I Got Soul but I'm Not a Soldier
I got soul but I'm not a soldier, Ch. 6
6
Ryan and I travelled for a long time, following the coastline. We tried to hide ourselves as good as possible. During the night, we slept in houses that were abandoned by people who had fled for the war and in haylofts from farms, but most of the time, we had to sleep under the night sky. We had one blanket, that we had taken from one of the houses we slept in one night and since it was still March or April, we had lost track of time, the nights were pretty chilly. Luckily we still had each other to stay warm.
“Good night,” Ryan whispered, pressing his lips against mine for a small goodnight kiss. “Good night,” I replied, after pulling back. That night, we had been lucky; we had found a farm and had sneaked into the barn. There were still people living in the farmhouse, so we had to be careful and not show ourselves to them.
I closed my eyes, holding Ryan close to my body, not only for the warmth he gave me, but more to feel him and smell him. Even though it had been a while since he -or I- last touched a bar of soap, I could still smell that typical Ryan-smell of his. It was a smell I had grown accustomed to and couldn’t have missed for the world.
It didn’t take long until I heard the familiar little snores escaping from Ryan’s mouth. I could never fall asleep before hearing those snores; nowadays, I still can’t. Call me crazy for that, but I just call it being in love.
***
“Brendon,” Ryan whispered, shaking my body. I cracked an eye open and looked at Ryan’s worried face. “We need to leave,” he said and it was then that I had heard the noises outside. They were the same terrifying noises as when our convoy got bombed, but the sounds were still faint and quite far away from us. “Damn,” I muttered, immediately sitting up. We both sneaked out of the barn and started running. Yes, running. We wanted to get away as far from the fights as possible. The images of dead, rotten bodies had flashed in front of my eyelids again, only causing me to run faster. I didn’t want to witness those things ever again.
“We need to take a rest for a while,” I panted and stopped running. My knee had healed, but if I would overburden it, it would have started to hurt. “My knee is hurting again,” I told Ryan and pulled him down with me, into a sitting position. I had tried to calm my breathing, but it hadn’t worked, I was too terrified to calm down. “Relax, Brendon,” Ryan shushed, laying an arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer. “Things will be fine, we’re still miles ahead of them,” he said and kissed my cheek. I knew it was true, but I couldn’t help being scared to death. “Never, ever leave me,” I whispered, small tears standing in my eyes. I don’t know what I would’ve done without that man. Not only was he my lover, but he had also been my strength and hope to get through that war. “I won’t, Brendon,” Ryan smiled and attached his lips to mine for a soft, loving kiss. I have always loved Ryan’s lips. They’re so soft and the way they fit against mine, it almost looks like they were made for kissing me. Or mine were made to kiss his, you choose.
“Wer sind ihr?” a voice spoke. A jolt of fear had shot up my spine and my body completely stiffened, my lips still pressed against Ryan’s. Ryan pulled away and we both turned our heads towards the German soldier. The gun he was carrying, was pointing down at the ground and not at us which had made me sigh in relief. “Wer sind ihr?” he repeated. “We d-don’t u-understand,” Ryan stuttered, his eyes wide and full of fright. “Englisch?” he asked. Ryan and I both nodded in response. “Yes, English,” Ryan answered, still looking up at the man. “Erhebe sich!” the soldier said, but again, we didn’t understand him, so we just stared up at him. “Stand!” he ordered with a thick German accent. “Jetzt!” he yelled and we immediately did as we were told. “When I say now, we run,” I whispered loud enough for Ryan to hear, but not too loud so the soldier wouldn’t hear me. The soldier took a step closer to us and gave us a dirty look. I could smell his bad breath and no matter how hard I had tried, I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at him. I took a deep breath and reached out for Ryan’s hand. “NOW!” I yelled and Ryan and I had both started running.
“Halt!” the soldier yelled at us. We ran as fast as we could, our hands clutching each other. We had to run away. If we wouldn’t have ran, I’m sure we would’ve been taken to a concentration camp. He had seen us kissing, so he knew how we were. Back then, I didn’t know a lot about the concentration camps or what happened there, because the Axis did their best to hide the fact that there were camps like that. But what I did know was that Jews, gypsies and homosexuals were sent there and they were most likely to never return again. I hadn’t wanted them to send Ryan to one of those camps. I hadn’t wanted him to suffer.
