Eighteen years after world war one; I'm living in Germany with my new family. Mother died eight years ago from the cancer and Father died a year ago after catching pneumonia. Professor Kantorek still tells his students that they should fight for their country should another big war happen. Müller and I were the only two to survive from our class. I'm not sure where Müller is now; he moved away two months ago. Every week I go and put flowers on all of my friend's tombs stones. The first few weeks I couldn't stop myself from crying. Before Müller moved away he used to go with me. I hate thinking about the pain their families are in, still.

I walk into our small but livable house. I've just come home from work. It's a small part-time job; a lot safer than being in the war. I close the door and take off my shoes and coat. I hear footsteps running down the hall and a moment later my son, Axel, hugs me around my legs. I crouch down to his level and ruffle his hair.

Axel is only eight years old but is already thinking about his future. He says he wants to be like me when he gets bigger. I just hope that he'll never have to face the same horrors I did during the war. He always marches around pretending to be a soldier with a pot on his head.

I hear two more sets of footsteps and look up to see my wife, Ann, and our daughter, Brigitta. Brigitta is 14 and looks just like her mother. She's strong, independent, and caring; she always helps her mother around the house. Ann, my beautiful wife, I met her three years after the war; we've been married for seven years now. We had Brigitta four years into our marriage then had Axel six years later.

"How was work dear?" Ann says coming over and kissing my cheek. "It was the same as always." Axel lets go of me and runs off. Brigitta gives me a small hug before also walking off. "Have you heard from Müller?" Ann asks. "Didn't he say he was going to write?" "Yes, but I'm sure he's busy settling down, where ever he is." Ann nods then walks into the kitchen. I walk into our bedroom and lay down; tired from working all day. Without realizing it I drift off to sleep.

Explosions are all around us. We're hiding in the trenches. We can't let the enemy get too close. I climb up and peek over. I see five enemy soldiers trying to sneak towards us. I raise my gun and fire at them. The other soldiers with me also fire at them. Four of the enemy soldiers drop dead but the fifth throws a grenade at us. Somehow the explosion doesn't hurt me at all and I'm left watching in horror as I see my friends being blown up or burned by the explosion.

I jolt up and put a hand on my chest. I'm breathing heavily and sweat drips down my face. I can still hear their screams ringing in my ears. I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing but when I close my eyes I can see clearly my friends and comrades dying right in front of me as if it were happening right now. I snap my eyes open and wipe my forehead with my sleeve. "Paul? Are you alright?" I look up and see Ann come towards me. "I'm fine." "Did you have another nightmare?" I bite my lip and swallow before nodding.

I had been having nightmares almost every night. The horrors of war won't leave me; I don't think they ever will. You never know fear until you've watched hundreds of people die right before you.

"Father, are you alright?" Ann and I look up to see Brigitta and Axel standing in the doorway. "I'm alright." I notice Axel had a pot on his head. "Why were you yelling Father?" Axel asks. I look to Ann in confusion. "You were yelling in your sleep." "I'm sorry if I scared everyone. I'm fine; I just had a nightmare." "You have a lot of Nightmares Father. Is there anything I can do?" I smile at him. I get up and ruffle his hair. "I'll be fine. Don't worry. Why don't you two go back to bed, I'm gunna take a walk and get some fresh air." They nod and go to their rooms. I give Ann a kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry honey I'll be fine. You should get some sleep too." She nods and I walk out of the room.

I put on my shoes and jacket and leave the house. I walk down the street and back enjoying the night sky. Looking up at the stars relaxes me. I get back to the house and notice something sticking out of the mail box. I walk over and pull it out. It was addressed to me. I flip over the letter.

From, Müller.