Disclaimer: I own nothing of Hamilton. All rights go to Lin-Manuel Miranda.
Eliza POV
Eliza was so scared, she feared she would collapse. Collapse, in the middle of the street, and then the Nazis would find her shoot her, and just leave her body in the middle of the street to rot. Nobody would care. She had nobody left to live for. Nobody was left to live for her. Life was pointless. And yet still, she continued to run through the streets and alleyways of Krakow.
Every time he left foot hit the pavement her foot seemed one step closer to falling off. She was running on glass shards, sharp stones, and branches. It seemed as if her life couldn't get any worse.
She was lucky, she realized. She had been sorting through clothes, her job in the ghetto. It was disgusting really. The clothes had bloodstains, vomit stains, urine stains. These clothes were not the clothes that were being sent to be washed, and to German citizens.
These were the clothes that were not going to be washed, and sent to the other residents of the ghetto. Residents who had been forced out of their homes so quickly and forcefully, that they hadn't even had time to grab a spare jacket or pair of trousers. It was always awful to see a young girl or boy walking around the streets with a urine stain on the front of their blouse.
Eliza had heard a shout from across the street, and looked up. She had seen a line of people come out of the first apartment building near the wall, being lead at gunpoint by a Nazi officer. And then another line. And another. Hundreds of people leaving the gates of the ghetto. This definitely wasn't the regular protocol of people walking to their job at the factory on the other side of town. This was... And then it hit her. Deportation. Death camps. Everyone.
She had heard rumours of this happening from the people who she shared her flat with. Eliza had dismissed these stories as nonsense, stories that people just spread around to pass the time and cause a stir.
But now, as she thought about it more, the words came back to her, their words haunting and extremely eerie. She saw the faces of her flat partners, some had eyes wide with fear, and others, like herself had rolled their eyes and shrugged it off. But as Eliza heard the terrified screams and gunshots ringing out, she knew that everything was true. All of the rumours and stories that she had scoffed at were now a living nightmare.
Chana came rushing in to the flat, eyes wide with fear, auburn hair a mess, panting out of breath.
"You'll never guess what I just heard!" She exclaimed far too loudly. She slammed the door, which rattled the thin floorboards, creaking loudly. Rosa shot up from her spot on the floor and stomped over towards Chana. She was a scary thing, Rosa. Blood-shot eyes, crazy thin gray hair spiking up every which way, and she seemed to be even skinnier than the rest of us, if that was even possible.
"You stupid, stupid girl!" She whisper-yelled. "Do you want 'em to stomp on over here and blow your brains out?" she stated harshly and she shook Chana's shoulders. "Oi! Hands off the poor girl," Alfred said. He was the only one Rosa would listen to. He was a huge lug, terrifying to oppose.
"Let's hear what 'cha gots to say Chana!" Perla excitedly whispered. She didn't seem the like, but she was a huge gossip. Eliza had always hated the way that they talked, not using proper grammar and such, but she wasn't going to say anything, so she just had to bare it.
Chana, still out of breath then recounted her story. "So, I was down at the factory, doin' my duties, when the two lads next to me start chatting up a storm. I say to myself, they shouldn't be talkin', they gon get shot now, but still they keep talkin' up a storm."
Then one of the guys says, "We gots to be on the lookout now, they gon' round us up and send us to the death camps, out in the country." The other says, "Oh yeah I heard about them death camps, puttin' u on trains and shipping us off. I mean, hey, there's probably at least space to breathe out in the country, not packed up in here like a can a sardines, am I right?"
Then they both burst out laughing, the soldier there screams and waves his gun, then they shut up. Crazy right?" She finally finished her story.
"Ooh Chana, do you think it's true?" pressed Perla. "I mean it's pretty scary an' all, but wow, what a great story. I'll have to tell the girls we trade with, they won't believe it!"
Eliza spoke. This was all so annoying. "Why must you spread a pack of lies like wildfire? It's stupid, and if the soldiers ever find out what you're talking about, they will kill you on the spot. Do you want that?"
"Wow. She speaks." Said Debora, the eldest of the group, laughing.