I looked over my shoulder and saw that the soldier was running after us. But we were faster. He had stopped running and aimed his gun at us. He shot a few times and after the fourth shot, I heard a loud, pain-filled scream coming from Ryan. He had been hit in the shoulder. “Ryan!” I screamed, letting go of his hand and wrapping my arm around his waist. “It’s fine, keep on running,” he said, his voice filled with agony. I looked over my shoulder once more and the soldier had still been standing still, probably hoping that we would’ve stopped running after he had hit Ryan. We ran for ten more minutes, until we had reached a small town and the soldier was completely out of sight.
“Ryan,” I breathed as we stopped running. I looked at him and saw the ruby red spot on the left sleeve of his sweater. “You’re loosing blood,” I muttered, ripping off the sleeve. “We need to find a doctor,” I said, tightly binding the piece of cloth around his arm to try to stop the bleeding, or at least lessen it. We started walking through the town, me supporting Ryan’s body. He got weaker and weaker by the second now and I thought I could have broken down any moment, but I wouldn’t let myself, because if I did, I would’ve lost him.
“Come on, Ryan, stay awake,” I said as we were making our way to the town centre. “Please, Ryan, keep those honey-brown eyes opened for me. They’re so beautiful,” I told him in despair. I spotted a lot of people outside of the town’s church, so I guessed that the church was being used as a centre for fugitives. I dragged Ryan inside the church and desperately searched for someone who could help me. But the only people I saw were mothers with their children, who had fled from their homes, trying to escape from the war. “Somebody please help!” I screeched loudly, tears standing in my eyes. “Help!” I yelled, looking around me. A man, completely dressed in black made his way towards us. “Quesqu’ il y a?” he spoke. “Help,” I begged, pointing at Ryan’s arm. “He’s been shot,” I said, still pointing at the wound. “Please help him,” I pleaded and the man in front of me nodded, looking at Ryan’s arm. He made a move with his hand, indicating me to follow him.
“Brendon?” Ryan spoke with a weak voice. “Shhht,” I whispered, caressing his hair. “Everything is going to be fine. Someone’s going to help you. Don’t speak too much, save your strength,” I told him, trying to convince myself as much as I had wanted to convince him. I couldn’t have lost him, he was my everything. “I love you, Brendon,” he whispered and then he went limp in my arms.
Ryan and I travelled for a long time, following the coastline. We tried to hide ourselves as good as possible. During the night, we slept in houses that were abandoned by people who had fled for the war and in haylofts from farms, but most of the time, we had to sleep under the night sky. We had one blanket, that we had taken from one of the houses we slept in one night and since it was still March or April, we had lost track of time, the nights were pretty chilly. Luckily we still had each other to stay warm.
“Good night,” Ryan whispered, pressing his lips against mine for a small goodnight kiss. “Good night,” I replied, after pulling back. That night, we had been lucky; we had found a farm and had sneaked into the barn. There were still people living in the farmhouse, so we had to be careful and not show ourselves to them.
I closed my eyes, holding Ryan close to my body, not only for the warmth he gave me, but more to feel him and smell him. Even though it had been a while since he -or I- last touched a bar of soap, I could still smell that typical Ryan-smell of his. It was a smell I had grown accustomed to and couldn’t have missed for the world.
It didn’t take long until I heard the familiar little snores escaping from Ryan’s mouth. I could never fall asleep before hearing those snores; nowadays, I still can’t. Call me crazy for that, but I just call it being in love.
***
“Brendon,” Ryan whispered, shaking my body. I cracked an eye open and looked at Ryan’s worried face. “We need to leave,” he said and it was then that I had heard the noises outside. They were the same terrifying noises as when our convoy got bombed, but the sounds were still faint and quite far away from us. “Damn,” I muttered, immediately sitting up. We both sneaked out of the barn and started running. Yes, running. We wanted to get away as far from the fights as possible. The images of dead, rotten bodies had flashed in front of my eyelids again, only causing me to run faster. I didn’t want to witness those things ever again.
