Jules

Prologue

Sam stayed put as the shouting of what had become his family pierced his ears. He covered them with his hands as if a small child would, biting his lip as to not make a single sound. If he was caught, it would be the end of him. Crashing and clanging filled the house as the soldiers raided his home. His hideaway behind the bedroom upstairs leaked only the faintest of light that dust from the demolition flittered through.

The teenage boy felt his heart beat out of his chest when suddenly three close shots rang out. It became deadly silent. The sound of leather boots walked around the bedroom. Sam could smell the leather of them mixed with the scent of fresh blood. He felt tears force their way onto his face as his slowly removed his hands from his head, wiping them away gently. He held his breath until all the boots faded away and the sound of the wooden front door closed beneath him.

In a surge of emotion, Sam couldn't hold back a sob as he curled up and laid his dark, curly haired head on his knees to cry. His sobs racked through him and shook on the floor until the golden light through the cracks was replaced by complete darkness. The dust settled.

Night crawled along. Nightmare after nightmare pounded through his dreams as those screams echoed in his head. The events replayed over and over, and each time he woke up in a cold sweat, chest heaving in big, shaky breaths. Finally, the warmth of the sun shined through the cracks and Sam mustered the courage to press on the false wall after his stomach rumbled and hunger pangs stabbed at him.

What Sam saw with his cool blue eyes made his already upset stomach heave. The bodies of the home's residents, a man, his wife, and their four year old son, sprawled on the floor with blood drained from their face and pooled around their heads.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and then ran down the stairs and out of the house before vomiting behind the bushes that lined the West side. Sam eventually wiped his mouth and settled amongst the thick branches. He tried to think what he should do next, it was too dangerous to be outside in the open. If a soldier caught him, he wouldn't last long.

He scanned around him. No one was around. The warning of the people whom he had lived with, Marie, Georges, and their son Michel, came to his mind:

"If ever something happens to us, Samuel, run. If they make it Paris, there will be nothing more tying you here, chéri."

Marie and Georges had been taking care of him for the past few months. They had welcomed Sam into their small home as a place of protection and safety. His parents before that had dropped him off there. One night his mother had told him, "Hurry. Pack only what is necessary. We're leaving. Now." The three of them traveled for two days by train and arrived at what would be his new home.

"I don't understand!" Sam cried. His parents refused to answer, only replying with a: "We know," or "Please, Samuel...trust us."

The three arrived in just south of Paris in a more rural area. There was a plain cottage on a farm where a small family came through the door to greet them.

"Georges, Marie. We need you to take him. You know what this means," his father had said. The two nodded solemnly without a word as his father and mother turned to him.

His mother, with tears in her soft brown eyes, said to him, "Stay with them...we know that this is difficult but please remember that we love you so dearly...and that this is for your protection. We would never do this if it could be avoided..."

His father had then placed a hand on his mother's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"When will I see you again? Will I see you again?" Sam said slowly, his own tears flowing over his freckled cheeks.

His father took out his handkerchief and wiped his son's eyes. "Of course, son. We will be back before you know it."

Sam heard the hesitation in his father's voice, but didn't say anything. He slowly walked towards what would be his new home until that fateful evening.