The war has moved.
It has become global.
Countries want to become more involved.
It's 1941, sometime in the late fall time. Days are becoming hectic. Stress is spreading widely through America. Do I blame them? Surely not.
It's World War II and it's already been two years. Maybe a bit less. I can't remember the exact date everything started… but it started, and it's overstayed it's welcome if you ask me. Well… nobody ever welcomed it.
Scratch that…that's a lie.
Of course people are welcoming it. People are supporting it.
The locations of battle haven't yet hit Northern America. The war has hit within the European countries, Africa and Asia, if I'm not mistaken.
I'm trying to ignore it. Thinking this may be a terrible and never ending dream and hopefully, I'll wake up soon. But of course this isn't how it's going to play out. It'll never with my luck. And with mine and my families' luck we're of a Jewish decent. And boy, oh boy, do I show it. I have untameable red curly hair that shoots in every direction and a over sized nose that if I had an erection and decided to run into a wall (which in no way would I ever think about doing, thanks.) no doubt the nose would be first to hit the wall. I'm not exaggerating either. And I'm not saying I have a small penis either. Just to clear things up with you.
I woke up a little before I was actually supposed to wake up, thinking I heard an actual bomb go off. It's something to scare the shit out of you. I can't explain, they'll invade. The Nazi's will. No doubt they'll be coming for me and my family. I have friends that would be willing to protect me, hide me, make up lies about me. But I could never do that. Never.
I laid my head back on my pillow, just wondering what it would be like to have a team of Nazi soldiers burst into our school and search for any Jewish boys and/or girls and take them away. The thought sent wild shivers down my back.
I'd be first to go, and I knew it. Not because of my appearance, I could run and hide all I want but I know, I just know I'd be turned in by the Nazi loving, Jewish hating bastard I've actually bothered to call my friend. I looked out my window, it was still dark out but I knew morning was coming, I assumed it was around three. I yawned before crashing back down on my pillow and closed my eyes attempting to find a happier place.
"Another sleepless night." I said that morning, reaching for a piece of toast. My father lowered his newspaper and frowned.
"Kyle… We've been over this more than a thousand times, the country is going to protect everyone." He crinkled his nose when I made a loud crunchy noise when biting the toast, "If any word of Nazi's are coming down to this town, believe me, we will be put under protection as soon as possible."
"That's just one problem though, Dad… what if we don't hear about them coming. What if we're not even prepared…what if-"
My dad raised a hand and cleared his throat, the expression was serious at first but then he looked at the rest of my family in a sympathetic way. My mother looked down at her knife and fork. She was normally a proud Jewish woman and flaunted herself about being Jewish daily. She'd always said I'd marry a lovely Jewish girl one day. But now, since the war lasting this long so far she's hushed up about everything. My dad who always wore his Kippah no longer wore it anymore, and we haven't been to the Synagogue in ages. I can't say I'm proud to hide my Jewish identity, it is understandable after all… but everyone here knows the whole family is Jewish. Should it matter anymore?
"Listen Kyle, I understand what you are saying." My dad stated clearly, "You've mentioned it nearly every time we sit down, and it's getting frustrating. We're all scared in case you haven't noticed. But we have to trust our government system and hope that they will protect America's people no matter what."
"America is joining the war isn't it?" I asked, playing with my fork. My dad tightened his fist.
"No word has been spread to our town… but… it's obvious, Kyle."
My mom cleared her throat and straightened herself up, "K-Kyle, Ike?" She turned to us, gathering up her dishes and reaching out for ours, "You have school, you should be going now."
Ike, my little grade school brother handed his empty plate to her and gave an awkward smile.
"I have Stan picking me up this morning. He should be here soon I reckon." I handed her my plate and she nodded hastily, "Good. Better that way. Anyone else?" There was a glaring look in her eyes and I knew she was thinking of Eric Cartman at the moment.
"No." I said quickly.
I hopped out of my seat and reached for my tattered school bag. My mother scattered out of the kitchen, her plump body jiggling in place, she wiped her hands on her apron. "Kyle, sweet-heart; I want to give you some advice."
I nodded.
"Drop that dreadful Eric boy. I don't want him near here anymore. He is awful!" There it was. That old conceited and proud voice my mother once had. She was serious and she was finally giving rule over me like she did before the war. Controlling my every moment. She's probably starting to realize that we are in big danger. Soon I'll be cut off from everyone. We'll be hiding in the woods. Moving every few days. Surviving on our own, coming out of the shadows once the war is over and our the Allied side has won.
