Of The Dark

Epilogue: Oskar

Three months.

Three months had passed since she had taken her life, since she had killed herself.

No, she didn't kill herself. It was you. You killed her. Hurriedly, I took a violent swing of vodka.

It was all your fault.

She was gorgeous. I had only seen her smile on a few occasions, but when she did, she glowed. Her smile radiated sunshine for miles on end as though there was nothing in her way. Her angelic doll-like face must have been carved by the hands of Aphrodite herself, because not a single spot of imperfection thrived to taint her beauty.

All. Your. Fault.

She was innocent. She was full of goodness and magnanimity. Her every bone and drop of blood heralded love and compassion and there wasn't a single cell in her body that knew the meaning of maleficence.

But now she's gone.

And though I knew there was no one left in the entire world to remember the goodness she did (for they had all suffered under my affiliated tyranny), I could feel a gap in the universe. I could feel the hole in the world her presence left that her absence haunted. I could feel the hollow of a lifetime without her and it burnt in my chest, more painful than anything I had ever felt before.

And for the first time, alcohol wasn't helping. Nothing I could do could drown away her face from my memory. I was branded by her impression of love and humanity and then with the sour aftertaste of her suffering and pain and hatred.

Hatred for me, of me.

She had every reason to hate me and she rightfully did. She knew I was a vile, disgusting monster even when I thought I was capable of changing for her. I tried my hardest but nothing I could do would have ever been enough to deserve her. And now she's gone. Just like that. Gone.

"We have arrived, Herr Diederich." The car came to an abrupt stop, presenting itself in front of an opulent abode sitting quite happily in the fresh spring air. The driver came round and opened the door to my right, taking his hat in his hands and standing with excellent posture. I exited the car slowly, almost losing balance with the waves of alcohol-induced aches in my head.

It's not just the alcohol, is it?

The last time I was away from the camps, she was with me. She looked just as fantastic as ever and... oh yes, and I told her I loved her. Now, I'm too scared to even say her name.

The double doors of the grand house opened, revealing three neatly dressed maids. They were all visibly older than her and not nearly as thin as she was.

"Heil Hitler," they each greeted me respectfully, accompanied by a small curtsy. I internally grimaced. I took another harsh swing of the drink, hoping it would bleach out those two words from my brain.

All of a sudden, high pitched girlish giggles filled the air (definitely not helping the blaring ache in my head).

"Oskar!" Shouted little Elsa running out of the house, catapulting herself at me. She leaped into my arm and I held her tight at my chest, her giddy smile and hazel eyes filling my vision. Her smile was infectious and somehow stole away the frown that was plastered on my face all day. It was always a delight to see my sister, no matter what the surrounding situation was.

More girlish voices arose as Ada and Carolina came running out of the doors. Carolina ran up to me and hugged my torso tightly, pressing her cheek against my abdomen. I stumbled back a little and tightened my grip on Elsa, who was showering kisses all over my face. I'm sure Carolina has grown two inches since I last saw her. Ada, however, took a more hostile approach and crossed her arms grumpily at my arrival.