Chasing Colours

18. To a place far far away

(Edith)

It was the early morning when the family gathered at the church for the final rites for my mother as well as for Alfred. It was chilly outside, a heavy blanket of snow coating the Earth. I remember how when I was young, my mother would ask me

"Do you know what happens to this snow?"

I would then shake my head, urging her to hurry and answer her own question. She would giggle then ruffle my hair and reply,

"It melts. And paves way for spring to come. No matter how thick the winter is, spring always comes after that."

I wondered if she had been proven wrong that time. What if the snow didn't melt but just got thicker? Would spring still come?

I looked back at the ritual in front, breaking my attention away from the steady snow.

Such uncertainties.

The two gravediggers stood in front cloaked in black, hoods covering their neatly sandy brown hair. Their eyes were hollow, no emotions in it. I wonder how many graves had they dug their entire lives and how many more they would dig. Maybe they got devoid of the emotions that went down with the grave they were digging. It was nothing more than a job to them.

My father stood next to me in an attention position, his nose becoming redder with time. On my left stood Albert looking down at his foot. I could hear they heavy breathing.

Next to him, on the other side stood Ingrid, her eyes down and her face blank.

Her eyes were watching her own heart break into pieces. I remember her face with her eyes crying out loud and screaming at me desperately. Her love story was one of those stories that had been left unfinished. Heinz had broken the promise for he hadn't returned.

A mother. A brother. A lover. Gone in the blink of an eye no moment spent would ever be enough.

I sighed silently, closed my eyes and took a deep breath and waited for the tedious moment to get over.

----x-----x----

It was October of 1944 and the war was slowly coming to an end with the Axis powers on the losing side. But hope for the jews? Not so much yet. The condition of the Jews and the undesirables were worse than ever. There were times, we saw Jews walking to the camps, naked and malnutrition. It was like seeing live skeletons dragging their feet, exhausted and begging for mercy. Their silent screams were deafening. If anyone paused for a breath, the officers were right behind to whip them to walk ahead while for some, their body just gave up.

It was getting colder with the sun slowly setting down in the horizon. It had been two months already after the funeral. I hadn't heard from Arno for a long time, neither had I tried to contact him.

It was ironic to state that life was beginning to seem peaceful. Not peaceful but monotonous. There hadn't been any air attacks upon my town but we were always running to the shelter houses whenever we heard the sirens ring. It had become a regular part of life. No one talked much in the house, everyone had become strangers under one roof. Time and then, Ingrid would try to start a conversation with me but slowly would forget her words, slipping into exhaustion. I didn't put any effort towards it either. Maybe it was better that way.

I leaned upon the window pane, watching the winter blues set it. A calm yet exhausted breeze blew across my face. A breeze exhausted of death, reluctant to flow anymore. I closed my eyes and sighed. Closing the window, I walked outside my room. I squinted my eyes a little as the outside light hit me.