels weren’t angry and potty-mouthed. Also, I’m sure the grounds of heaven weren’t rough and bumpy, kind of like being thrown into the back of that truck that I was crammed into earlier. Instead this one was roomier, and the tones of the women voices were a bit brighter than the ones in the other truck.

                “We’re going to have to be a bit quieter, if you please. I wouldn’t like those jerks to come back here and kill us for talking so loudly,” a mature woman’s voice sighed quietly as I heard a hand clasp over someone’s mouth. This woke me up a bit more, and it was just enough for me to realize that I was, in fact, lying in the middle of the back of a truck.

                Just then, I could hear a younger voice scold rather sharply, “Don’t say that, Fritzi!”

                In response, I opened one eye. Sleeping on this ground was the last thing I’d ever do. Besides, why would I rather sit down there rather than sit on the bench next to another Jew"a female Jew? Perhaps I could find out where I was to be taken, and what had happened to me back in the forest. How could I be spared? How could those Nazis decide to simply hold their fire after one shot? It was a mystery"a strange mystery seemed to be left to be unsolved.

                I let out a quiet groan as my arms twitched lightly. This was before I found my inner strength that let me somehow push myself into a sitting position, still facing the front of the truck so I couldn’t see the other females. I could hear a gasp from a younger girl, but after that everything was silent. All that could be heard was the sound of the wheels of the truck scratching against the snow and gravel beneath the vehicle.

                “Quite a strong one, I presume,” the eldest one spoke once more, but this time her tone held less force. “I’m sure that the bullet didn’t go in too deep. Come, let me check that.”

                I knew she was talking to me. I raised an eyebrow, and casted a small glare over my shoulder in the blonde girl’s direction. She seemed about eighteen-years-old. This was just enough for her to never gain my respect, as most elderly people didn’t let care or concern come to their mind when matters came to the safety of children. Compared to this girl, I was a child. She would never care about me. But feeling some stray blood ooze down my arm, I figured that I’d rather have someone look at my arm than be stubborn and tough it out.

                A small smirk formed on my face when my dark eyes stared intently into hers. I muttered quietly, “You haven’t got the supplies to fix this wound.” I let my left arm reach across my body to hold the rather deep gash that had kept me asleep for about three hours. I couldn’t feel for the bullet, as the wound began to sting even worse than before. I didn’t show the pain in my expression, but I was sure that I was on the brink of busting into tears.

                Fritzi, as I was sure that the name had belonged to the blonde girl, rolled her blues eyes and patted the empty spot next to her on the bench. “I’ll at least try to stop the bleeding.” Her eyes flickered to the two younger girls on the bench across from her. “Gretchen, hand me that blanket,” Fritzi sighed as she held out her left hand to me, and opened her right hand for the blue, woolen blanket that Gretchen used to keep herself and the young toddler beside herself warm.

                Gretchen was about two years younger than me. She seemed like your normal thirteen-year-old, only more nervous and shaky as she tried to keep the cold from getting to herself and the toddler beside her. Gretchen’s hair was brown, and her eyes were blue. She was quite a beautiful young lady. But when she heard Fritzi’s sudden command, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, and shook her head nervously. “No, Tanja and I will freeze to death without it! Use your own!”

                Tanja had no idea what was going on. She just leaned her head on Gretchen’s side, and closed her eyes contently.

                I pursed my lips, and looked innocently up to Fritzi. “I highly doubt repeating myself is necessary,” I said through my chattering teeth. The truth was, I was too tired to repeat myself. In fact, I don’t think I remembered half of what I was saying. It was like I was lying on these puffy clouds that kept trying to pull me away from this strange reality. The snow that fell through the back of the truck curtains was biting at my skin, and I could have sworn that the frost bite on my wrists was going to be the death of me.

                Fritzi looked down at the red blanket that she used to cover herself up, and she let her right hand drop to her lap so she could look at me with an annoyed expression. “Well come get warm then, if you don’t want to heal. I don’t want you to die out here in this rutty, old thing,” she mumbled as her breath appeared as white mist before her. Her eyes were cold and sharp as they stared into mine impatiently when I made no response. For some reason, I didn’t want to get along with her. I just didn’t like her, but deep down I felt guilty for pushing her away already.

