Too Young to Live a Lie, Look Into My Eyes
One
We ran through the streets of Leipzig, and I could hear him behind me; laughter ripped from our lungs and mouths as we gasped for air. Neither of us slowed: we were too intent on being teenagers. Careless. Worry-free. Alive.
Sixteen-years-old, and still playing hide-and-go-seek-tag, leading and following each other down the roads of our hometown. The city lights were luminous, giving a shred of hope against the impending night. I sensed his proximity before I saw him from the corner of my eye. He grinned and reached for my arm, but I sped ahead of him.
Finally, we collapsed in a field on the edge of town and struggled to catch our breath. I rested my head in his lap once I had lain down, and he pushed the black hair from my face. His chocolate eyes gazed into mine, and I suddenly realised…
This is all a dream.
________________________________
“Rise zu Ihren Füßen.”
I stood along with the rest of my class, and we all stayed at attention. Our uniforms were all identical, and we had no individual identity. Just pathetic names by which we were called: lazy, useless, pigs, and even more horrible things, too harsh for anyone to hear or repeat. We had learned to all stop when an instructor shouted “ Beenden Sie zu Fuß.!” and wait for the surely-poisonous insult. We dragged our feet, and our spirits sank lower than we had ever known.
“ Sie weiblich! Tuck in diesem Hemd. Reinigen Sie die Schuhe. Beenden Sie reden. Wir brauchen ein Mediziner hier.”
Suddenly, the man pounced on the whispering young man, beating him as violently as possible. We were to not have emotions, but I could hardly keep the pain and tears from my eyes.
“Sie, ihn bis jetzt sauber.“
I hurried forward and bit back a gasp. The boy’s face was bloody and swollen, but his eyes were still bright; his lips continued to move.
“Sie werden in Schwierigkeiten geraten,” I murmured quietly with as little movement of my mouth as possible.
“Dabei spielt es keine Rolle. Lassen sie mich bestrafen.”
“Nicht sprechen! Sind Sie fertig?”
“Fast, Sir.”
“Holen Sie sich bewegen!”
He kicked me in the side with his heavy boot, but I clenched my teeth and continued wiping blood off of the boy’s cheeks. His brown eyes closed as I touched the soft skin; images of my dream flashed through my mind, but they were so far away. They were free, while I was imprisoned in a grey Hell.
Days passed, turned into months, weeks, and by that time, I had learned what the boy had been singing on that fateful day. He never spoke to me again after I had cleaned up his face, but I could hear the song in my heart regardless. He did look at me, however, and it gave me hope and courage.
One evening, we passed each other at dinner, and I gave a nearly-imperceptible nod. We knew. It was long past time. Once I was in my bunk alone, I pulled, from the inside of my boot, a charm that my parents had given me when I was three. I could see their smiling faces, and the urge to see them again, grew stronger.
The guards pounded on the door, and I scurried under the thin blankets. They peered in and gazed at me. I heard their comments, and one stepped into the room. I cursed to myself when I realised I had left my pendant on the floor. Thankfully, he ignored it. I let my body become deadweight as he did what the others did every night: he covered my body with his, and I closed my mind and the open door to my emotions.
They left not too long after, and I shoved the blankets from me. They smelled like him. I grabbed the lamb charm and dropped it into my boot before I slipped the pair of thick black shoes on. Spotlights were everywhere, dancing along the dirty pavement, ready to find anyone. I stayed close to the buildings and inched my way past the barracks. A hand clasped onto my grey-covered arm, and I stifled a scream when I realised who it was.
“ Folgen Sie mir. Wir dürfen nicht gesehen werden.”
I nodded, and we waited until a large circle of light darted away before we left the safety of the shadows. Sirens went off to warn the guards about our escape, and we sped up. Once we got to the perimeter of the compound, we ran through the gate; the wind already felt different, alive.
We ran through the streets of Leipzig, and I could hear him behind me; laughter ripped from our lungs and mouths as we gasped for air. Neither of us slowed: we were too intent on finally being teenagers. Careless. Worry-free. Alive.
Sixteen-years-old, and already escaping from our hell, leading and following each other down the roads of our hometown. The city lights were luminous, giving a shred of hope against the impending night. I sensed his proximity before I saw him from the corner of my eye. He grinned and reached for my arm, but I sped ahead of him.
