My dad just sat and cried. He cried for three whole days. His face was blotchy and his eyes were red. Then one day he just stopped. He became completely withdrawn from the world. I was worried for him, and so was everyone else, but I think we all knew that after what happened, he had no will to live. I suppose it looked bad for him to be swallowed by grief, for he had the rest of his family to comfort, as it had been hard on us too. Even with all of that, no one could blame him though, he'd lost the person closest to him. It seems that must be the worst pain imaginable.
His health declined so quickly, "Died of a broken heart" everyone said. I don't know if that's true, but I know that either way, he's certainly happier now.
War. That is what I grew up with, a world full of violence and hatred. I hated violence, it took away all the happiness and joy in life, but I grew up in the mindset willing to do anything for my country. My childhood was full of dreams of turning eighteen and being able to fight for my country, although I believe that was every boy's dream then. I didn't think of it then but now that I look back on the time I find it sad that even when I was that young I knew that the war would continue for that long.
The war was huge. A never ending horror that had been brewing for a very long time. It was an incomprehensible subject for me when I was so young. Of course my understanding of it wasn't necessary, just the willingness to take action in the conflict. And really, who actually knows why we were fighting each other, harming others, killing innocent civilians, and other things the government never really talked much of, just because we didn't all agree. I don't think anyone had a good answer to that.
"Papa!" I called out desperately. My eyes were wide with fear, and an equal mixture of confusion. "What is it Ludwig?" He called back quickly, followed by his footsteps on the wooden floor. The door creaked as he opened it, "Why are you out here without a jacket?" He asked with a light chuckle. I wandered outside a lot, and was notorious for not bothering to wear a jacket, even on the coldest of days. His calm attitude had momentarily made my fear leave, but as he noticed the soldiers coming towards our house his calm attitude disappeared. His expression had become worried "Ludwig go inside" He instructed nervously. "Papa, what's-" He cut me off by opening the door and giving me nudge towards the door. "Go inside" he repeated, this time he was more careful not to let his worry leak into his voice. I obliged by walking inside hesitantly.
As soon as he closed the door, I assumed a spot by the window, and looked out through the curtain, careful not to be seen. I stared out in alarm. I didn't understand what was happening. I watched the soldiers approach our house in an unfaltering, steady, pace. I aspired to be like them, but held a fear of them. A 'healthy' respect.
By the time the soldiers finally reached our house I was shaking in apprehension. What were they here for? Had something happened? Was something bad about to happen? A thousand questions flooded through my head, all at one. I began to consider leaving the window to go into the bedroom I shared with my brother, it had gotten boring just watching my father just talking to the soldiers, but my interest went right back to watching them as my father began to desperately yell at them.
I couldn't tell what exactly what he was saying, but 'No' and 'it's not possibly necessary', were sorrowfully said in the mixture of shouting. The shouting had gotten my brothers attention, I noticed, as he walked out of our room. He looked out the window and a dark expression appeared on his face. "Älterer Bruder! What is happening?" I asked looking up at him. He sighed. "Ludwig go in our room for a minute" I remember thinking he sounded really weird, mellow and lifeless, dreading what was about to happen. I wasn't aware then, but he had a good idea of what was happening.
I wasn't happy being ordered around now, especially when so much was happening "Gilbert why?!" I whined out, I glared at him irritably. "Ludwig just go!" I just continued to look at him with a stubborn glare . He bent down and gave me a hug which I quickly began to push him away from. I was so confused. Hugs? Why was he hugging me? "Tschüss" he offered the small good bye and stood up. My eyes widened, why was he saying good bye? I watched at him walk outside, outside with Papa and the soldiers.
I once more was staring out the window. My fathers face had went white when he saw my brother. "Gilbert!" he shouted, the worry flooded his voice. "Go back inside,now!" he shouted to him. "We both knew it was going to happen!" Gilbert replied, ignoring my fathers orders to go back inside. Instead he stepped a bit more outside. The soldiers now began to talk. The way they spoke sounded like it was being read in an awful monotone. I couldn't understand any of it, it was so complicated sounding. They continued to explained how he was to 'serve the country'. It was then that I understood.
I ran to the door, throwing it open. I grabbed onto my brother, holding onto him fiercely. "No!" I sobbed out. "Please! No! Don't take my brother!" I cried out, looking at the soldiers hopelessly. They looked at the scene before them dully. They didn't care, I could see in their eyes how little they cared. "Your attendance is needed promptly" they continued, indifferent to my presence. Everything was a blur of tears and pleading to no avail. "Ludwig" the sound of my name caught my attention. "Let go" Gilbert removed me from his side. "But...But Gilbert. They can't! They can't take you away!" I cried out. "Ludwig that's the way it is!" he replied. "Well then 'the way it is' isn't right!This isn't right! They can't do this!" I screamed out. I didn't care what I was saying. "Ludwig stop! You're making a bad example of our family!" My father ordered. I stopped, and looked up at the soldiers sadly. "But...They can't..." They did.
Authors Note: Oh god. What is it?! I don't know. This is kind of short, sorry, I didn't know what else to put, and this seemed like a pretty good part to end this chapter with.^w^ The title "Bin ich noch am Leben?" translates to 'am I still alive'. I used random German in this, just to give it that sort of feel, as it is set in Germany. I am not sure if this is going to be set in world war two, or not, I didn't really plan on it being then, but maybe I will. I don't want to screw up and make it completely historically incorrect. Obviously this is an AU and the characters aren't really countries in this fic. I'm sorry for any OOC-ness, this is my first time writing with most of these characters. Okay now for quick translations of the little bit of German I used. Although Papa is pretty self explanatory, and is understood in most English speaking countries as well, I will put in that in Germany Papa, is a generally used word for father, or 'dad' more specifically. Bruder is brother, and Tschüss, is bye. Also sorry if the last part seems poorly written I'm stressed out because my dog ran away, and I am really tired anyway. I tend to make long author's notes, sorry!