“We need to take a rest for a while,” I panted and stopped running. My knee had healed, but if I would overburden it, it would have started to hurt. “My knee is hurting again,” I told Ryan and pulled him down with me, into a sitting position. I had tried to calm my breathing, but it hadn’t worked, I was too terrified to calm down. “Relax, Brendon,” Ryan shushed, laying an arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer. “Things will be fine, we’re still miles ahead of them,” he said and kissed my cheek. I knew it was true, but I couldn’t help being scared to death. “Never, ever leave me,” I whispered, small tears standing in my eyes. I don’t know what I would’ve done without that man. Not only was he my lover, but he had also been my strength and hope to get through that war. “I won’t, Brendon,” Ryan smiled and attached his lips to mine for a soft, loving kiss. I have always loved Ryan’s lips. They’re so soft and the way they fit against mine, it almost looks like they were made for kissing me. Or mine were made to kiss his, you choose.
“Wer sind ihr?” a voice spoke. A jolt of fear had shot up my spine and my body completely stiffened, my lips still pressed against Ryan’s. Ryan pulled away and we both turned our heads towards the German soldier. The gun he was carrying, was pointing down at the ground and not at us which had made me sigh in relief. “Wer sind ihr?” he repeated. “We d-don’t u-understand,” Ryan stuttered, his eyes wide and full of fright. “Englisch?” he asked. Ryan and I both nodded in response. “Yes, English,” Ryan answered, still looking up at the man. “Erhebe sich!” the soldier said, but again, we didn’t understand him, so we just stared up at him. “Stand!” he ordered with a thick German accent. “Jetzt!” he yelled and we immediately did as we were told. “When I say now, we run,” I whispered loud enough for Ryan to hear, but not too loud so the soldier wouldn’t hear me. The soldier took a step closer to us and gave us a dirty look. I could smell his bad breath and no matter how hard I had tried, I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at him. I took a deep breath and reached out for Ryan’s hand. “NOW!” I yelled and Ryan and I had both started running.
“Halt!” the soldier yelled at us. We ran as fast as we could, our hands clutching each other. We had to run away. If we wouldn’t have ran, I’m sure we would’ve been taken to a concentration camp. He had seen us kissing, so he knew how we were. Back then, I didn’t know a lot about the concentration camps or what happened there, because the Axis did their best to hide the fact that there were camps like that. But what I did know was that Jews, gypsies and homosexuals were sent there and they were most likely to never return again. I hadn’t wanted them to send Ryan to one of those camps. I hadn’t wanted him to suffer.
I looked over my shoulder and saw that the soldier was running after us. But we were faster. He had stopped running and aimed his gun at us. He shot a few times and after the fourth shot, I heard a loud, pain-filled scream coming from Ryan. He had been hit in the shoulder. “Ryan!” I screamed, letting go of his hand and wrapping my arm around his waist. “It’s fine, keep on running,” he said, his voice filled with agony. I looked over my shoulder once more and the soldier had still been standing still, probably hoping that we would’ve stopped running after he had hit Ryan. We ran for ten more minutes, until we had reached a small town and the soldier was completely out of sight.
“Ryan,” I breathed as we stopped running. I looked at him and saw the ruby red spot on the left sleeve of his sweater. “You’re loosing blood,” I muttered, ripping off the sleeve. “We need to find a doctor,” I said, tightly binding the piece of cloth around his arm to try to stop the bleeding, or at least lessen it. We started walking through the town, me supporting Ryan’s body. He got weaker and weaker by the second now and I thought I could have broken down any moment, but I wouldn’t let myself, because if I did, I would’ve lost him.
“Come on, Ryan, stay awake,” I said as we were making our way to the town centre. “Please, Ryan, keep those honey-brown eyes opened for me. They’re so beautiful,” I told him in despair. I spotted a lot of people outside of the town’s church, so I guessed that the church was being used as a centre for fugitives. I dragged Ryan inside the church and desperately searched for someone who could help me. But the only people I saw were mothers with their children, who had fled from their homes, trying to escape from the war. “Somebody please help!” I screeched loudly, tears standing in my eyes. “Help!” I yelled, looking around me. A man, completely dressed in black made his way towards us. “Quesqu’ il y a?” he spoke. “Help,” I begged, pointing at Ryan’s arm. “He’s been shot,” I said, still pointing at the wound. “Please help him,” I pleaded and the man in front of me nodded, looking at Ryan’s arm. He made a move with his hand, indicating me to follow him.
“Brendon?” Ryan spoke with a weak voice. “Shhht,” I whispered, caressing his hair. “Everything is going to be fine. Someone’s going to help you. Don’t speak too much, save your strength,” I told him, trying to convince myself as much as I had wanted to convince him. I couldn’t have lost him, he was my everything. “I love you, Brendon,” he whispered and then he went limp in my arms.