Son of Angels #Justwriteit #firsts

Part 1-The Storm

The soles of my leather shoes pounded hard against the concrete as I walked along the path leading up to the local bakery. A light sprinkle of rain dripped upon the sleeves of my white cotton shirt, leaving small damp spots. Automobiles continued up the road to the left of me, splashing up puddles of water from yesterday's stormy weather. The tall terracotta town houses lined up each side of the road, each dawning a balcony with a few plants upon it. My eyes drifted up to the indigo rain clouds hovering above Munich, a drop of rain splashed on my nose.

The ration papers held in my hand crinkled as I tightened my grip, a gang of young men were walking in my direction, sweat started to drip down the side of my face. This gang was no ordinary gang, teenagers that had been influenced by the heavy propaganda of our furher. They wore navy blue uniform with a ski cap on each of their heads, also a red band on their upper arm with the swastika centred in it. These manipulated officers were once my friends but now they made me nervous, bullying I because I didn't fall in to Hitler's trap. It saddened me deeply at the first time they beat me up for not joining the Hitler Youth I felt a sense of betrayal these men were once my companions.

The hem of my thick brown coat flapped in the wind as I continued. As my feet drew me closer toward this Youth I tucked my nimble hands into the large pockets of my coat, hiding my ration papers. My hands began to sweat as the members of the Youth circled around me, laughing and taunting me.

"Well look who we have here, German scum," A stocky blonde boy said. He shoved me, my body falling into another boys hands who in turn pushed me as well.

"Empty your pockets," demanded a skinny boy.

My hands remained clenched around my ration papers, I knew that they would take them away from me if I showed them, I slipped them up my coat sleeve in one single motion. They didn't notice.

"There is nothing in my pockets, see," I said, a smirk crawling it's way onto my face. The blonde boy did not approve of my pockets being empty. He stormed up to me shoving my shoulder hard, his posse following in his wake. My hands grasped my shoulder, I winced as I turned my neck to watch them walking to their next victim.

"Dimitri! Dimitri!" A shout came from a distance away, slipping my rations back into my pocket I took off toward the girl calling to me, my short curls swayed as I ran. The cold breeze bit at my cheeks, the drizzling had stopped.

The girl standing before me looked beautiful.

I on the other hand probably looked very unattractive in my large coat, white cotton shirt, brown trousers and to top it off my leather braces and paisley scarf relaxing around my neck. Her big eyes peered up at mine, they were a forest green.

"Dimitri did you hear what I said?" She asked tucking a loose strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. Her voice sounded like angels singing in his ears. "Ida! I didn't hear you, sorry," I said.

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Well I was saying, you shouldn't let that idiot gang of boys push you around." Her dark brown cardigan hung loose on her slender frame, she tugged at it as a cold breeze swept over them.

"I know, you have told me this time after time Ida, I just ignore them," I said, my feet starting to continue walking to the bakery

"You can't ignore them your whole teenage life Dimitri, you must stand up for yourself." She followed my lead and joined my side, walking in step with me.

The Bakery wasn't to far away now. "Look Ida, can I speak to you later." I walked up the stairs to the small quaint Bakery, a small sign hung on a metal rod attached to the brick wall. Ida stood her mouth wide open, "You can be very rude Dimitri, fine go buy your bread and remember your rations." Before he knew it she was gone, storming off in the same directions the Youth boys.