[On the subject of nations as humane.]
Warning: This piece of writing contains some ideologically sensitive material. If you are easily offended, it is advised that you do not read this. However, in no way does this story reflect the personal opinions of the author him/herself. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: Ludwig Beilschmidt, or the personification of Germany, belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.
I.
A cry splits the night. Ludwig bolts up in bed, disturbed from pleasant dreams, his blue eyes darting about the room in confusion.
The cry continues, fluctuating wildly without stopping. Ludwig grinds his teeth: he knows that, unless he goes to check what it is, he'll have no sleep tonight. He pulls his blankets to the side, sliding from the bed into fuzzy slippers.
He marches through the doorway of his bedroom into the hall. His hair is wild and messy. His slippers slap against the polished wooden floor.
He reaches the front door, undoes every lock, and wrenches the door open, scanning the street for a child out too late who maybe banged his knee on a crate somewhere.
Instead, the wailing seems to be coming from his own doorstep.
Confused, the German looks down - and on the doormat sits a small child, barely up to his shins, great fat tears rolling down its cheeks.
Ludwig purses his lips and crouches. The child is holding something on its lap, a piece of paper. He plucks it out of its fingers and reads it; and a moment later, his eyes widen in horror and he stares at the child long and hard.
He has to turn this child over to the authorities to be "relocated." If Ludwig takes him in, the authorities will destroy both of them once he is found out.
And yet ... something about the boy ... leaving him out on the doorstep with the letter sends such a powerful feeling of revulsion through Ludwig's body that he pushes the thought of abandoning the boy away.
He shakes his head and curses himself for being so soft, then gathers the Jew up in his arms and brings him inside.
Behind them, the door shuts; the streets are quiet.
In the night sky overhead, the stars glow softly like faraway angels.
