A/N: Hi, guys. It's been about two years since I've posted anything with a commitment, but I am very excited about this plot bunny. To be honest, I'm a bit nervous about this. I've matured considerably as a writer since my last multi-chapter fic and have left a few behind in the process. I feel like I'm posting my first story all over again! But not to worry, I doubt I'll be leaving his one behind before it's completion. Enjoy!

Also, the background of this chapter was pulled from my recollection of history lessons, various books and movies, and quick Google searches. If you feel that any of the details are not correct, please contact me and I'll do my best to fix them. This goes for any spelling or grammar mistakes as well. Again, enjoy! :)

Chapter 1: The Star

He remembered the first day he had to wear the Star of David. It had felt awkward on his coat. He always needed to straighten it, adjust it. The small irritating cloth didn't belong there. It felt so heavy on his clothes, as if it were a two ton anchor rather than a tattered piece of fabric. He had wanted to rip it off and burn it, but he couldn't. It was the Star of David and he was Jewish. It represented his way of life, his faith. It labeled him. It was inescapable.

The looks people gave him. Some as if he were a disgusting bug that didn't deserve the short life he had been given. Others with pity. As if they wanted to reach out and take his hand, but after finding how filthy it really was, deciding to pull away. And still others, who understood. Who also were forced to wear a Star.

There was a boy in his class named Peter who had refused to wear his Star. His entire family had refused, claiming that they were German citizens. The government had no right to discriminate against the Jewish people. A week later, they were rounded up and taken to a work camp. He never heard of the boy or his family again.

It was because of this incident that his father double and triple checked their Stars every morning.

"If we keep our heads down," he said, "wear our Stars, don't complain, don't make a sound, then the Nazis have no reason to keep us from living our lives. We are German citizens, Erik. We mustn't forget that."

He nodded in response, "Yes, Father."

There was an older girl, Rosanna. She loved books, so of course she was a frequent customer of his father's bookstore. She was the first girl, beside his mother, that he had considered beautiful. She was completely alluring to him. On the days he watched the shop after classes, he'd stare at the house down the street, begging her to visit. He loved how she'd tuck her dark flowing hair behind her ear. He loved how her hazel eyes would twinkle when he talked about the new merchandise. As if he were the only person in the world.

After the first few months of wearing the Star, he had voiced his concerns for her. She had tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes twinkling as she assured him that it was only for their protection.

"Don't worry, Erik," she smiled at him, "They give us these Stars to label us, but they only protect us. David is with us."

For awhile, he believed her. Until she and her family were shipped away. His father had come to him, "Her father said the wrong thing in the wrong place. Keep your head down, Son. Keep quiet. We are German citizens."

He nodded, "Yes, Father."

Each day he went to school, more and more people were gone. Once it was the girl he sat next to in History. She was nice. She had offered her sandwich to him before when he had forgotten his lunch. He never knew her name.

– – –

"Remember, Erik. We are German citizens."

"Yes, Father."

– – –

The next to go was his Biology teacher, Miss Lehrer. He never enjoyed Biology, but he did enjoy her teaching style. She never only taught from the text book. She always was trying to find a new way to keep her students entertained. Her class was never boring. Maybe that was because she was unmarried. It was a shock to hear that she had been transferred.

– – –

"There is hope. We are German citizens."

"Yes, Father."

– – –

The last he saw to go was his neighbors across the street, the Resnick family. They ran a butcher's shop. The best meat he had ever tasted. They were kind to his family. When they bought meat, they would buy a book in return. His father was sad to see them go.

– – –

"Don't worry, Son. We'll be safe. We are German citizens."

"Yes, Father."

– – –

There was a harsh pounding on the door. He sat up in bed, frozen. Who would knock at this time at night?

He carefully moved toward the hallway, listening. His father had answered the knock. There was another voice, harsh and demanding. They were ordered to pack their suitcases quickly and stand in front of their home. If they tried to disobey, they would be shot.

His father was upstairs, "Pack your things, Erik. Quickly now."

He nodded and numbly began to pack. Clothes, shoes, socks, books, anything else that would fit.

His father stood with his mother by the door, each holding a suitcase.

"Get dressed, Erik," His father's eyes held intense anguish, "Hurry."

He nodded and obeyed. The last thing he pulled on was his coat, the Star bright in the dark room. He held his hat to his head as he bent to pick up his suitcase. He hurried down the stairs. His father was waiting for him.

"Ready?"

He nodded and slowly began to move toward the door. His father caught his arm, "We are German citizens, Erik. This is the worst they can do to us."

He shook his head, "No, Father. We don't know what they can do to us."

His mother placed her hands on his shoulders, "Everything is alright, Erik. Everything is alright."

He doesn't believe her, but he nods anyway. She smiles faintly. His spirits are somewhat lifted knowing that he could cheer her up in some way.

Together, they stepped out of their home for the last time. It had begun to rain. He was glad he thought to wear his hat.

He silently allowed his father to hoist him into the back of the military truck, his mother following. The truck lurched forward once his father is aboard.

He studied his home clinically, watching the fire they have set lurch through the windows. If the Nazis can label Jews, round them up, torch their homes, and then ship them off to work camps...what else can they do? Torture? Kill? He does not dare imagine worse.

He dared to sneak a glance at the other passengers once his home has slipped out of sight. They do not speak. They only cower and cry, softly.

Fear has taken them. Fear of the unknown, fear of what waits for them in the camp. Fear of the Nazis' power.

He looked over at his father, thinking of his constant words of comfort, "We are German citizens, Erik. We are safe." They weren't safe now. They were taken from their home, as so many others were. Herded like cattle to God knows where. They weren't German citizens anymore. They were only Jews, animals to the Nazis. He settled back into the hard wooden bench, staring blankly into the darkness, the Stars shimmering faintly under flashes of streetlights. He straightened his once more.