Requiem

Chapter Three- The Escape (Edited)

After establishing themselves in their new routine, Irena learned that the walk home would take her ten minutes starting in the early hours in the morning when the sun had not yet risen, and late at night when it had gone to bed. Every night she made her way through the silent back streets of the ghetto, as she quite quickly learnt to avoid the main street where most of the brutality and confrontations occurred. 

That night, that night was different though. The winter air felt crisp and clear, and the sky was sprinkled with a thousand stars, 'How could such beauty still exist in a place like this?' Irena wondered. As the heels of her shoes clicked against the pavement in a comforting rhythm, Irena found herself enraptured by the stars and felt her mind wandering to the adventures that could be had if only one would escape to the sky. It was at that moment when she looked down for the first time when she found a small hole in the ghetto wall covered in overgrown weeds and litter. As she approached the wall she realised that if she crouched just enough, her small petite frame would be able to fit. Hope, that's what ran through Irena's mind and it was then she decided that after curfew had ended that night she would sneak out and see what food she could salvage. It's strange isn't it that in that exact moment when an opportunity for freedom presented itself to Irena that her first thought was her tiring Mamo and food... not escape, just food. That my dear reader, was just the sort of person Irena was. 

She had not told Mamo about the hole in the wall and her plan to sneak out, as she feared her dear Mamo would die at the anticipation of her not coming back, after all, it was a dangerous world out there for a Jew. And so, she waited deep into the night for her Mother to fall asleep and against the backdrop of her mothers light breathing she made her descent out of the building like a thief in the night. As the safety of the ghetto walls faded behind her, a sudden eruption of joyous cheers started Irena momentarily but naturally, her curious nature quickly overtook any fear and she decided to investigate what had aroused such happy feeling for the people of Krakow. Following the sound, Irena found an abandoned building with the glass windows shattered and door barely hanging on hinges, and so she entered the structure and crouched in a blackened corner in an advantageous position where the smell of burning and the warmth of fire filled the air around her. 

As she peered out the window frame, she was met with the sight of hundreds of people gathered around a gigantic fire laughing, singing and shouting. 'What a strange gathering' Irena thought to herself, she knew she had been naive to the goings on in the city for some months, but it had not been so long that strange foreign new trends such as bonfire parties had occurred, surely not.  "Nein zu dekadenz und moralischen korruption!"- No to decadence and moral corruption! A young Nazi officer cried, and the crowd echoed whilst cheering 'Heil Hitler' and saluting the fire.  Irena's head snapped to the side where she saw a young child spitting on what looked like a book, before carelessly tossing it into the inferno of hatred. The crowd cheered even more as the flames grew higher and higher, their hatred and anger alone seemed enough to fule it, so why were they tossing books? 

Irena sat transfixed by the scene until the fire slowly dwindled out, a single tear ran down her cheek which she bitterly brushed away 'No, I will not waste my tears on those Nazi szumoeiny' and with those words, she pulled herself up off the floor and went outside to assess the scene for herself. I'm not sure what made her do it, bravery, stupidity, anger? but that decision, although she would not know it straight away, would change the course of her life forever. She knelt down against the cool cobbles of the street and scooped up a charcoaled book that read 'Die Zietmaschine by H.G. Wells'. Irena gently stroked the pages of the book, it was her fathers favourite when he was alive and he would often sit by the fire after work enraptured by it. Happy memories overtook Irena and just for once the reality of her life seemed to drift away....

'YOU'. Inge froze, her face calm, unlike her beating heart. 'HEY YOU THERE' the voice demanded again, Irena remained glued to the spot, fear had paralysed her as her mind reeled, not yet, please not yet, my Mamo, oh my Mamo. A strong hand touched her shoulder jolting her out of her panic, and he turned her to face him for the first time. He had beautifully soft features, and the kindness of his face did not match the harshness of his tone or his uniform. He stopped momentarily transfixed by the woman before him until he remembered why he had stopped her and held out his hand in a gesture for her to pass over the book in her hand. "Die Zeitmaschine?" he laughed "A novel for children, I thought Jews sat at home reading the Torah or something?" Irena's head shot up, her stern look shocked the man and anger overtook her 'We are not all synagogue-going, Torah reading Yids like YOU all seem to make out we are' she warned. After those words escaped her she realised she had been stupid and cowered back as she awaited his retaliation, he pulled her close to him by the collar of her coat and whispered 'Run Jew, and run now. SCHNELL'. She was confused, run? run from who, wasn't he going to punish her like she had seen all the other officers do? It wasn't until the military clicking of heeled boots against the street that she had realised more Nazis were coming, and with that, she ran back into the night and headed towards the ghetto the way she had snuck out. 

 The Nazi officer watched as the small figure of the woman faded into the darkness of the night and he let out a sigh. "WERNER...HEY WERNEY!" one of the other officers cooed at the man, clearly drunk. Again. "Was that one of your night women again Werner?" they mocked, but Werner ignored him lighting a cigarette. He was transfixed to the spot, as he remembered the beautiful green of her eyes that danced with fear and bravery when he had first discovered her. Such beauty did not belong in a place like this, he thought to himself. 

And that my dear reader, was the first time Werner met Inge. Was it fate you ask? One cannot know such things, but what I can tell you was that it was an encounter that was to change the course of both their stories. Even mine.