I nodded again.
"Kyle." She said sternly, her bossy tone coming out, "I mean it. Trouble will only happen if you trust that rotten disgrace!"
"I know, Mom."
Did she honestly think I liked being with Eric Cartman. Honestly, he's only ruined my life since day one and lately things are getting worse. I won't even try to contact him. Won't be near him if my friends are, but at school do I have a choice. He finds me.
It was only a few minutes after, until I saw my friend come up along side the road, his hair was straight and in his face, black as a ravens and his eyes bright blue.
"Kyle!" He said hastily, jotting down a little faster.
"Hi, Stan." I forced a smile.
"Nice hair," He pointed up, laughing slightly. I forced a chuckle out of me as well and stared up.
"Yeah. It's getting worse more likely."
It was true. It was a complete fly-away mess.
As I was walking with Stan, he wouldn't dare bring up the war talk. Instead he talked about his day yesterday which was utterly boring but I knew he had to talk about something other then the war. It was become a more touchier subject every day at school, teachers would rarely talk about anything unless it was something serious. But at most times, it felt as if the adults were trying to hide the war from students, pretend it wasn't actually happening. It was insane. We were in our late teens. Practically adults. But we weren't seen like that. In fact two girls, Bebe and Wendy were caught in detention because of how far and deep their conversation got about the war. Can't blame them. They are girls. Girls often gossip. We only get information from Mr. Garrison so often who often moves up a grade every year we do. It's slightly creepy, but oddly enough we don't think much of it. So far our class is pretty sure Principal Victoria is up to this. Hiding information away from us. She just wants the town to do it's every day routine. Act as if we're all safe. And the mayor is doing it too, only letting the local newspaper add any information if it's indeed serious enough that it could put us in harms way.
It just explains why we've gotten no word about whether America is in the war or not. Our town is hiding a lot of information away from us. They don't want us to know that we're involved. They want us all to see that America is safe. Untouched by the Axis. What a bunch of horse radish. The idea of it all shoots steam out of my ears.
"What do you think, Kyle?" Stan said.
"What?" I said abruptly, I wasn't actually listening to Stan at all. My head was just filled with the whole war situation," About what? What do I think?"
Stan frowned. "You weren't listening?"
"I'm sorry." I said earnestly, "I just had a rough morning. Got into it sort of with my dad and my mum!"
He shrugged, "Yeah, S'ppose I can tell. Your eyes are getting really baggy."
"Yeah. Keep having nightmares." I replied, my voice dropping, but I didn't dare stutter.
"About the-" He paused before taking a short breath, "Listen, my place is always available if you ever… err- well need a place to feel safe."
"That's a kind offer; but I don't need it…"
"Oh." His voice grew sad, he's been wanting to help me out for a while. Always saying if I needed it, I could lie and say I was apart of his family proving I had no Jewish blood in me. Generous offer, once again but foolish. I don't look a thing like his family. And that would only put his family in danger if they'd try to help me.
School was terrible. The minute I walked through the door, the least person I wanted to see was there. Standing with his side slouched against the locker, hands in his pocket, talking to a filthy looking messy haired blond boy, who I can call one of my real friends Kenny was Eric Cartman. My blood boiled inside me. My brows furrowed and my eyes glared straight at him, and he caught glimpse of me too, because his dumbfounded expression turned into a smug smirk. He shoved Kenny aside who barked out a loud swear, but followed behind Cartman anyway, muttering to himself.
"Hey, Kahl!" He spat across the hallway marching towards me. My frown grew even bigger if possible. He could never pronounce my name right, and he knew how much it bugged me. I was certain that deep inside he knew how to pronounce it, he just didn't bother. He stopped in front of me, towering over me, his enormous belly almost hitting my scrawny stomach. He licked his lips. I turned red in fury.
"Knowo what I did this morning that I thought would just be HA-LAR-IOUS?" He said loudly. I didn't care. Not in the least, but yet I answered him. I always did that. Acknowledged him. He rolled up his pale brown collar shirt sleeve, "I did this with my crappy red ball-point pen." When he reached the top of his forearm… it indeed showed a lousy faded pen drawing of the Nazi symbol. My teeth were now gritted. "Just showed Kenny too, thought it was a right laugh!"
"There's nothing funny about that, Cartman, so put it away before I smack the crap out of you!" I shouted. We seemed to be drawing attention already.
