They were never supposed to cross paths again. But when Ava walks into her new job and comes face to face with the man she once loved-and lost-neither of them speaks of the past. Not the love. Not the silence. Not the words that could've changed everything. Some stories don't need to be told aloud to be felt. Some endings never really end.

Some love stories begin with a spark. This one began with a secret, a lie, and a promise no one understood. As hearts collide and emotions unravel, one question remains-can love survive when everything is hidden?

This story is about dealing with mental challenges in a world which moves faster than our ability to adjust. About the desire to escape, and the cruel reminder that reality always keeps pace. After all, reality is a damn good sprinter. © All Rights Reserved | Helena Crow

/!\ This story is a work of fiction exploring the psychology of a young man who would later become one of history's most notorious figures. He is used here purely as a narrative archetype - a boy marked by trauma, neglect, and isolation - to examine human vulnerability and emotional connection. This story does not glorify or excuse his actions. The Holocaust and Jewish history are not the focus of this narrative. Long before the world knew him as one of history's darkest figures, Adolf was simply a young man scarred by violence, poverty, and rejection. Sophia is a girl from 2025 - sensitive, emotionally mature, and secretly a young witch. In search of peace, she prays under the moonlight... and is unexpectedly pulled into another time. With parts of her memory missing, she doesn't know she has crossed into Hitler's world - or who he truly is. Living in his neighborhood, Sophia's little brother becomes friends with Adolf. Through this fragile connection, Sophia steps into the guarded space of a boy who hides behind coldness, yet reveals unexpected vulnerability. This is a fictional glimpse into the troubled psychology of youth, loneliness, and the desperate search for meaning.

Being different, people throw that around like it means something. Like it's normal. Like it's safe. But I'm not just different. I'm alone. No name for what I am. No others like me. Not vampire. Not demon. Not human. Something else. Something wrong. In a world carved by blood and fire, where monsters walk in daylight and humans pretend, they're safe behind silver and salt, I exist between all of it. An anomaly. A threat. A mistake. They watch me. Fear me. But no one understands me. Not yet. And maybe when they do, it'll be too late.