                Giving in, I used my hands to push myself to my feet so I could stumble onto the bench next to her. I slumped down and gritted my teeth in agony as soon as the wound started to burn more. “How long have I been here?” I hissed through my teeth as I was stupid enough to lay my head down on Fritzi’s shoulder. My teeth started to chatter more as I closed my eyes.

                Gretchen watched me closely. I could feel her eyes on me as Fritzi wrapped the blanket around me, and embraced me as the two of them both tried to disregard the amount of blood that stained my nightgown. “You’ve been here for about four hours. The Nazis thought about leaving your body in the forest,” the brunette sighed as she wrapped an arm around Tanja.

                I hummed in response as I could feel myself fading away into another pitiful sleep. But I forced myself to stay awake to hear the rest of the story.

                Fritzi embraced me more firmly, kind of like she was feeling my pain as she whispered, “But one of them demanded that you’d be taken in as a slave. That is, if you’d survive.”

                “And I did,” I finished for her, only so I could feel that blanket of darkness dawn upon me once more, sending my off into my nightmares.

 

 

 

THREE DAYS LATER

 

“Attention!” the headmaster said as he pushed back in his chair so he’d stand before all of the future soldiers.

                This was already a normal routine for me"to run off to the kitchen to grab the food for the boys. Although my wound wasn’t completely healed, it did stop bleeding. This was enough to keep everyone from becoming disgusted with me. Then again, I was a Jew. Of course people were disgusted with me. Even some of the boys thought it’d be funny to trip me when I’d carry the water over to their table. Eventually I’d be beaten sometime that day for spilling all that water, but once again, this was just a normal routine of mine.

                As the headmaster lectured the kids about… whatever, (I really didn’t pay much attention to that part), I grabbed the nearest pitcher of water, and lined up with the other servant girls. I stood against the wall next to Gretchen, who also worked during the dining hours. I elbowed her timidly before turning my attention back to the boys who’d eventually need water.

                I wore a blue dress with a white apron, just like every other girl who worked for that school. Let me take the tie to emphasize the word, school. Of course, only I’d have the luck in working with some girls who weren’t even Jews. Sure, they were treated better than Fritzi, Gretchen and me, but that didn’t really mean much to me. I was always used to being abandoned, anyway.

                My long, dark hair was yanked back into a braid that I eventually untangled at the end of the day. I hated whenever someone would do my hair like that, only because the sensation of someone tugging on it irritated me. In this case, Fritzi did my hair. She mopped the halls, and barely did I ever see her. But we stayed in the same room on the bottom floor, where most of the rats slept. Sure enough she had time to come to my bed and braid my hair. Apparently the students don’t want hair in their food. They deserve it, in my opinion.

                “Sit!” the headmaster finally bellowed before he took his seat as well. That was our cue. It was kind of like a performance to me, or at least it felt that way.

                “Go,” I whispered ever so quietly to Gretchen, who was holding about five plates of food on this tray that she was forced to carry about the large dining room. The many times she was tripped only broke my heart, for watching her lay on the broken tray glass and seeing the pain in her eyes brought pain to my heart. I tried to stay as close to her as possible when we left our line to start serving the food.

                I started going down the line of the nearest table, immediately pouring the water into the students’ glasses instinctively. I kept a straight face, most of the time not even thinking as some very rude words and phrases were casted in my direction. This was a very good school for someone who wasn’t a Jew. But if you’d be in my position, your feelings would hurt for eternity. Sometimes I just wanted to say something back to those jerks, but if I’d do so, I’d get beaten for disrespect by the headmistress.

The headmistress wasn’t very kind. In fact, she was an old, slimy woman with gray hair and wrinkly, pale skin that hung loose off of her bones. She barely had any muscle or fat, which gave her a hideous appearance that sent chills up my spine. Now imagine her with a paddle. Terrifying, isn’t it? Those cold, blue eyes showed no hint of mercy as she’d crack the wood on the behinds of the servant girls, but for me it was the face. I was there for three days, and I had already gotten cracked across the face five times.