Stan had covered his face with his hand and sighed, he was never a fan of me and Cartman's battles usually, Kenny wasn't much for them either, sometimes he got a laugh but not now. Instead he tried to back away from this, tried to disappear from the tiny crowd that now started to form. Cartman grew a wide smile, he was loving the attention, he was loving my reaction. People started to whisper. Cartman put up his arm and gave me a light push that was strong enough to make me stumble. He walked around the inner circle flaunting the drawing on his arm. Some girls gasped. People shouted, but Cartman only smiled. Stan grabbed a hold of my shoulders, holding me up but also to prevent me from attacking him. People were surprised. Nobody dare drew that on anything now. Especially after what was heard about what happened to the Jews.
"I'd like," Cartman bellowed out pointing at me, "to see you try to beat the crap out of me when I join the Nazi's, Kahl! I'm of a decent age and I can totally destroy you and your kind! Can't wait to see your ass in a concentration camp!" Stan frowned.
"Cartman, do you even know what happens at those, you ass?" Stan shouted still holding a strong grip on me, digging his nails into my shoulder. Clyde raised his hand.
"My grandpa said he saw a film of those camps and he said they look like fun."
Cartman raised an eyebrow. "Even I won't pretend and lie about those camps. I want Kahl to know what he has in store for him. It's going to be a living hell, I assure you Clyde, Kahl will not… be coming back." His last words took a moment to come out, but surely enough, they came out as strong as every other word he had just spat to me.
This wasn't what I needed first thing in the morning. I escaped Stan's grip and growled at Cartman. He didn't smile anymore. He didn't frown. He just looked at me. With an intense expression. His brown eyes were blazing. He turned on his heel, pushing every kid that was in his way. I sighed out of exasperation. Stan looked bewildered as kids started to head down the small hallway to the small classrooms.
"What… was that? You guys fight. I know that. I understand that." He said with a hint of astonishment in his voice, "But…that was out of no where. What the hell?" He exclaimed, and scratched the back of his head, messing up his tidy hair. I snarled. "He's getting worse every by the day."
"I'd say. He's got nerve putting that symbol on his arm."
"Well…" I started, "I used to believe before this whole mess… that maybe… he was joking about all this Jewish hating crap. But ever since Hitler came into the picture, he's become obsessed and I know now, he's dead serious and committed to this work."
I rubbed my eyes. They were starting to feel real heavy. "I might take a nap later this afternoon in the nurse's office."
"You need it."
Class was like someone was stabbing me in every place of my body today. Well that someone being Cartman no doubt. I don't what it was, but it seemed like his objective today was to make me go over the top.
"Yes, Eric?" Mr. Garrison said when turned away from the chalk board.
"I was just curious to know, do you think America will be joining the Axis or the Allied?" Cartman said calmly, so easily, as if this was an everyday asked question. The temptation to look back at him and retaliate grew, but I knew he was expecting that. So I kept still. Gripping my hold on my pencil. Mr. Garrison pushed his glasses up and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Eric… I'm sorry but this can wait."
"No. I don't think it can actually… you see, I think the class should know right now which side our country is taking, and which one is right and wrong."
"Eric… that's-"
"Clearly deep down, we all know which is right and wrong, and which big nosed creatures should be wiped off the face of the earth."
My tight grew stronger and stronger, shut up, I thought, shut up, shut up!
"I don't want to give away who I'm siding with of course, but I do think that Hitler certainly has a lot of strong arguments against the Jews and what kind of horrible people, that and others, so I think the class should raise their hands of who they are in favour for-"
"Eric, shut the hell up!" Mr. Garrison rose his voice, by now I was staring right at Cartman and he was staring right back at me. My mouth was closed tightly. I wanted to fight. He wanted me to fight.
"Personally I'm hoping for a new world. A better world." He licked his lips again, "A Jew-Free World!"
"ERIC! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Mr. Garrison shouted. Cartman smiled.
"Listen, I can't get you in trouble for voicing your opinion, but watch what you say, or I can get you expelled!" Mr. Garrison pointed a warning finger at Cartman who merely shrugged.
"What will something like expulsion do, when I too am working along side Hitler burning the Jews!"
"ERIC CARTMAN!" He shouted so loudly, the desks must have moved, "Are you aware we have a Jewish boy in the classroom at the moment!"
