Only in My Nightmares

"Hast Du etwas Zeit für mich
Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich
Von 99 Luftballons
Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont."

"You and I in a little toy shop
Buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got.
Set them free at the break of dawn
'Til one by one, they were gone."

-Nena, 99 Luftballons (99 Red Balloons)

“Hast Du etwas Zeit für mich / Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich / Von 99 Luftballons/ Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont/” Katrin hummed as she ambled down the streets.
Her heels slapped on the sidewalk and the scent of pastry filled the air.
She pushed through the crowd and threw her empty coffee cup away, then adjusted the strap of her purse.
Katrin strutted across the street, pretending it was a runway. Her legs felt a million miles long in her dress, but the October air was chilly.
She flicked her long hair back with her newly manicured nails. It had been nearly a month since she learned Radio City would be going to America. It took a lot of planning, but in two days she’d be leaving for New York, and Katrin had always wanted to go to the city that never slept. She couldn’t be more excited, really, but going posed a lot of problems.
The first, most stressful, was her grandfather, her Opa. He had raised her since she was four years old. Her Oma died when she was six, so it was just her and her grandfather. She loved it – her fondest memories were him making pancakes every Sunday before Church (which was painfully long, especially for a seven year old). But as the years progressed, dementia started to set in. It started with small things. He forgot the day, or the fact he had to take Katrin to school. Katrin started to take care of him more than he took care of her. And when she was eighteen, she put him in a nursing home. And it was possibly the hardest thing she ever had to do.
Going to America left him all alone and her with a guilty conscience. How could she leave him on another continent, across an ocean? He was the only family she had, and she was all he had.
But it was her dream. And if he had been in his right mind, he would’ve wanted her to go.
And the second problem? She hardly knew English. Katrin had been taking classes for six years, and she never retained any of the information. She was terrible at English, and the guys made fun of her for it – constantly.
“Herr Snider?” She called into the intercom, “It’s Katrin. I’m here.”
“Katrin,” exclaimed her favorite bumbling old man, “come in!”
She heard the familiar click and strode into the apartment building.
She reached his door and opened it. “Herr Snider?”
“I’m in the kitchen!”
She rounded the corner and sat at the tacky, fake wood counter. There he was, Herr Snider, making something that vaguely resembled an omelet. He pulled the yellow mess out of the pan and slid it into the trash. She grinned. He was a terrible cook.
He dusted off his hands and gestured to the living room. She sat down on the chair opposite him.
“Katrin, it’s so great to see you. But why are you here? Are there any songs you’d like me to translate?”
She rolled her eyes, “Can’t I stop by just to say hi?”
“Well, no.”
“Well, I wanted you to know: I’m going to America!”
She expected a hug. An exclamation of surprise. Anything. But he just chuckled and raised an eyebrow.
Her mouth opened, “Come on! I’m going on tour with Tokio Hotel! Be excited!”
“All I have to say is: Good Luck.”
Katrin playfully glared at him.
Herr Snider was Katrin’s high school English teacher. He was her favorite teacher, although she hated English. School wasn’t her thing. Katrin just wasn’t intellectual, and the only one who understood was Herr Snider. She grew up in one of the worst parts of a big city. Everyone she knew was dirt poor, and it wasn’t like there was a particularly outstanding school system. Herr Snider believed in her, which was a refreshing change.
After she graduated, she hired her old English teacher to translate her songs from German to English.
“Okay, you know what – I’m sorry. I’m very excited for you. I’ll give you one more, quick lesson before you leave.”
Katrin grinned, “That sounds great.” It actually sounded terrible, but she aimed to please.
He went over some basic stuff, but she didn’t think it necessary. She knew: ‘Hello’, ‘Please’, ‘Thank You’, and ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ That was enough for her.
She tried to pay attention, she really did! But her mind kept straying back to Nena.
99 Jahre Krieg / Liessen keinen Platz fuer Sieger / Kriegsminister gibt es nicht mehr / Und auch keine Duesenflieger.
“And that should be enough. At least you’ll have Robert.” Robert spoke four languages other than German, including English.”
He escorted her to the door and gave her a farewell hug.
“You’ll be great. I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you, so much. I’ll get you a souvenir!”
“Alright, have fun. But not too much fun.” He warned.
“Don’t worry.” She laughed. “Bye! Danke!” She called over her shoulder.
He walked over to the window and watched her blend into the busy street. He sighed and fogged up the glass.
“She’s screwed.”