Disclaimer: I do not own Swing Kids. If I did, it would have had a happy ending with Peter and Thomas riding off into the sunset…or into Bismarck together.
As Peter turned to look at me while climbing aboard the truck that would send him to a work camp, I felt a pang of regret and I felt my heart break.
I knew I would never see him again and at that moment I regretted everything I had done. How could I have betrayed him? How could I have chosen to be something I hate? It was supposed be a simple and fun game. HJ by day and Swing Kid by night. Instead, I lost myself to filth, hate, and lies. Hate and propaganda had replaced the music I love and the friends I had. And because of that, I've lost the one person that means the most to me.
My best friend…my fellow Swing Kid…my secret love…Peter.
He was the one that made swinging so amazing. He was the beat to my music. He was the one person I could depend on. When we tried to steal that radio, he went along with it despite the possible, and unfortunately inevitable, consequences of that action. He was the one person who made each and every day brighter even though there were troubled times in Germany. He was my world. I love him.
That smirk he sent my way destroyed everything I believed in. He made me realize what an idiot I was for swallowing all the lies that the HJ fed us and now I realize that I've given up the person I once was to become a demon. The worst part about it is that I gave up on Peter. I gave up on the love of my life.
I can't put to words the way I feel towards him. Anytime I was around him, my blood ran hot and my heart beat wildly in my chest. I had to pretend to be nonchalant and hide my jealousy when he was dancing with someone else instead of with me.
Every time we would walk home after a night at the Bismarck, I would have to resist from pressing him up against a wall and kissing him.
It's ironic that the time I get to be pressed up against him is when I'm beating him with fists and with a baton.
Looking at him, sitting on that truck with blood running down his face, I regret not acting upon my feelings. Now I will never have a chance to tell him how I feel. I will never have another chance to even look at him again.
If I could turn back time, I would smack my past self and tell myself not to steal the radio. I would tell myself to act upon my feelings before it's too late. I would tell myself so many things and do so many things to change the future. If only. If only.
I bit back an angry and tormented scream for my lost love and for being this thing I am now. I could not tell Peter every little thing in that small precious time we had before the truck pulled away.
The only thing I could say as an apology, as a confession, as a sign of defeat was "Swing Heil".
I'm sorry, Peter. I'm sorry. I hope that deep down inside you know that. I hope that one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me.
Now, we must go our separate ways. I will continue to be an HJ kid because there is no breaking out of that. I must live and suffer knowing my betrayal of you and of everything I believed in.
And you, dear friend, will suffer but you will be free knowing you did the right thing. You stayed true to yourself, which is more than you'll ever need.
Goodbye, Peter. I will always think of you and you will always be in my heart.
Goodnight, my love.