Oops. Eliza hadn't even realized that she was speaking until after she had finished. Perla looked as though she wanted to kill Eliza. She was used to being babied by everyone in the flat so this was a surprise. She flipped her extremely dirty hair, sending dirt and dust flying everywhere around the already filthy flat. "At least I have some value of courage to speak up once in a while." She spoke, her voice roaring with fury, icy eyes narrowing.
"At least I don't have to spread gossip to get attention. This is absolutely ridiculous." Eliza muttered. She rolled her eyes, walked into the room where the children were sleeping, closed the door, sat down on the floor, and tried very, very hard not to think.
She heard a shout from Chana, "You're just mad that you didn't hear it first!"
Eliza put her hands over her ears and drifted off into a restless sleep.
Every time Eliza's foot hit the pavement, she hated the Nazi even more than she thought possible. She wished that she would have thought to be just a little bit quieter when making her escape. After she had seen the fourth line of distressed, panicking people walk out the gates, she knew that they would be coming for her sooner or later so she had to think quickly. No, she didn't have to rescue anyone. She didn't care about anyone here. Anymore. She choked back a sob.
She had to consider her options. She could either wait here, let them take her, and be sent to a death camp, she could wait until they came to take her, resist, and then be shot, or she could escape. The latter sounded like the best option, but now was the tricky part. How? How was she going to escape? There was an officer who was standing right next to her, so this definitely complicated matters. She knew from trading experiences that there was a hole in the wall just big enough for a very skinny twenty-year-old right behind her, so Eliza just had to find a way for him to not be focused on her.
She continued to sort the distasteful clothing while five more lines of people continued to walk by. Eliza was panicking now, and she couldn't get a whistling sound out of her head. It was so obnoxious. Wait. That sound was coming from a small boy walking down the sidewalk just coming into her view, oblivious that there was a Nazi right beside Eliza. The Nazi yelled at the boy, "Hör auf diesen schrecklichen Klang!" And to Eliza's horror, went to the child, and started beating him with the butt of his gun. Eliza knew it then. The Nazi's back was to her, so this was her chance! As much as she didn't want to leave the child, there was nothing she could do to help him.
So she turned and ran for the wall. She pushed her head through the wall, and then her torso. She almost had her legs through when she heard fast footsteps, and the Nazi screaming, "Stoppen Sie dummes Mädchen!" Eliza panicked, for he was dangerously close now, but she had pulled her right leg through. He was close enough to wrap his meaty hands around her left ankle, and started to pull her back through.
He was stronger than her, so she knew that he would be able to pull her back, so she did the only thing she could think of. She kicked her leg as hard as she could, felt het foot connect with something, and then heard a crushing sound followed but a grunt of pain. She felt the hands loosen, and pulled her leg through. In a last effort to pull her back, the Nazi reached for her foot, but the only thing he received in return was Eliza's shoe which fell off her foot as she pulled it through.
Eliza collapsed in a heap on the other side of the wall, gasping and panting for breath, shaken almost to her very core. That could have and still could end very badly for her. That snapped her brain into focus. She needed to get out of there. She got up, and started running. She heard boots stomping near the entrance of the gate and shouts in German. She had to move fast. She ran along the wall of the massive ghetto, fumbling as she ran. She started to get tired after running almost halfway down the wall, but she refused to stop. Stopping would be giving up.
She persisted, throat burning, legs aching, heart pounding, both with fear and also with effort. She reached the end of the ghetto wall and ducked into an alleyway between two flat buildings. She wanted to stop, she was so tired and scared, but she had to keep going. She ran through alleyway after alleyway, deserted street after deserted street, and ducked into and out of smashed windows and missing doorways to hide.
Eliza had travelled at least five kilometers on foot, and now, instead of deserted flat buildings, she was travelling through the farmland of Krakow. On one hand, this was good, because she had gotten far enough away from the ghetto that there sometimes weren't always Nazis running around with bloodhounds. But on the other hand, it meant that now there was next to nowhere to hide when they drove by in their trucks. Sometimes. She stressed to herself.
