Of The Dark

Chapter 4

A long night pursued after witnessing my mother almost suffocate and bleed to death, but it warranted no sufficient excuse to not show up to work at five am the following morning.

The day passed fairly the same as yesterday, only today I had to bear the weight of knowing Mama was lying alone in the infirmary without me or Lola or decent medical attention by her side. Drowned in mop buckets, floor cleaner and a steam-swamped kitchen, the effort of keeping my mind off Mama's condition didn't go to full waste. I was even graced by the charm of not having to see Herr Diedrich at all today and now I was just waiting for him to return so I could be dismissed and go see my mother.

I stood patiently in his room (careful not to pick up anything I shouldn't, from experience), awaiting his return. An hour passed, then two, until it reached midnight and the aching desire to see my mother was eating out at me. I couldn't leave until he let me but it didn't look like he was coming back anytime soon, since Matron stated four am earliest. Maybe if I explained to her my circumstance, Matron would let me go on her authority. I had to make sure Mama was stable and I was hoping that meant more to her than it does to him.

I stepped out of his room, adrenaline kicking in as my heartbeat rose to my ears. I checked left and right, ensuring not many people were around, reassured by the fact it was past midnight so most workers would be resting in the camps or working down in the basement. I tiptoed down the grand staircase and every step I took told me that this was a bad idea.

Maybe I should just go back. Even if he returned at four, at least I could see my mother with my mind more at ease.

It was that moment where I was enriched by the presence of Herr Diedrich stumbling in through the door, a bottle in one hand and a darkening bruise on the other.

My eyes travelled up to his face, decorated with a bruised jaw and a nasty gash on his forehead that left a trail of blood down his cheek. His dreary eyes lit up when they landed on me, instantly staggering over in my direction.

I didn't know what to do. Maybe he was drunk enough to not realise if I ran away? I could pretend I'm someone else and just casually walk by?

Sighing, I walked over to him and pulled his arm around my shoulders for support.

My inner voice told me that he deserved to suffer considering the countless lives he has taken. He was a ruthless soldier and a depraved person. Thousands like me were trapped under his sort of terror and I could only imagine how much that was going to inflate by over the war. Even if it meant I couldn't kill him myself, what harm could it do to leave him to bleed for just one night?

My conscience started kicking in, screaming don't you dare. What kind of person have I become? The girl I was three days ago would never leave a person to sit in pain no matter what their crimes. Who was I to decide what kind of punishment each person deserves?

Anyways, if he did end up bleeding to death, I would have to go back to shovelling the watchful eye of dozens of gun armed and life mouldering SS men, which didn't seem very attractive at all.

"Careful," I advised, guiding his weight on me up the stairs attempting to not fall. He tripped and toppled, tightening his grip around me for constant balance. He winced as I grabbed his injured hand to level his weight on my shoulders.

The stench of alcohol was prominent on him as Herr Diedrich took another swing of the liquid in his hand. Slipping the bottle away from him, a resentful expression replaced his drunken scowl.

"M-mine!" He lunged for the bottle, stumbling and falling head first onto the sharp edge of a step, pulling me down with him.

I managed to minimise the impact on me by extending my arms out in front, leading only to a sharp hit on my forearm and not my face. However, he was not wise (or sober) enough to do the same, causing the already heavy cut on his forehead to deepen even more.