bombs falling from the sky
The sirens droned on. Down in the basement, hidden behind white sheets and empty paint cans, Max Vandenburg waited for fate. The Hubermann's basement, deemed utterly useless as a bomb shelter, now housed the stowaway Jew. As the candle light flickered, shadows sneaked around the walls; he was surrounded by words.
He felt the shatter of a window, the concaving of a house nearby. Inside, his bones rattled underneath his aging skin and he shuddered as the shaking of the ground intensified. He was all alone, scared and starved, abused by society and rescued by a charitable man.
Max couldn't take the waiting anymore. He could not still his jitters as the very world he lived in exploded. He could not bear the thought of never seeing the outside ever again. With great desperation, he pushed himself up, his arms struggling to bear the weight of bones. Clutching for holds along the walls, the condemned Jew slowly hoisted himself up the stairs and out of the basement. He staggered to the door.
With no hesitation he pushed gingerly and he was outside. The Jew could not hold back his delighted gasp as the air of the outside world filled his lungs, fresh and wonderful and dusty. He had not seen the outside for nearly 2 years. The world was on fire, bombs falling from the sky. He turned his dirty face up towards the sky as if to kiss the stars. They burnt alive in his eyes – his soul awakening for the first time since he'd been taken from his family.
They were breathtaking and he stared for what seemed like hours, even though it was only a mere few moments, his parted mouth drinking in the beauty. Mesmerized he collapsed against the dusty road, curling his legs up beneath him, the thud of bombs hitting their targets no longer registering in his ears.
Too soon, too fast the bombing was over. The raid was over. Soon people would be coming back to their homes from the community bomb shelter. He did not know how he felt, his emotions twisted and confused. His bones felt lighter, his spirit stronger. He dragged his eyes from the stars and back to the dark doorway leading to his home. He was torn, to stay out or go back in?
He watched the sun rise from the mouth of the doorway, and as the Himmel street residents began to arrive, he closed the door and disappeared down the basement steps.
It was an hour later before the Hubermann's appeared down the steps, calling out his name. He sat, back heavy against the rusty paint cans, his brain hammering in his skull, and he told them what he had done.
"How did it look?" Hans Hubermann asked, his voice soft and curious.
Max took a deep breath, "There were stars. They burned my eyes."
ok so i wrote this for a novel study we were doing in class based on the book the book thief. basically we had to write a creative writing piece so basically...fanfiction? NICE. i hope i did this right? whatever aint nobody got time for that