"Oh. I'm fully aware. Big nose. Curly Jew fro. He'll be the first to go on my list. I promise him that!"
I got out of my seat, throwing my desk down, and marched over to him grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. A few students squealed. Cartman looked surprised for once, was he not expecting to actually walk up to him and nearly pumble him in front of the teacher? Maybe not. But I was ready. I was all ready to go. But Mr. Garrison had pulled us apart. Cartman's cheeks were tinted with a pink colour. He was hot, and so was I. Once I put a hand on my own cheeks. I was completely flustered.
"Office. With me. Now!" Mr. Garrison said through gritted teeth tugging Cartman by the shoulder, he struggled, but soon followed.
"This isn't a joke anymore!" I shouted on the verge of tears, "This is serious!" Stan and Kenny stared up at me ready to say something, but they knew there was nothing to say. They looked back down. Cartman turned his head.
"I'm aware of that, Kahl." He hissed.
My mouth was open ready to shout, but only a quick breath of air came out as he was taken out of the classroom. I hung my head down, hands gripping on my knees. Stan came and stood beside me resting a hand on my back.
"I'm sorry…" He said. I looked at his through the corner of my eyes and sniffed. "I don't think he really gets it."
"I don't even know why I said that…" I breathed, "Of course he gets it."
"I don't think so… I mean he'd probably join, realize what a dick Hitler is and pussy ou-" He began.
"Stan." I whispered, "Don't try to make me feel better." I stood straight up, and he patted my back, a worried expression plastered on his face, "You can try all you want… but it won't make a difference." I added in softly.
The rest of the day had no sign of Cartman, my thought was he was either sent home or he was forced to spend the rest of school hours in the office writing lines or getting the belt. My face suddenly grew hot and I knew it was turning beet red. The image of Eric Cartman in a full darkly coloured Nazi uniform came into mind. Was my face red because of anger, seeing Cartman pulling off the uniform. The smug expression all over him. The hatred for me deep in his brown eyes. My next image was blurred but I could see clearly. Him in the same uniform… then there was me. I had the angry expression. But I was pushed down to a table and Cartman took out a worn out black leather belt and gave me a good smack across the… I opened my eyes. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
"Gross…" I murmured to myself. I must have been really tired. To have a split image of Cartman doing a dirty deed to me and me liking it. I smiled, trying to hold in the chuckle that desired to escape. That's a laugh. Why would Cartman be doing that to me? The idea is repulsive. And I have way better taste to have day dreamt about Eric Cartman. I'm not even gay.
But apparently I was still beet red, Stan nudged me in the shoulder and suddenly asked if I was catching a fever or something.
"W-what?" I gasped out, "Course not."
"Hmm. Maybe you should take that nap."
I nodded, "Er… yeah, I'll look into that."
Maybe I wasn't getting enough sleep lately. To have a lusty desire of Cartman giving me a spank with a leather belt was just my brain and body begging me to get some decent rest.
"I'll do it when I finish writing out these equations." I told Stan, hoping he'd relax. I twirled my pencil between my fingers and breathed out, trying to clear my mind to finish these problems. The idea came to my head where I could possibly confront my image with Stan. But he'd think there was something seriously disturbed with me, so it was best to keep a thought like this bottled up, but if they were to keep occurring, I'd have to confide in someone, right?
I quickly finished up my assignment, scanning my paper fast and carefully making sure I handed it in without errors and once satisfied I stood up, gathered my bag and books and scurried to the front desk, laid my paper down neatly in the pile and rushed towards the door without realizing I hadn't asked.
I heard the obvious sound of an 'ahem' from Mr. Garrison and I turned to look at him.
"Kyle? Planning I wouldn't be able to see you."
"No. Sorry. I thought I asked. I was wondering if I could carry on to the office and maybe rest in the nurse's office?"
"Well…" He started, "I suppose their's no harm in that." I smiled ready to turn before he spoke up again, "However, don't start up with that Eric, alright, Kyle?"
I nodded again and turned on my heel rushing towards the office. Did people think I was insane? My mum first told me to avoid and now my teacher, and I mean I know it makes sense and all. But why do people really think I want to start it up with Cartman? Because he boils my blood. Steams me up. Get's me all riled up. Raises my temper till it's right off the chart. Do they think I like it? Well I don't start it. I don't want to start it. I don't want to talk to Cartman. I hate Cartman. I hate Cartman with a passion. I hate him. I hate him. I hate Eric Theodore Cartman!