NOTES: Hi guys! So here is another long Adommy FanFic :) A couple of days ago I thought about writing a FanFic where the action takes place in the past, during the Second World War actually. I live in Poland and during the war my country was annexed by Nazi Germany. Things I'm writing here actually happened. Not this actual story and definitely not with these characters, but just things like that. Everything is based on events from the past. And I find this topic interesting so I thought… why not, ya know? :) So here it is, the first chapter! Tell me what do you think! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Adam, Neil, Eber or Leila Lambert. I also do not own Tommy Joe or Dia Ratliff. I do not own any of Adam Lambert's, present or past, band members or dancers. I also do not own Sauli Koskinen or Sutan Amrull.
Adam's POV
I heard them. They were running up the stairs of the tenement house. Up to our small apartment. I knew that's it. That's the end. They're gonna take everything. Everything my family has. They pried the door open and stepped inside, breaking one of the framed family pictures that was placed on the nearby shelf. Glass shattered on the floor, making the noise even louder. They were screaming. I don't know what exactly. I was terrified. I knew things like that happen these days but I thought… I hoped… But now that's the end. They're gonna take everything. If I believed in God, I would pray, begging so they won't kill us. But I don't. If God exists, he wouldn't be letting this happen. None of this.
'You've got five minutes. Take what you need and leave this house. You can only take three things with you.' One of them said. He was German. Of course he was. Blond, short hair and cold, blue eyes. Aryan. Tall and proud. Unmerciful.
I haven't got much. We weren't rich. But this was my life. And they told me to take just three things. Three things from my whole life, from everything I've ever had.
'Go! And never come back. Your shop is taken too. Some worthy German family will take it.' He said after maybe two minutes. 'You. Yes, you, young man. You're gonna work in the shop every day, helping this family. For minimum wage, of course. People like you don't deserve more money. People like you don't deserve to live.' And with those words he closed the door, telling us to leave our home.
I still can't forget. It happened so fast. At the age of 19, I had no home, I was working in what used-to-be my family's shop for minimum wage, trying to earn enough money to make a living for my family: my Father, my Mother and my younger brother, Neil.
We moved to an old and incredibly small apartment on the third floor of some old tenement house. There was only one room, a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. Neil lived with my parents in the only room in the house, so I had to take the old wooden loft. It was cold as hell in there and the wood was mostly rotted. I was curious about when the roof will finally break and fall on my head. I had a bed here, well, more like a bunk actually, a desk and a chair, a small closet, some boxes filled with books and stuff like that and a small, old radio, which was the most important thing I had.
At the beginning, I hated working in the shop. Working for people who took my life, my house, my job. But it was hard to hate them. Two people: a woman who had lost her husband, and a boy, her son. Well, he was already a man actually, he was my age. But he was smaller and thinner, no way he could carry a gun. I don't know how the woman's husband died. Maybe he died killing Polish people. People like me. But the woman, Dia, was a nice person. She wasn't like them. She wasn't treating me like she was better than me. I just couldn't force myself to hate her. She was such a warm and calm person. But this guy… Her son… I hated him so much. I couldn't help it. He was the one who took my life away from me. Well, maybe not exactly this boy, but because of him they made me leave my home. He wasn't rude, he actually tried to be nice to me but I couldn't help hating on him. He deprived me of my life. And what frustrated me even more… I was kinda into him. Yes, I'm gay, and he's such a pretty elfish boy… Small, blond, with big brown eyes. Long bangs covering his face so he could hide behind it, the other side of his head shaved. Generous lips, so kissable… I'm lusting on the guy I hate so much. Great. Just amazing. His name is Tommy Joe. Tommy Joe Ratliff. And they took everything I had and gave it to him. They gave him all my life. Because he was better than me.
I shifted again in my bunk, covering myself tighter with a blanket, hoping this will be enough to keep me warm. Before I fell asleep, I heard one sentence in my mind. One that I hear every night.
People like you don't deserve to live.
NOTES: So here's the first chapter. I want you to know that I'm not trying to offend Germany or German people in any way. This is just a chapter from the history of my country, I don't have anything against Germany. :) So, please, request! :) Love you, guys! And a huge thank you to my amazing Beta Reader, Josie!