Through Blood

Chapter 3: Past

Yvonne - July, 1936:

"I can't do it... I can't do it anymore," the young girl next to Ivy whispered to her. She looked no older than 12, her uniform was from Jungmädel.

"Shhh... be quiet," Ivy replied.

They were in a massive yet silent crowd of Hitler Youth children from all sectors of the organization. They had all rallied in Berlin and were waiting for a special appearance by the Führer after many group activities and singing.

"But my shoulder hurts so much, I can't hold my arm up for much longer," the girl bit her lip and held back tears.

"Well you must continue to hold it up until the Führer gets here and until he leaves, it might be another hour or so," Ivy said. She looked at the girl and felt bad for her. She really looked like she was in pain. Ivy, too, felt pain in her right shoulder, but she was older, stronger, and could withstand it.

"Put your left hand underneath, that's it, hold your arm up with your left hand. It helps," Ivy said to her. That was one of the older Hitler Youth children's tricks. They had been doing this for long enough to find ways to hold their right arm up straight for hours.

"It really does help, thank you," the girl whispered happily.

"Now shhh..." Ivy smiled.

 Kristian - April, 1935:

Will it ever stop raining? Kristian thought. He was driving home from work in one of the biggest downpours Spring could ever offer. As he drove down Reinhardtstraße he noticed a single person standing by the bus stop. It was a woman with no umbrella, she stood there shivering and soaked in the heavy rain. He drove by her and then couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop thinking about going back and offering her a car ride.

He circled around the street and went back to where she was. He stopped in front of the bus stop and rolled down the passenger window.

"Fraulein, can I offer you a ride home?" Kristian asked her.

"No, thanks. I'm waiting for the bus," she replied.

"Right. Uh... look I'm not a pervert or anything like that. I'm a Schutzstaffel officer," he said.

That seemed to convince her. She hesitated but opened the car door and went in.

"Thanks, Herr. I really don't know when that bus will come and I forgot to bring an umbrella with me today, so silly of me!" she smiled. She had a beautiful smile.

"And the rain isn't slowing down at all," Kristian started driving again. "Where can I take you?"

"My house is not too far from here, on Chausseestraße," she replied.

"What's your name? I'm Kristian Köhler."

"My name is Sara Mayer. It's a pleasure to meet you, Herr Köhler."

"Please, call me Kristian. Herr Köhler is my father, sounds so old," he laughed and she did too.

When he stopped the car in front of her house she thanked him and apologized for getting water all over the front seat.

"Don't worry about it. Here..." he took a second to pull out a little piece of paper from his pocket and with a pen from his glove box, he wrote his phone number and address on it. "Now you know my address too. If you ever need a ride again, doesn't have to be raining, just let me know," he smiled.

She took the note and with a "Thank you," stepped out of the car and back into the rain.

Simone - October, 1915: