Lucky Ones

Running, running, running. People fly past me in a blur. My black curls cascading out behind me. There's almost an excitement that entices you to feel as though you are a child running from the monsters in your nightmares. Although for me now, those monsters are very real. The only difference is that it's in the shape of a Dictator. I can see the blurred outlines of Swatikas on the uniforms of Aryan children. However, I am not considered an Aryan, despite what it may say on my papers. Does loving an Aryan count for anything? And he loves me? I can't focus on what is soon to be behind me.

I can feel his hand in mine. The further towards the train I get, the denser the crowds become. My hand slips away from his. I keep running. His physique slowly fades from view. The room is spinning. I keep running. A hand from the train grabs my arm; it's him! The train begins to move. Running alongside it, trying to find the courage to jump, I grab his hand, kiss it, and tell him I love him. The train travels out of sight; my head begins to wander. Panic. What do I do? My life will not be mine. It will belong in the hands of the Fuhrer. I feel at my cheeks, there is water trickling down them. The idea of being without him... no! I cannot think of that.

I will be lost to the world like her. She disappeared. Just vanished. No one knew then that I wasn't Aryan. I was a typist at the Polezeistation which meant I had access to confidential files. When the Gestapo became more well known, they set up stations across Germany. My skills meant they required my services. Whilst I was there, the horrors I witnessed were second to none. Screams, so many screams. There were rooms I wasn't allowed to enter. One night I was left with the key to lock up. There was one room which no one without special clearance was allowed to enter. I looked upon this great oak door. I was curious and cautious to know what was behind it. I stood there my heart pounding, I pulled the door slightly. Black. That's all there was—dark, empty, blackness. Squeezing through the tiny gap in the door, I slid inside. I looked around for a light switch. That's when I realised there was an aroma. Something like meat that had gone off? My hands were lightly stroking the large stone walls, desperately trying to find a light switch. Click. Light. Actually it was more of a half light. The room was lit by a singular light bulb, hanging from a very high wooden beam. The lack of light made it hard to see the dimensions of the room, I slowly walked around the room, grazing my hand against the wall. Then I felt something smooth and cold that made me shudder. I crouched down and realised that there was a piece of metal stuck in the wall and the stone around it looked discoloured. I stood up and walked backwards away from the wall in order to get a better view. I couldn't get further than maybe about ten inches as I stumbled over a chair. What was this place? I looked at the wall, then at the chair, and decided to walk again. After about 30 minutes of wandering around I came across a large filing cabinet. I still wasn't sure of what the room was and why I felt so melancholy. I inched the draws open one by one, names! Lots and lots of names. Then... her! Stasse! I picked up the file. It was marked confidential. I went to open it and...

"Frauline... Frauline." A German officer. "Papers, I need to see your papers." I reach into my bag and pull out the forged papers. This is it. I'm going to be caught. "Danke, you shouldn't be on here, frauline. It's no place for a young Aryan like you." I looked at him. Tears were still streaming down my face. I thanked him and walked away.