Ok, so this story is a bit different.
I hope you like it anyways, and please, if there are any Jewish people reading this, don't be offended by anything in this story, it's just me and my tiny,
tiny knowledge of history, and especially not by Troy's P.O.V.
Read on, and don't forget to review!
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Twenty year old Troy Bolton grinned and clinked mugs with his 'colleagues'.
He lifted his cup to his face, and drank in the cold liquid, enjoying the pleasant feel of it trickling down his dry throat.
The camp fire illuminated the faces of everyone bunched around it and sparks flew up in the air, almost seeming to dance as if it too was celebrating their success.
They'd captured forty-five of the disgusting pieces of filth today alone, and the captain was very pleased with them
"Keep going like this, and Sir Hitler himself might request to see you!" He'd chuckled.
Troy drained the alcohol, and got up.
"I'm gunna bunk off now..."
A half pissed Chad ruffled his hair and smirked at him, "Need to get our beauty rest don't we Bolton."
Troy rolled his eyes, and smacked Chad's hand away.
"Not as much as you Danforth."
Roars of drunken laughter followed him as Troy jogged up to his tent.
A few metres from his destination he started walking, and suddenly froze as he saw a silhouette against the thin clothe.
There was someone inside.
He drew out his gun protectively and advanced forward.
An audible crack rang out through the thin mountain air as he stepped on a stick.
Troy froze.
Crap!
The person's head whipped in his direction, and before he could move a muscle, they ran out of the tent and towards the surrounding woods, a mass of brown curls streaming behind them.
He stared in shock.
Who was that...!??
He sprinted into the tent and looked around.
Nothing was out of place; it seemed to be exactly how he'd left it.
Troy shook his head, and smiled to himself wryly.
Am I really THAT sleepy...?
He shrugged into the sleeping bag, and blew out the small candle on the floor.
It was too late to ponder about possible threats.
No one would dare cross the Nazi's.
Let the disgusting Jews worry about threats...
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The brunette hid behind the leaves of the massive tree.
The shut her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.
That was close.
Too close.
She snatched a bit of rope lying nearby, and tied up her fly away hair.
It was caked with mud, filled with leaves and other debris, but then again, so was the rest of her body.
As she examined her lightly toned skin for any other out of place bits, she spied a deep scarlet shape on her skin.
A small, but nonetheless visible star, scalded onto her skin on imprisonment to ensure that if she ever escaped, she'd be re-captured.
She could still remember the un-bearable stinging pain of the hot metal as it touched her skin, feel the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.
She breathed in deeply, and tried to clear her mind.
"You made it." A rough voice growled, making her jump.
"Damnit Salim, don't do that!"
She smacked her older cousin over the head, and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, hugged him in relief
"Yeah, I made it."
He smirked at her, and quickly handed her some papers.
She stared up at him in surprise, "Are these real--"
"Fake." He corrected her, "But it should fool the Nazi's if they ever call around."
The brunette grinned, "Thank you so mu--"
"Shut up!" Salim hissed, his eyes wide open in obvious fear.
He grabbed her head and forced her to duck down as a thin beam of light roamed around them.
"Who's there!" a gruff voice called out, slicing through the silent air.
She shivered, and prayed silently that they wouldn't be found.
The guard eventually walked away, and she sighed in relief as his footsteps slowly retreated into nothingness.
Salim glared at her, and muttered three words before sprinting off, leaving her alone, fragile, in the cold night.
"Be Careful Gabriella."
A/N: The scalding a star onto the skin thing is something I just made up.
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Yumii xx