Okay thanks so much for reading my story!!!!=DDDD Love u all!!!!! heres the next chappy!
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Kurts P.O.V
As i let the door slam behind me i went straight to my fathers study. My father is a bitter old man who's heart died along with mother. Now he's empty inside and has dedicated his life to Hitler and the Nazis,for some meaning in his life i suppose. He looked up from ruffling through his papers with his glasses lopsided. HIs once ashy blonde hair was greying and thinning. His once happy and young expression was now scribed with lines and now held a sunken,tired expression.
"What is it,son?" he asked in German
Thats another thing about my father,he insisted i learn at least 3 other languages than German,English,French and Italian. We were in alliance with Italy he said so it was just a mark of respect i learnt their language. I speak all my languages fluently and have been taught them since a young age,along with all my other school subjects. I prefer to speak English and because i speak it so often my natural German accent wasn't as a strong s it used to be,only a slight hint about it. But it was a common law in our household that we only spoke German, "A truly great language of the gods" my father would say when he was celebrating and considerably drunk.
"Father,i would like to speak to you about our current housekeeper,he's getting a bit old and weary,i say we put him back with the other filth in the concentration camps" I said
"Then who do suggest that we get to do the housework?"
"How about a nice pair of female hands to do the job,a woman's touch? You know how no one can really clean a house like a woman." I said
I saw him stiffen,talking of this sort of thing upsets memories of mother.
"You know how i feel about woman houseworkers,and no we are not firing our current houseworker for silly little games with a piece of filth to keep yourself entertained"
"Father i am sick of going i and out of the place with seeing nothing but hopeless cleaning and shitty cooking,I bet that thing is poisoning us! And do you want us dead!" I yelled
"Do not talk to me with such insolence and we will not get a meal houseworker for you to toy with! Now you may go and get on with your French lesson!"
His face was bright red,i guess i over done it losing my temper like that but he gets me so angry when he wont move on,it frustrates me that ever since mother died he hadn't done anything, just a lifeless shadow of what he once was. Instead going to french i went up stairs and changed out my uniform and grabbed my bag,then i went to the library and took a few books,quickly grabbed bread and cheese if i get hungary then went outside,grabbed my bike and headed off to my lake.
Anya's P.O.V
I keep thinking of how kind he treated me,well in his weird way. It keeps me up at night thinking about it ,if i did even get to sleep it probably would. I have tried to interact with the others but they all seem to want to ignore me,except this one girl called Anne,Anne Frank. She's really nice and is here with her sister,she tells me her parents are dead and her sister is really sick. She's good company and is always writing in her diary. i had i a peek once and noticed she was always writing to the same person,Kitty. When i asked about Kitty and about who she was,Anne laughed and said Kitty was imaginary. I was confused of why she didn't put dear dear but she said that was to boring. She's good company and kept me from being suicidal well at least during the day but the nights were the hardest,when i wasn't thinking about the soldier (i didn't ask his name) i was replaying the last happy moments of when i was with mama and papa and Tilly. Then my mind would change to scenes of papa being taking away,kicking and screaming. Finally it would stop at my mother lying on the ground sobbing,begging them to take her instead of me and Tilly,begging for our lives. My mind would replay these images over and over until i fell into a horrific dream filled sleep. I haven't seen the soldier since he made me eat and that was about 2 days ago,i know i sound obsessed but a really ice part of me misses seeing his face,hearing his voice. The days are long and empty,the same work and the same pain. I wish was here to make me feel better. In all senses it was sick to think of him like that but he was intoxicating and i loathed him for it. We're so different in so many aspects of our lives yet all i want to do is be close to him. My life is spinning out of control ever so slowly when i'm around him and i don't know if that makes sense but it does to me,it feels like he will be my rock one minute but then droop me in a second the next. I have to try and keep away from him somehow,i don't know how but i need to find a way.
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I would like to dedicate this part of the story to Anne Frank,who inspired people all over the world with her words and wisdom. May you rest in peace.
Thanks for reading,comment and vote! =DD
