Layla

Chapter 8, Caspartina Part 3, 1962

March 15, 1962

(8:30 pm)

"Where did you learn English Layla?" The telepath asked as though she cared. 

Layla was just waiting for her opportunity to get off this boat, but so far the only opportunity she had to escape was to drown herself in the free liquor. And she was admittedly indulging more than she should. 

She had just finished a pink lady when the telepath had handed her a pink squirrel. And that had just been after she had tucked in Pietro for the night in his bed. His bedroom aboard the Caspartina was what every little boy would want for a bedroom. The walls were painted with scenes from their favorite cartoons, toys scattered throughout the room, and fine furniture that matched the room's theme. There were pictures all around, framed on the walls and side tables, of Pietro and that monster, smiling at the photographer and doing any other mundane task a grandparent does with their grandchild... As if he really cared. 

But he didn't. And he wasn't Pietro's grandfather, he wasn't her father. He was just... a monster. And here she was drinking his booze while she plotted to run away. She was that same selfish girl she always had been. Taking comfort in the few niceties Herr Doktor provided before cowering before him when he decided to take them all away and bring back the pain. It was happening to her again and she was willingly letting it happen, like the fool she was. 

How many would she kill this time around? What would she do? Would she kill her own son? All because he told her to, threatened her with pain and she would do it. It was going to be just like last time... With somehow even more death. And she would go willingly into the fray because she was a coward. Because she was a weak little girl that let herself succumb to weakness. 

Pietro was likely asleep in his comfy red bed with little idea that one day, his supposedly loving "Opa" would order his own mother to kill him. That was how it was going to happen. He doesn't develop the abilities that his parents have, he's a normal human being, and what happens? She's forced to kill him in the most painful way possible, all for the enjoyment of Schmidt. 

"After I was saved from Auschwitz by the Soviets," Layla began, making sure to be clear she had been a victim. "They placed me with a family in Poland who spoke German. Little less than a year after the war ended, and realizing it'd be cheaper to pay for me to go off to school than stay there, they packed me up and shipped me to Frankfurt. I studied at an American school there, they taught us poor Germans English and typing in an effort to better our country." 

Schmidt was watching her as she downed the last of her pink squirrel. He hadn't even flinched at the mention of Auschwitz, as if he had neglected to remember that key part of his life. The true monster cared little for the thousands he had killed and the millions he had helped to be killed by being a damned nazi in the first place. 

And here she was now, getting drunk while the nazi watched her. How charming. What would her poor father think of her? He'd never forgive her for her sins already committed, what was one more hundred thousand to add to the list of millions already committed? She was going to burn in hell for her crimes, but at least she could rest easy knowing Schmidt would too. 

"Where did you work?" Schmidt asked, searching for information regarding a career path to look for her should she escape. 

"I worked several positions," Layla admitted, making sure to be careful to omit just enough to still keep that job market open to her. "I was a translator for the US army for a brief period. I was a receptionist at a hotel frequented by American tourists for about two years. When Pietro was born I was doing freelance work for various German companies looking to get into an English-speaking market."