Summary: It's been almost a year since Bruno died trying to save Shmuel from the Concentration Camp in the countryside. Gretel is now battling severe depression, guilt, and severe physical symptoms caused from the stress on a daily basis; their mother is depressed and aging quickly; and Ralf is guilty and dying inside. Will anybody help them? Is time healing their wounds? Will time ever heal their deep wounds?
A/N: This story is a The Boy in the Striped Pajamas fanfic. It features no slash, or incest, just family love, comfort, friendship, and romance in later chapters. Reviews with only constructive criticism and conventions/grammar tips. Thoughts, dreams, memories, and dialog are in italics.
Will Time Heal Our Wounds?
Chapter One: Morning Memories and Thoughts
The cheerful August sun pried Gretel's winter-grey eyes open, revealing the serenity of the Saturday morning before her. Gretel slowly levitated herself off of her 'overly-comfortable' mattress, rubbing her under rested eyes, and struggling to embrace the ideas of not sleeping longer.
"Ah, a fine day it'll be," Gretel yawned, her eyes attracted to the sun-bleached window- the sight of Berlin was captivating on a terrific, sunny morning.
Gretel peered into her illuminated bedroom one last time, before firmly closing the door. Gretel tiredly marched down the large, oak wainscoted corridor to reach the peak of the snaky stairs. Once at the edge, Gretel's thoughts drifted back to when she and her departed brother, Bruno raced down the stairs, a little over a year before.
The overactive, tiny nine-year-old boy charged to the stairs, where Gretel had slowly started walking. Bruno sheepishly patted his sister on the shoulder and she reluctantly swiveled around to face her brother.
"What do you want?" Gretel snapped, scowling down at her brother's innocent face.
"I bet you can't run down the stairs as fast as I can!" Bruno said, his sky-blue eyes demanding for a challenge.
"Oh, really? You don't think I can?" Gretel smirked.
"Want to race me?" Bruno asked.
"Well, might as well," Gretel replied, shrugging.
Gretel ran as quick as possible, but Bruno had reached the end of the stairs in a matter of seconds.
"Ha-ha, I told you that I was faster," Bruno mocked, giving his trademark smirk.
"Yeah, but that's only because you're on the run all of the time, brother dear." Gretel replied, for once smiling at her brother.
Memories like these made Gretel wish that she could live these mornings again, and have more fun times with her brother. With a sad smile, Gretel plodded on down the stairs, trying to push her depressed feelings away. At the bottom of the stairs, Gretel saw her mother and father coming to greet her, her tiny mother speeding past her father.
"Good morning, Gretel," Elsa greeted, her bone-thin arms wrapping around her short daughter's back.
"Good morning to you, mother," Gretel replied, leaning her tiny head against her mother's shoulder, and squeezing gently in return. When Gretel pulled back, she saw the weak gleam in her mother's icy-blue eyes, the grayer strands of hair in her black tufts, and the hesitant smile slowly creeping across her pale-pink lips. Gretel smiled in hesitation, embracing her mother's attempt at showing happiness. Gretel turned around, and slowly approached her father.
"Good morning, Gretel," Ralf greeted, skimming his large hand through Gretel's straw-colored hair. Gretel's eyes fixated on her father's weak smile, and on the few silver strands in his honey-brown hair. Gretel smiled at her father in return.
"Good morning, father," Gretel greeted, throwing her arms around the tall man's waist- despite he never hugged much. Ralf returned the affection, murmuring 'I love you' into his daughter's hair. Gretel beamed up at her father, who beamed in return.
"Gret, breakfast is made, dear," Elsa clarified.
"Thank you, mother," Gretel replied, forcing a smile at the thought of food. 'How can I eat when there is an empty spot at the table?' Gretel thought, looking down to the floor, never noticing how limp her nightgown fell around her emaciated body. How could one eat when the memory of their brother's death plagued their mind on a daily basis?
"Well, if breakfast is ready, let's go eat, then." Ralf stated, patting his flat stomach gently. "I'm starving."
With Ralf's statement about his hunger, the trio walked slowly to the leaf-green dining room to devour some breakfast. Ralf took two pieces of toast, two eggs, and two pieces of bacon, while Elsa and Gretel barely took half the amount of what he took. As the family sat at their mahogany table, Ralf and Elsa chatted on about finding work and local news from the newspaper. Gretel, however, sat and picked fussily at her food, her eyes fixating on the vacant spot at the table, which would have been occupied over a year ago. A few times, she carefully glanced at her mother and father, who kept rambling on about matters less important to her. Once Gretel ate all that she could, she stood up and dumped the rest of her food into the waste bin, and carefully sat the porcelain plate in the sink. Elsa spoke up when she noticed Gretel had left her spot.
"Gret, have you eaten all that you could possibly eat, dear?" Elsa asked carefully, a worried look upon her pale face. Ralf gave Gretel a worried expression, too.
"Yeah, mother, I'm fine," Gretel clarified, giving a wave of her arm. "Can I go get washed up?"
"Yes dear, you may," Elsa agreed. "I'll get Maria to do the dishes after father and I are done eating. Go on, dear, go get dressed now."
Gretel's thoughts switched to Maria as she walked down the narrow corridor to her bathroom.
Maria, the tall and thin maid still had resided with the family. After the loss of Bruno, she had stayed around to help the family with not only chores- but with moral support. The death of Bruno had plagued her memory too, for she had been used to the little charge, and she understood how the family had felt.
Once at the bathroom door, Gretel thought more in depth about the maid.
'Maria's been such a good help with us... I mean, she does far too much...' Gretel thought, a frown forming on her face. 'She didn't have to stay living with us, but she did anyway... Ugh... Can I please stop thinking, and get on with my day?'
Gretel opened the bathroom door tiredly, and took her time washing up and getting dressed, mostly because of her never-ending thoughts.