Broken Wings

Nightmares

Else Schüffen-   Munich, Germany 1942

 
Autumn breezes brought new emptiness for Else.

She was due for a time at their secret place.

"Mama, I'm going to Myna's," she called, gently shutting the kitchen door. It moaned, scraping slightly across the floor. Else shivered, pulling her scarf tighter. Winter was anxious to come. Myna was already waiting outside on the front steps, marching in place to keep warm. Orange leaves spun down from the motherly branches, creating a rain-like effect.

"Do you want to go?" Myna asked.

Else smiled, looking her friend in the eye. They both knew what they wanted; there was no need to linger any longer. It felt good to brush against the field of wildflowers, to feel the breeze against her cheeks.

Freedom. It's what freedom felt like.

Myna crawled her way through the gaping hole in the wall, mud streaking her face. Else laughed, shaking her head.

Ah, the wonders of friendship.

"We haven't been here since last summer," Else said, staring at the sky in awe. The marble statue floated out of the courtyard, its angelic-like state still preserved. It was unchanged, save the few autumn leaves that dotted the edges.

"Myna?"

"Ja?" she answered, curling up at the edge of the fountain.

"I miss him."

"I know." Silence filled the air, resting on the edge of the fountain where the two girls sat. The words were past them now.

❀❀❀

Constant arguments erupted after dark, their whispers floating throughout the attic. They were always muted and faint, but, nonetheless, their heated tone was still heard by the little girl sleeping in the attic. The whispers burned more fiercely this night. Else enclosed herself in the safety of her blankets, trying to block out the noise. Relief seemed far away.

Though, it was actually in the same room.

Else stared at the dimensions of the partially filled canvas, admiring its rough texture. Dreams filled with paint and tears overtook her mind, relieving her of the faraway whispers.

But they only brought a different sense of nightmare.

One stood prominently out in Else's mind, swallowing her in a bed of sweat and tears.

The date had been November 9th, 1938. A woman lay in a bed of glass, her hand draped against the cobblestone brick. Blood trickled through the cracks, swirling at her feet. A fire simmered behind her, feeding on the wood of a store. Her gray eyes were motionless; her dark hair clung to her cheeks.

"Max, get inside. Maximilian!" The screams echoed in Else's ears, ones of the Jews around her, and ones of the Nazis. Boots stomped towards them, clothed in blood. Else knelt down by the bleeding Jew, studying her lifeless face.

"Get out of here!"

Her knees fell backwards, crashing into Max's arms. He coughed at the impact, ashes swirling around their pale faces. Else buried herself in his arms, trying to shut out the horrors she witnessed before her. His heart was beating wildly, thumping rhythmically against her frozen back. Fresh cuts had lined his arm, bleeding into Else's heart.

The horrors would not disappear.

A whining scream penetrated her deep sleep. It wailed through the air ceaselessly, refusing to stop until every last person was awake. Mama's voice resonated in Else's ears.

"Else! Get up, there's an air raid!" The Schüffen house came alive with bustling people, grabbing suitcases and clothes and belongings. Else sat up in her bed, engulfed in fear. Shouts erupted from below, calling her down.

"Maximilian's picture," she whispered, pulling it from its spot on the bed frame. It made a cozy spot in between her pajamas and her bare skin.

The chilly night air pierced her cheeks. Fear was visible in the eyes and movements of the people scattered throughout Fünfte Strasse. Else trailed behind Father, gazing at the different people that walked in front of them.

One might be surprised at what she saw.

Most people had arms overflowing with bags and blankets, children pulling at their sides in fear. However, one cluster of people stood out in the eyes of a little girl who just lost her brother due to the evil of this world.

These people's arms were overflowing with a Jew. Instead of throwing him to the ground, they lifted him up, carrying them like they would a child.

One of them bore a Nazi uniform.

The Jew's eyes fluttered open for just a minute, his eyes resting on Else's shoulders. He smiled weakly at her.

Else smiled weakly back.

"Else, do try to keep up," her mother hissed, pulling her along. The designated air raid shelter came into view, hovering above the people of Fünfte Street. The air raid shelter was rather a dusty one. The smell of burnt bread and scrubbed floors filled Else's nose, causing it to wrinkle in disgust.

"Come, Else, down the stairs."

The basement was even worse. Several people were already crowded in, huddling next to each other like little ducklings. Else frowned, choosing a spot in the corner next to a can of paint. She fingered the label, taking in the smell of burnt bread and now the chemical aroma of paint.

"Mama, what were you doing on that night with the broken glass and all the fires?" Else whispered, glancing around the room to make sure there were no mysterious eavesdroppers. Eavesdroppers were quite undesirable, and were to be avoided at all costs.

"What? Where is this coming from?"

"Never mind." Else sighed, glancing back at the paint can. The image of broken glass would not leave her mind. It haunted her for the duration of the air raid. Coughs broke out throughout the shelter, interrupting the flow of images that haunted Else's mind for just a few minutes. Children were crying, their heads buried in woolen coats. The Jew was nowhere to be found, hidden amongst the crowd. It was then that Else realized she wasn't afraid. Death did not frighten her, nor did it Mama or Father. Maybe it was because they had already experienced things worse than death.

"Father?" she asked, this time turning towards her father. He spun around, a smile curving upon his face.

"Ja, Else?"

"I'm not afraid of the bombs."

"Me neither." He patted his little girl's head, turning around to face the man he was chatting with before. Apparently, the man was new to Fünfte Strasse. He had never experienced an air raid before. The fear was prominent on his face.

Else laughed silently.

She wasn't afraid anymore.