Hope among the ruins (EN) ✅

Chapter 15

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I woke up in a bright room. The walls were yellow-green, and there were small windows with white painted wooden frames. Turning my head to the left, I saw a nightstand with three drawers standing next to the bed, and a small lamp with a round shade on it. On the left side, right at the corner, there is one open window, next to it on the wall in front of me - another. The third is in the same place, only closer to the white painted door.

Desperate heat seeped through them all, but the curtains fluttered lightly from the breeze that came in in small gusts. He tickled my skin, gently caressing my straight, long, black hair, which was still sticky from sweat and scattered everywhere.

Sitting down, I put my legs down and put my hands on my knees. I stared at the mahogany floor, and it creaked when I stood up. I even gritted my teeth from this sound that painfully passed through my temples.

It's unfortunate.

This house is falling apart, and the bombs of the war did not even touch it. It's weirder than weird.

I went to the window and looked outside. The view through it was nothing special. The house stood right next to a gravel road with tall, green trees immediately visible on the other side. No doubt a forest or a small grove.

On one side of the house is the desert, on the other is nature full of life. The contrast is obvious.

This made me wonder: why?

And perhaps more importantly: how?

Deciding to forget these conflicting feelings, I was about to go to the door, but when it opened, the same woman to whom I had sought refuge entered the room, and after mentioning Tobias's name, and before I could finish my sentence, I passed out on the floor of the porch, looking at me as if I would have just put a gun to her forehead.

In her hands she held a white, neatly folded towel and a dark brown, rectangular bar of soap. Coming closer, she rudely put everything in my hands.

"Follow me," he ordered sternly and, waving his head at himself, left the room.

I followed the woman in silence until we reached the bathroom. When I entered it, I looked around.

"When you take a shower, don't forget to wash the bathroom. And don't leave your hair. You will find the shampoo in the cupboard," she frowned again, and looking at me with a hostile look, she closed the bathroom door from the other side.

I didn't even get to thank her.

Only now did I realize that the mistress of this house (at least I thought she was), as soon as she entered the room where I lay unconscious for an unknown amount of time, spoke to me in English. Although it felt like a weak accent, I understood every word she said. But she also knew German, because she really understood what I told her about Tobias in that language.

Pushing extraneous thoughts away, I looked around. The bathroom was modest and simple. The floor is covered with simple, cream-colored tiles. Like all walls. The bathroom was also small and the shower head hung on the wall.

There was a toilet next to the bathroom, and a simple wooden cabinet right next to it.

A large mirror was propped up against the other wall just outside the bathroom door. I saw myself in it at full height. I placed the towel on that wooden cabinet and stood in front of my reflection in the mirror.

I looked tragic. Even when I nursed the sick, I wasn't as terrible as I am now. Not human at all.

I had always been too thin for as long as I could remember, but now I was almost a skeleton. The jaws are sunken, as are the eye sockets. I have purple circles under my eyes, my skin is pale, although I don't know how many days I should be tanned in the sun. On the skin, burns, bites, scratches and blisters piled up on top of each other.

Looking into my gray, tired eyes, I wondered how much longer this war would last. How long will soldiers and innocent people die senselessly? How long will it take for us, the people, to understand that war is not the best solution, that revenge does not make our lot easier. That the evil done to another will not bring a ray of love or happiness to our hearts.

I slowly took off my pants and unbuttoned my shirt. While pulling them off behind the wall, I heard the owner of this house arguing with someone very strongly. I also heard a male voice, but they were talking in a language I did not understand at all. I have never heard anything like that in my life. Staring down at my bare little breasts, I decided not to listen to the voices and even more so resist the temptation to listen to a stranger's conversation. However, the rising voices really disturbed those minutes of peace.

Stroking the ends of my long, black and matted hair, I shook my head to the side and walked over to the tub, running hot water. I knew now would be the hardest part: getting into the hot water and soaping off all the dirt with bruises, scrapes and sores all over my body. Gritting my teeth, I suffered those pains until I soaped my whole body and rubbed the baked-on dirt and sweat from my skin.

After getting out of the bath, I dried my body with a towel and very quickly shampooed my head and rinsed it with cool water. I felt a little more refreshed now, although it would take some time for my body to recover and all those injuries to heal. The worst will be with the feet, because the blisters and calluses will not heal as quickly when walking.

There was a knock on the bathroom door right after I finished washing the bath. After all, the hostess of this house clearly said that I must wash her and collect all the hair that has fallen out. So that's what I did. While I was washing, the quarrel between her and that man finally calmed down.

"Can I come in?" she asked and pursed her lips tightly.

"Yes," I nodded and cupped my loose hair in my hand.

"Mom said to bring these clothes for you," she announced as soon as she walked in and closed the door behind her. The girl spoke German. She held neatly folded clothes in her hands. "She thought they would suit you because you're a similar build to me."

"Thanks," another shaky nod. I was looking at a brown-eyed, brown-haired girl whose facial features were very similar to that woman - my mother. She was still smiling sweetly and modestly, and I couldn't suppress even the tiniest of wry smiles.

"Mom said you came from the east," she continued looking me straight in the eyes. "How is everything there? Eastern Front?"

"You got it," I answered and sighed deeply as I approached the girl. I thought that I was standing for too long as if I were carved from stone. She must be tired of storing clothes. I took them and she seemed relieved to relax. "Cities are compared to lands. There were practically no survivors left. More and more innocent people are dying every day. And, of course, soldiers."

The girl put a hairbrush on the cabinet and black shoes with low heels and pointed toes on the floor.

"Have the Germans not yet accepted the British offer to withdraw?" she wondered.

"Unfortunately, no," I shrugged. "Hitler does not give up so easily. And I don't think I will give up. It will probably go all the way."

"The Germans killed almost our entire family," the girl said. "By the way, I'm Meryl."

"Elizabeth Lemeninger," I introduced myself and nodded again.

"Mother has almost prepared dinner. You are invited to eat together, so hurry up." Meryl said and left the bathroom.

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