She was walking down the street, looking at an old flour mill far in the distance. She then heard the distinct sound of a car approaching from a distance. Now, she really had to think quickly. She swooped her head around wildly, looking for any place at all to take cover. The mill was too far ahead to run to in this amount of time, and all around her was nothing but farmlands, grass, and a ditch. Farmlands, grass… and a ditch! She sprinted over to the ditch, not thinking about anything like poisonous bugs, or snakes, which before this, usually would've been the first thing on her mind. She arrived at the ditch, and threw herself to the ground just as the truck drove by. Eliza tried to make herself as small as possible, and even held her breath. As soon as the truck passed and was out of sight, she slowly got up, inspecting the area around her before fully standing up and climbing out of the ditch.
She looked down at herself and saw that her gray clothes were now caked in dark brown, cold, mushy mud. Great. She thought to herself. As Eliza continued to walk down the road, closer towards the mill, the cars started coming more and frequently, and Eliza continued to throw herself in the ditch.
Eliza truly panicked though, when a Nazi stopped the car where she had first thrown herself in the ditch, and leaned over to inspect. He seemed to be catching on to her. But how? He drove the car away then, back to the ghetto, she assumed. She climbed out of the ditch and looked behind her. Stopping every time that she had thrown herself in the massive ditch, was a trail of dark brown footprints. And the officer she realized, had gone back to get others. Others to find her. She pushed herself up and out of the ditch, sprinting to the flour mill. There was a large house next to the mill, and she prayed that the people there would take pity on her.
She ran up the steps leading to the door, and knocked hard and fast. She waited five long seconds with no indication that anyone was coming to get the door so she knocked again. Loud and fast. The door opened, and she jumped. A large man opened the door a crack, his cold eyes unwelcoming, and his grimace apparent on his face. Eliza gulped. She didn't know what exactly to expect, but it wasn't this.
"Hello sir, I am so sorry to intrude but I am begging you, I am in dire need of help, if I could just speak to you inside for a momen-"
She was cut off quickly but his low, gravelly terrifying voice. "I don't take in strangers off the street. Get off my porch. Now."
Eliza begged. "Please sir, I just escaped from the ghetto.. and they're coming for me.. I.. please just for a few moments… to hide me.."
He yelled now. "I will not allow stupid Jewish filth inside my house! Get away!" She was crying now. "Please sir.. they'll… they'll kill me.. please…"
He was screaming. "AND THE WORLD WILL BE BETTER WITHOUT YOU! GET OUT OR THEY'LL BE HERE BY THE TRUCKLOAD TO PUT A BULLET THROUGH YOUR HEAD!"
Eliza was terrified. She ran off the steps and heard the door slam and lock. She ran into the middle of the street, looking for a suitable place to hide, when she saw three German trucks come speeding down the road. Eliza froze. This is where she would die. She knew it. She wasn't in the truck's line of sight yet, but in about ten seconds she would be. She closed her eyes and waited for death.
"Hey!" Called a voice from over her shoulder. She whipped her head around, expecting the terrifying old man, but instead was greeted by a young face, standing by the door of the mill. "Get over here!" He yelled. "Do you want to survive or not?"
He was holding the door of the mill open and beckoning her over. Eliza didn't have to be told twice. She ran towards the man and into the mill. "Stay put and still, okay? I won't tell." He said. She nodded, and he closed the steel door, leaving her alone in the darkness.
She heard the sounds of the trucks coming closer, and almost screamed with fear when she heard them stop in front of the house. She heard the young man approach the Nazis, and they started to have a conversation. She heard one of the Nazis speaking.
"We are sorry to bother you, but have you seen a teenage girl come by this way? She has escaped from the ghetto and we must have her back immediately."
She prayed that the young man hadn't lied, and wouldn't tell them where she was. "Yes," he responded, and Eliza's breath caught in her throat. He continued. "But she ran right past here. I think she was headed for Bielsko-Biala. I heard that there are a large group of Jews there."
Eliza breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. He didn't expose her after all. She wondered why. "Thank you for your information. Goodbye." The Nazi spoke curtly. She heard the sounds of car doors slamming, engines starting and trucks driving away. And then, saw the dull gray light peek in through the doors, which her savior was holding.
A/N: Thanks for reading! BTW, next chapter will be from Alexander's POV.