Painted Faces

The Wake up Call

                   Germany 1933
Rudie's POV
We stood silently in the dim hallway. My heart was twisted with sadness and fear. There was small amount of fading sunlight shining through the window down the hall. My head was spinning and I felt as if I where living in a haze. My older brother Axel, leaned against the door that lead to our parents'
bedroom. He concentrated on what they where discussing. I opened my mouth to say something but Axel immediately shushed me. His hard grey gaze was fixed on the floor. Axel stepped backwards and the door opened. Papa appeared in the shadowy doorway. He wore a solemn expression.
"Come in children. Your mama would like to talk to you." He beckoned us in. Tears arose in my eyes. My twin sister, Annalise threw her hands to her mouth and she made a chocking sound.  My heart shattered.
"Don't be afraid my darlings," mama whispered.
"You wanted to say something to them didn't you Klara?" Papa coaxed her.
"Yes." She murmured.  "I will always love you. I may not be with you physically, but I will always watch you and guide you. Annalise, I want you take my earrings and the matching ring. I trust you to take care if them." Annalise nodded but didn't say anything. She went to the dresser where the earrings and ring where. The ring was sterling silver with a bright yellow Topaz stone in the center. The earrings where exactly like the ring.
"Axel, take care of your siblings, and when Kirsten returns tell her I said goodbye." Mama said quietly. "And Rudie, stay strong," she added. Axel nodded and I felt the tiny shards of what was left in my heart break even more.
"Come here my dears," mama muttered. We all got on her bed and huddled close to her. I was curled in a ball. All was silent except for the occasional sniffling. Mama's arm was rested over my shoulder. A feeble cough made me look up. Mama's eyes flickered and closed. She let out a wheezey breath. All was still. The silence was deafening. I looked up and saw my worst fear.
We all let out wails of anguish. Grief slammed into my chest. Tears flooded down my face. "Damnit, Klara," father breathed. I got up and rushed out of the room, tripping over my own feet. I fell with a thud and laid on the ground sobbing. I was born with a twisted leg that disabled me from doing most things that children my age do. For instance playing kickball or chasing each other in the field.
I heard footsteps behind me and when I looked over my shoulder I saw papa reaching out to me. "Don't touch me!" I yelled.
I ran into my room and slammed the door closed. I walked backwards until my back hit the wall. I slid down until i was on the floor. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to embrace myself the way mama used to. I tried to tell myself that this way all a harrowing nightmare, and that is wake up with mama at my bedside telling me it was just a dream.
She is still alive, she is still alive. She didn't die. This is all just a horrific dream, I told myself. I lied to myself all the time. But of corse I never believe me.
That night I cried until I had no more tears to shed. And I went to sleep knowing that it's time I stop living the child's dream and wake up to reality.

So tell me what ya think! Was it sad enough for you?😈
But don't worry, it gets better!