                I looked up at Gretchen quickly as I watched her place the plate down before a student on the other side of the room. Her expression was blank as well"kind of like she had lost something important. But the two of us were in the same situation, and I can easily say that we’d lost all of our dignity.

                I was at my final table"last column, first row, and third seat down from the last one. There sat a brunette boy with blue eyes. His expression was blank as well, and as soon as I got to the person in front of him, our eyes met for a brief moment. I think I almost let the water overflow onto the table after I was lost for just that long until I realized what I had almost done.

                I rounded the table so I could get to that strange boy’s side. I shook my head a little to snap out of that idiotic trance that I was almost set in. “Watch what you’re doing next time, rat!” the blonde-haired boy"who’s water I had almost spilled"scolded me through his gritted teeth.

                I widened my eyes quickly before nodding my head, and then bowing it to look down at the glass I was then pouring into. I was almost out of water, but I had refilled about ten times during that current dining time. The pitcher should have held up until I would get to the last person. By then, I was behind the strange boy who I had made eye contact with. Bashfully, trying to keep my face from turning red, I poured the water into his glass. After it was about an inch away from the brim, I sighed in relief and pulled away happily.

                But then, something snapped within me. It was like there was a total chance in the atmosphere"a change of direction in the wind outside of the large windows as the sun finally had come out. Well there was no sun, but the rain fell even harder! What I’m trying to say is, something at that very moment probably changed my life, even if it was just a simple, “Thank you,” from that strange boy.

                In fact, his fellow students that surrounded him looked at him funny as well. I was even expressing a dumbfounded look on my face as I was frozen in the same spot behind him for about thirty seconds of nothing but silence from his friends. But the boy, of course, just acted natural as he sipped his water before resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He faced forward, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to turn around to look at me again.

                Just then, I felt some strange relation with the three students that seemed rather close to the strange boy, as we were all wondering the same thing: “Why did he thank me"a Jew?” Although it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal now, it was a huge deal then. But what to say back to him seemed like nothing but a mystery. Because of that, I thought I’d wing it.

                “You’re welcome,” I whispered before walking off, leaving myself in shock for talking back to someone who seemed to be at such a higher level than me.

                Had I known that the boy was the one who had saved my life, I would have dropped everything to embrace him. But sure enough, the night of my near-death-experience started to bloom in my memory once again as I laid my head down on my pillow that night. I knew then that I should have been the one to be thanking him! That was when I snapped. I needed to know his name. I needed to become close to him for the sake of finding some sort of change in my life.

                I walked away with the empty pitcher in my hand. As I tried to let my mind wonder of who the boy might have been, I casted a quick glance over my shoulder. It was then when I found him staring at me with those cold eyes, not removing them from my curious expression. As I turned back to face the direction in which I was walking, I noticed that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I tripped over one of the student’s foot, which stuck out like a sore thumb as he intentionally tried to trip me.

                I didn’t have time to react, as glass was already flying everywhere. I slipped forward and caught myself with the palms of my hands. But safety or no safety, I had made a mess, and everyone was staring at me like I was some kind of idiot. I sighed in relief that perhaps the headmistress wasn’t in the dining room currently, but when I heard these black heels click up to come to a halt before me, I gulped and looked up into the cold, merciless eyes of the bony, ghostly woman.             

                I bit my lip embarrassedly before whimpering, “H-hi, Mistress.”

               

               

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems
More chapters are to come
Sorry for my lack of knowledge in history. It's my worst class.

Reviews

[VennelaMargame]

This is a lovely story, and I'm quite disappointed that you haven't got any reviews on it yet at all. I suppose some people are put off by the length of it, but that's their problem, not yours.

The control of voice is quite nice here. It sounds alternately very adult and very colloquial, as a young person might speak when forced into a severely traumatic situation that would require her to grow up very quickly. That portends well for the rest of the story, because you've already built the framework of your character such that I (the reader) care about her as an individual.

In short, then, good work and happy writing.