War-Torn

The birds were chirping, as the sun filled the morning sky. The bombs of the enemy had darkened the air, which blackened the sky. As soon as light from the window shone through my eyes, I forced my legs to stand. They felt heavy and weak, especially because of the blisters from the dirt floor. My eyes felt too heavy, but we had to wake up early because Nazi soldiers might come in or air radians might go off. I crawled over to the small window, peering over that was once blooming green grass, to yellow pale shrubs. Nazi soldiers hadn't raided the hideout yet, but we still had to be cautious. Mutti and Pappa woke up from the dirt floor and headed for the door. As usual, they were heading out to scavenge for food in the garbage bins. Food was harsh, as the Nazis refused to provide food for Jews, like me.

When Mutti and Pappa had returned with half a banana and a mouldy apple, Gaston woke up. Gaston didn't normally wake up this late, and he seemed unwell. I hoisted my body up from the dirt floor and carried my heavy bones to Gaston's bed, and felt his forehead. He was sweaty and warm, too warm. Gaston suddenly coughed out blood and fell back onto the floor. Mutti ran over, while Pappa collected the last few drops of aspirin. Gaston’s eyes had rolled back. Pappa ran over with wet cloths and aspirin to dry the blood off. He tried giving Gaston some water but there was no use. His heart had slowed down and his breathing had stopped. Gaston had died.

Mutti screamed louder than ever last night. Her eyes were bulging red and she couldn't sleep. Pappa had dug a hole near the broken apartment for Gaston. The hole was deep enough so that the bombs couldn’t disturb his soul. We put some of Gaston's possessions like the small teddy Mutti sewed for him as a Christmas present and a children's bible as a protection for his body. After Gaston's funeral, we all sat quietly in the hideout thinking about Gaston and the war. Gaston never deserved to die. It was all because of the war that he died. I glared at the small window as a trickle of salty water wept down my face. Will this war ever end?



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