Forbidden

The Mask That Changed My Life

It's been two months since it happened. Two months since I lost my best friend. Two months since I understood how serious it was getting outside.

The harsh air raid sirens rang out over my teacher, drowning her words in a blaring warning to get to safety. The small cup of chalk she kept on her desk toppled over. I quickly grabbed my mask, as we always did during an air raid, and ran over to the small clump of my classmates near my teacher. As always, she tried to yell over the deafening alarm, but was incapable of being loud enough. I scanned our class for my friend Glenn as I pulled my mask on. Securing it, I realized it would be impossible to find him in this frantic classroom. As everyone seemed to gather around my teacher, I was pulled into the mob, pressed in between two kids who I didn't know. The sirens gradually got softer, but I don't know if that was because I was used to them. One of my classmates, Magna, had started panicking, as she usually did during air raids. I could make out my teacher, Mrs. Frankel, trying to calm her as I heard a faint crash from the other side of the building. I could see some people flinch as the crashes got closer, until suddenly the classroom door flew open. The clump got smaller, the mood more tense and frightened. Instinctively, I checked to make sure my mask was secure. Usually, there was no harmful chemicals in the air, but something told me this time was different. A few minutes later, another crash was heard down the hall. I finched on instinct, quickly moving closer to the clump. I scanned the small crowd to see if I would have any luck finding Glenn; I failed. Just as I was about to turn back to looking at the pile of rubble near the door, something unexpected happened. Someone dropped to the floor. This wasn't supposed to happen. Our masks were supposed to protect us, I thought. Everyone scrambled around, freaking out just as I was. This couldn't have happened. No, it wasn't possible. The crashes went away and our teacher started ushering us outside of the classroom. We could hear what she was saying clearly now, as we were all dead silent.
" Komm schon! Bleib in Bewegung! Wir werden die Sicherheit! Schau nicht mehr zurück! Es wird in Ordnung sein!" Her words cut through the silence like a knife. We started to follow her out to the field, climbing over some rubble. As we reached the field, we took off our masks, knowing the air was safe out here. I searched frantically for Glenn, but I couldn't find him. That could only mean one thing, and I wouldn't accept that. My best friend was not dead. But the reality of the situation struck me hard, and I fell to my knees.

The funeral for Glenn was pure torture, and I still couldn't believe my best friend was dead.

Two months later, we were back in class, listening to Mrs. Frankel drone on and on and on about how great Hitler was. How he had sworn to protect us and get us our nation back. It was already in effect. Our schools were prospering, and you could see the general mood of Germany getting better. After about another half hour of lessons, there was a small knock on the door. It creaked open to reveal our vice principal. "Heil Hitler," she squeaked in her annoying voice. The door swung open to reveal a boy standing behind her. "This is your new classmate. His name is Alek." She addressed our class.