The shadow seemed to glare at her.
Celina gulped, bracing for an arrest or some sort of punishment. And then the shadow seemed to separate, like a blob splitting into two. And then Celina found that there were two shadows.
"Mariusz? Anka!" she whispered, a smile of relief forming on her lips. Mariusz and Anka quickly emerged from the dark, a streetlight shining on their cheeks. Mariusz seemed relieved, yet bit his lip in annoyance at the same time. His jaw quivered, pulling Anka closer to his side.
"I told you both to go, not just Celina, Anka," he said, raising up the two knapsacks in his hand, "and you forgot this, Celina."
Celina nodded, snatching the bag out of his hand. Glancing back and forth, the trio broke out into a run, sliding in and out of shadows and crawling against walls. Celina felt the breeze toy with her hair, tranquil despite the growing fear in her heart. They'd escaped this time, but the soldier would surely be after them once again.
And then her heart sank. Aneta.
She could easily be arrested, even if they didn't find any evidence of Jews hiding. And it would be all their fault.
"Mariusz, what took you so long to get down here?" she asked, panting heavily. By now they had weaved through various buildings, both large and small, and were standing at the side of an old coffee shop. Celina gazed bleakly into the distance, hoping to see the countryside, yet only endless rows of buildings appeared.
"I h-had too...straighten up a little," he murmured, gasping for air. Clutching his abdomen, Mariusz surveyed the area before boldly stepping out of the safety of the shadow.
"You're really out of shape."
Anka smiled at this, following her brother at a trot. Together they made their way through the city of Prague. Despite being here for only a few hours, Celina felt an attachment to the city. It was the closest thing to home; a place where they had a real bedroom and a hostess who actually cared for them. And to think, she might share the same fate as her father.
Celina shuddered. She grasped the leather journal tighter to her chest.
A while later, once they reached the outskirts of town, Celina plopped into a field of wildflowers, exhausted. A grouping of trees cropped up merely a few feet in front, lush and green, reminding her of the fairy tales her father used to tell her. Mariusz came up beside her, his face red with exertion. Anka was fortunate enough to get a free ride and ride on his back.
"Wh-what else did the journal..." he paused to take a breath, "...say."
Celina pulled the journal out of the knapsack, fingering over its rough cover. "I don't know. I haven't had the chance to read it yet." She resisted the urge to snap. Tenderly, she opened the journal, flipping to the next page. Melancholy laced her every movement. Again, she was greeted by her father's flowing handwriting.
Dearest Celina,
I see you've decided to continue on despite my perhaps harsh words. I'm extremely proud of you for that, my darling. I do hope you consider what I've said.
Each of these entries, Celina, is meant to help you along your journey of transforming yourself, whether that be in attitude or helping others or doing whatever Budny has put you up to. Each one is dated based on the number of days, "Day One", "Day Two", etc. Please only read one entry per day, I have written them specifically to encourage you along and remind you of me every single day of your journey.
I do not know what Budny has put you up to, but whatever it is, stay safe. I specifically asked him to find you some work that requires traveling, some type of work that will get you away from home. Traveling isn't without its risks, however, so stay safe.
YOU ARE READING
Tulips in Her Hand
Historical Fiction(Currently Editing) Poland, 1942. When Celina Rudaski took the evening train to Warsaw, she did not expect to return responsible for the lives of two Jews. Then again, she did not expect her father to be whisked away in the middle of the night by so...