Ultimatum

"Daniela," she heard her brother's voice call to her.

Daniela hadn't moved since they placed her back in her cell five days ago; her body was in too much pain for her to move.

She turned her head to face the bars of her cell, only to see her brother and sunlight streaming through the small windows sporadically placed throughout the cells.

"Derrick," she spoke, her voice faded and tired. She hadn't used it in a while.

"How are you?" he asked, kneeling down to her level and gripping onto the smooth metal bars for balance.

Daniela lowered her head to the ground, her voice dull. "Spare me the idle chitchat."

She stared into her brother's pale blue eyes, the same as her own and saw a deep coldness in them that Daniela knew would never fade. There was a moment of silence as Derrick stared at her disfigured back, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

"It didn't have to be like this, sister," he said, feigning a tender tone.

Daniela huffed, feeling hatred course through her veins as she lay pathetically on the damp dirt floor of her new home. "I am no sister of yours."

There was another frustrated silence between them before Daniela looked harshly at Derrick and spoke: "Why have you come here?"

"To tell you that you'll soon be leaving this place," Derrick commented, letting his eyes travel around Daniela's cell and then focusing again on her.

"What does that even mean?" Daniela felt the familiar flutter of terror in her heart as she asked this.

Derrick smirked. "Landa has put in a request to send you to Auschwitz. He's waiting for your acceptance letter."

Daniela's breathe caught in her throat and she felt as if the room was caving in on her. Landa wanted to send her to a camp? No non-Jewish German had ever been submitted to that kind of torture before; a camp wasn't even considered when Stiglitz was caught for murdering all of those Gestapo officers.

"But I have been sent here for a reason, dear sister."

Daniela searched his face, not knowing what to expect to hear next.

"Landa said that he will nix the idea of Auschwitz if you decide to repent your sins against Germany and the Fuehrer and join us in reaching our country's true destiny," Derrick said.

Daniela stared hard at her brother. "You're giving me an ultimatum?"

Derrick nodded.

"I'd rather die in a camp," Daniela told him.

"Fine, Daniela." Derrick muttered, "I knew you were proud, but I didn't think you were stupid."

"Go away, Derrick," she whispered and turned her head away from him.

Daniela curled herself into a tiny ball after she heard her brother's footsteps disappear down the hallway. She sobbed silently for hours, watching as the sun slowly set through the tiny window of her cell and realized that her days were numbered.

Four days passed since Daniela was visited by her brother, and the fear she felt then had yet to leave her. Every footstep and every harsh voice she heard felt like a death sentence.

Daniela could tell by the shadows around the jail that it was early in the morning, too early for anyone to be awake; even the night watchman was still propped up against the wall--rifle still in his arms--breathing deeply.

She ran her finger through the loose dirt and made another tally against the floor; this mark made nine. She had spent nine days here without food, without water and without medical attention.

The deep wounds on her back throbbed and burned worse than when she first received them. Daniela wasn't daft; she knew that infection was beginning to set in. She knew it would happen sooner or later; there was little one could do with wounds as severe as hers to fight off infection.

Daniela noticed that the dirt floor had steadily grown colder as the days worn on; the earth was finally giving into the early November weather. A shiver made its way from her head to her toes and she turned on her side, bringing her legs in toward her body and wrapped her arms tightly around her naked chest.

The next three hours passed and Daniela could not think of a time she had been this cold before; she couldn't feel her toes and her back was now a combination of sensations: burning from her wounds and the cold that shot shivered up her spine.

She began shaking uncontrollably, but even the convulsive shivers wouldn't bring her warmth. Daniela soon felt a hard knot build up in her chest. She began sputtering, attempting to rid herself of the knot.

It just continued to grow, sending her into coughing fits. The well-known feeling of panic filled her as she thought she wouldn't be able to catch her breath.

She noticed that the guard had been startled awake by her noises.

"Can you get a doctor, please?" she asked, between sharp coughs.

Both her and the guard looked to see blood in her palm. "I-um, I'm sorry but I don't think they would help you," he muttered awkwardly. Daniela could see his shadow masking her as he leaned closer to the bars.

She remembered there was one friendly doctor that lived on the military base, his name was Dr. Schreiber. "Get Dr. Schreiber!" Daniela called out weakly.

She doubled over, clutching her stomach, absentmindedly smearing the blood in her hand all over her abdomen; the same spasms were now happening here as well as in her lungs.

"GO!" she yelled, crushing her head against the floor, squeezing her eyes closed. Daniela could hear the guard's gun clatter to the ground as he sprinted away, hopefully in search of a doctor.

She tried inhaling deeply but it only caused her lungs to tighten and another coughing fit to begin. Daniela could hear the guard yelling loudly from outside but soon had slipped into darkness.