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Ripping Seams

The front door creaked open, shut. Chairs scraped against the floor, Mama was sobbing. I sniffed, wiping my eyes and stood. Otto shook his head.
"We should stay here, let them talk alone."
"No, we need to be together." I headed for the stairs, but stopped at the door frame. "Are you coming or not?" Otto sighed, stood, and followed me down.
It was eerily quiet downstairs; the sobs had softened. Papa sat beside her, his arm around her. Perhaps he could comfort her, but he could not protect her from the horrors that had just occurred.
"Mama?" I whispered. She didn't look up. Papa noticed us in the doorway and beckoned to us. "Mama?" I tried again. I looped my arms around her; she clung to them like a life line. She stared at the wall, lifeless except the little gasps that escapees her throat. Until her eyes settled on Otto.
"You," she snarled. Otto's head shot up from where it had been sitting on his forearms.
"Mutter?" he asked, questioning the angry scowl on her face. What had he done? She shot up from her chair so fast that it tumbled behind her and took me with it.
"That is who you have joined! They are the ones who have done this! How dare you look at me! How dare you look at any of us! You are no better than them-!" Papa and I met eyes nervously. You never know who can hear. Otto glanced between the two of us. If the neighbors should hear her-
"Are you listening to me?" Mama's shrill voice interrupted our thoughts. "Or have you gone deaf? How dare you come into this house! You are no better than them! You are no better than the rest of those cold hearted, child stealing, miserable humans!" In her disgust, she spat on the floor. I had never, ever seen her do anything of this sort. My composed and serene mother was long gone by now. Papa reached up to her, placing a hand on her arm.
"Julia," he said soothingly. I understood the message. If someone hears-
"Nein!" she shouted. And then to Otto, "get out! Get out! So help me if I see you again before the sun comes up-!" Otto turned and hurried out the door without a moment's second thought. The door slammed behind him.
"Go change out of that blouse and bring it down for me to fix." I spun and stared at her. Calm, composed Mama was back. I shook my head and ran to the stairs. I flung myself onto the bed, clutching a pillow and crying. Jan was gone, and I feared that soon Mama would be too. Wherever Jan was, perhaps he was safe. Perhaps he was being taken to Poland or America, and we could send for him when the war was over. When Otto could come home, and we would all be together and go to America. I clung to this thought as I changed into a nightgown, stockings, sweater and shoes. Creeping down the stairs would not be an easy task, but I made it without anyone questioning my dress or the blouse I had in my hand. No one was out, except Otto, who did not respond when I called his name. I sat next to him, the cold stone seeping through my clothes. He noticed, and folded me under the right side of his coat. It was warm from where his arm had been, even when I thanked him he did not answer.
"I taught him about the stars a few days ago," he said. He nodded to the sky, his blue eyes glistening. "Maybe...if he remembers..." Otto bowed his head and passed a hand over his face.
"Maybe he can follow them back to us," I finished. He turned to me.
"Alina, listen to me. Listen to your heart, don't let go. Keep your eyes wide open. The world will shake you, it will horrify you. But you are strong. Follow your heart." I blinked. I could not comprehend the message. He sensed my confusion, but continued. "Follow and you will never be lost." I nodded, pretending to be wiser than I actually was. I began to pull at the seams in my blouse.
Pop one for Jan
Pop another for Otto
Pop Mama
Pop Jacob
Pop Papa
A single stitch was left.
Pop I lost myself
Everything was ripping apart and taking me with it.