Finally, we collapsed in a field on the edge of town and struggled to catch our breath. I rested my head in his lap once I had lain down, and he pushed the black hair from my face. His chocolate eyes gazed into mine, and I suddenly realised…
This is all a reality.
Sixteen-years-old, and still playing hide-and-go-seek-tag, leading and following each other down the roads of our hometown. The city lights were luminous, giving a shred of hope against the impending night. I sensed his proximity before I saw him from the corner of my eye. He grinned and reached for my arm, but I sped ahead of him.
Finally, we collapsed in a field on the edge of town and struggled to catch our breath. I rested my head in his lap once I had lain down, and he pushed the black hair from my face. His chocolate eyes gazed into mine, and I suddenly realised…
This is all a dream.
________________________________
“Rise zu Ihren Füßen.”
I stood along with the rest of my class, and we all stayed at attention. Our uniforms were all identical, and we had no individual identity. Just pathetic names by which we were called: lazy, useless, pigs, and even more horrible things, too harsh for anyone to hear or repeat. We had learned to all stop when an instructor shouted “ Beenden Sie zu Fuß.!” and wait for the surely-poisonous insult. We dragged our feet, and our spirits sank lower than we had ever known.
“ Sie weiblich! Tuck in diesem Hemd. Reinigen Sie die Schuhe. Beenden Sie reden. Wir brauchen ein Mediziner hier.”
Suddenly, the man pounced on the whispering young man, beating him as violently as possible. We were to not have emotions, but I could hardly keep the pain and tears from my eyes.
“Sie, ihn bis jetzt sauber.“
I hurried forward and bit back a gasp. The boy’s face was bloody and swollen, but his eyes were still bright; his lips continued to move.
“Sie werden in Schwierigkeiten geraten,” I murmured quietly with as little movement of my mouth as possible.
“Dabei spielt es keine Rolle. Lassen sie mich bestrafen.”
“Nicht sprechen! Sind Sie fertig?”
“Fast, Sir.”
“Holen Sie sich bewegen!”
He kicked me in the side with his heavy boot, but I clenched my teeth and continued wiping blood off of the boy’s cheeks. His brown eyes closed as I touched the soft skin; images of my dream flashed through my mind, but they were so far away. They were free, while I was imprisoned in a grey Hell.
Days passed, turned into months, weeks, and by that time, I had learned what the boy had been singing on that fateful day. He never spoke to me again after I had cleaned up his face, but I could hear the song in my heart regardless. He did look at me, however, and it gave me hope and courage.
One evening, we passed each other at dinner, and I gave a nearly-imperceptible nod. We knew. It was long past time. Once I was in my bunk alone, I pulled, from the inside of my boot, a charm that my parents had given me when I was three. I could see their smiling faces, and the urge to see them again, grew stronger.
The guards pounded on the door, and I scurried under the thin blankets. They peered in and gazed at me. I heard their comments, and one stepped into the room. I cursed to myself when I realised I had left my pendant on the floor. Thankfully, he ignored it. I let my body become deadweight as he did what the others did every night: he covered my body with his, and I closed my mind and the open door to my emotions.
They left not too long after, and I shoved the blankets from me. They smelled like him. I grabbed the lamb charm and dropped it into my boot before I slipped the pair of thick black shoes on. Spotlights were everywhere, dancing along the dirty pavement, ready to find anyone. I stayed close to the buildings and inched my way past the barracks. A hand clasped onto my grey-covered arm, and I stifled a scream when I realised who it was.
“ Folgen Sie mir. Wir dürfen nicht gesehen werden.”
I nodded, and we waited until a large circle of light darted away before we left the safety of the shadows. Sirens went off to warn the guards about our escape, and we sped up. Once we got to the perimeter of the compound, we ran through the gate; the wind already felt different, alive.
We ran through the streets of Leipzig, and I could hear him behind me; laughter ripped from our lungs and mouths as we gasped for air. Neither of us slowed: we were too intent on finally being teenagers. Careless. Worry-free. Alive.
Sixteen-years-old, and already escaping from our hell, leading and following each other down the roads of our hometown. The city lights were luminous, giving a shred of hope against the impending night. I sensed his proximity before I saw him from the corner of my eye. He grinned and reached for my arm, but I sped ahead of him.
Finally, we collapsed in a field on the edge of town and struggled to catch our breath. I rested my head in his lap once I had lain down, and he pushed the black hair from my face. His chocolate eyes gazed into mine, and I suddenly realised…
This is all a reality.