Beauty and the Beast

Ata

I remember telling you I didn't have a boyfriend. Do you remember that? Well, I was lying to you, Reinhard—I did.
Are you surprised I lied to you and you didn't see me through?
His name is Vlastimil Moravec, known to friends and family alike as Ata.
Ata and I go way back, Reinhard. He was my playmate growing up for as long as we were both old enough to be playmates. Even after that, he continued to be a strong positive force in my life, so much so that I often referred to him as my brother.
Josef was older than him and Ata took to him like a mentor. Josef would help him with homework, he would teach him to box and wrestle on the weekends while I played with my dolls on the porch. I can vaguely remember myself cheering Ata on while Josef shot me dirty look after dirty look as I encouraged Ata to knock my brother to the dirt.
Our relationship only started to change when I was older. He would constantly send me flowers, hand them to me personally when he could, help me carry my books home on my way to school. My mother loved Ata dearly, but for some reason she didn't feel that the two of us belonged together.
Our first kiss was in the back of Josef's car. He had stopped by Ata's mother's house to pick up something she had set aside for him, and the two of us dove at our chance. What started out as a tentative tryst ended in a steamy make out session, yet we both managed to rouse ourselves before my brother came back to the car.
My first and only relationship will ever be with Ata Moravec. He died later on, as part of the sweeping reprisals that went on in Prague after your death.
We had always wanted to have sex for some reason. Ata and I read the same romance novels, and we both decided that before we got married we needed to be alone somewhere and test the waters.
That would never come to pass. All because of you, Reinhard. I never thought about Ata until after you attacked me in the woods, but when I did think about him, all it led back to was you.
I wasn't Ata's anymore. I could never be his. I had your name written all over me in invisible ink.

"Sophie. Sophie! Sophie, please, you have to get up!"
I don't want to get up. I don't want to open my eyes. Because if I do, I'll see him...
"Sophie...moje làska, it's me. Ata Moravec."
Ata.
"Is she even conscious?" Another voice, too far away for me to recognize.
Run away, Ata. I'm not me anymore. I'm not Sophie Gabcik...
"The girl is severely injured both physically and psychologically." That was the doctor. "It would be better if you left her be and kept communicating to a minimum."
My name is Reinhard Heydrich. I was born in Halle in 1904...
"What have they done to her?" That same voice, the one I couldn't recognize.
"I would not be able to disclose such information." Was that resignation I heard in the doctor's voice?
"You will disclose it." A shuffling of feet. "This girl is like a daughter to me. I demand to know what happened to her immediately!"
"Mamma, nestojí to za to."
Its not worth it. Ata sounded desperate, like he was trying to prevent his mother from attacking the doctor.
You're right, Ata. It's so not worth it...run away...go away before I am forced to wake up...
Loud, clomping footsteps. Snide laughter coming from far away.
"Heil Hitler!" A collective shuffling of feet, a pregnant pause.
"How is our dear patient coming along?"
It was your voice. I felt my chest clench up, my brain beginning to fry. I heard a loud, rapid fire beeping that rapidly escalated into an ear piercing squeal.
Temporary darkness.
Reinhard Heydrich. It is him after all. Say hello...don't disappoint him.
"I hope you're not having a heart attack, my dear." Your voice sounded anything but concerned.
I opened unseeing eyes to look at you. You stared back at me with the indifferent, cold eyes of a rapist.
"Leave us."
A shuffle of feet. Soles of shoes against the linoleum. The final click of the door shutting.
"Answer me," you said, "Have you learned your lesson?" You pulled up the doctor's swivel chair and sat yourself down on it. "Or do you need me to re-educate you again?"
Tell him you love him. Tell him that it was a mistake, that you weren't thinking clearly. Thank him for setting you straight.
I heard myself talking. I had no idea what I was saying, but I swear I heard  a mispronounced Ich liebe dich somewhere.
You rose to your feet. You smiled.
"What a commendable change of heart. We shall see how well you behave when you return to the chateau, my dear girl. For now, rest and recover."
Don't leave me. Please don't leave me like all the others did.
I felt my hand move. You balked, staring down at your wrist, which now has a hand holding onto it, tugging at it desperately. I hope it's my hand. I'm so dizzy...I'm  falling...
He will catch you if you fall...if only you'd let him...
I can hear myself talking some more. I don't know what I'm saying; don't know what's going on.
You laughed. You sat down in the chair. You watched me.
I can see you, and now I can't.
I heard a click. The door opened; the shuffling of feet could be heard once again.
A collective Heil Hitler.
No!!!!
Pressure on my arm. My fingers being curled into a fist.
You need to see him, to look at him. To know that everything is going to be all right.
A sharp prick on my wrist. I heard someone screaming, Reinhard, Reinhard. Reinhard, Reinhard.
Is it me? I don't know. Because then I am falling, and the blackness is all around me.