The School of Hell

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     Today, you readers can get a sense of how my school specifically was dealt in back in 1942. It was semi-normal I guess. We had classes for 2 hours a piece with 5 classes. Rough times though. Half of the students are so tired we can't do any extracurricular activities afterwards. 10 hours a day 6 days a week. We get Sunday off for "church" purposes. Everyone knows the real truth about that. I can get back to that topic later.
     I walk into my first class. 5th year of taking an English class. That's how a little ol' German boy like myself got into English writing like this. I plan on somehow mailing it to the United States of America to get this published anonymously because I have heard that's possible. Maybe if I have kids by the time this is gets big I can track down the book and get the checks for it to take care of my family and get the fuck out of here. Being stuck in Germany at my age is just a horrible experience. To be honest, I think at this point I would rather be a jew and be prosecuted to the extent of death.
     As I sit down in my class I get a slight voice in my head telling my to fall to my left so I do and right after that a kids hand come slinging through the air. "I dont know what just happened but im glad I didnt get hit by that. I felt the weird," I thanked the voice in my head.
     Todays school day is suppose to be the beginning of my last week in Germany. I'm suppose to go off to war because I feel like I can help us get an advantage honestly. Mainly because I go insane over the voices and sometimes they are helpful.

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 21, 2020 ⏰

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