Love in the Ghetto.
Bella POV
I quietly slipped through the back door of our modest home. I made sure to stay extra quiet since Charlie was probably still asleep. With all the extra work he was given, I didn't want to interrupt his slumber. Of course, being me, I tripped in the dark – a sad fact because I was born in this house, and nothing ever moved.
I muttered a quick, "OW!" and continued to tiptoe towards my room. Unfortunately, my caution was wasted.
"Isabella?" I heard my father murmur from his room – adjacent to mine.
"Yes, Papa?"
"Are you just getting home?" His voice was laced with exhaustion, but there was still a strong undertone of concern.
"Yes Papa," I mumbled in defeat.
"I thought you said you and Alice would head straight home from school?"
It was true, I had promised him, but promises meant nothing anymore.
Seeing as I couldn't lie to him, I told him the truth. "Well, Papa, we did come straight home, but got stopped again."
A loud crash answered my sentence, as Papa stumbled into the room in his robe, searching frantically for me. When his arms found my waist, he pulled me tight against him.
After his panic subsided, he gripped my shoulders, and looked me in the eye.
"Did they hurt you?" The sadness in his eyes was apparent, and he knew it.
"No, Papa. They just made us scrub the floors of the new office building downtown."
By this time, tears were beginning to fall down both our cheeks.
"Oh Bella, I was so worried! I was about to go out and search for you with Mr. Brandon, but I was so tired."
I placed my hands on top of his, and gave them a squeeze.
"I know Papa, and I'm sorry you were worried, but Alice and I really did try to get home safely. We even took the long route, unfortunately there were two soldiers at the end of Main Street. They grabbed us and took us to the building." He moved to comfort me, but I wasn't finished.
"We were okay at first, but then our knees became so swollen that we could hardly move. Alice took it the worst, and she accidentally fell over. The guards yelled something at her in German, and they hit her with their guns."
Now I was ready for comforting.
Charlie took me into his arms, and shushed my sobbing, rocking me back and forth. At times like this, I wished Mama was here more than ever. Her name was Renee, and she was taken by the Germans about a year ago. They just came and took her one day. Other women were taken too, basically any healthy woman between 25 and 35.
They were loaded into a truck and just courted away. No time for goodbyes, and the pain was evident in the families left behind.
Eventually, I stopped blubbering enough for Charlie to get in a question.
"And, and, Alice?"
My tears returned, but they were happy ones.
"They let us go a half hour later, and I just saw her to her house safely."
Their house was two down from ours, so I always made sure she was okay before returning to mine.
After this commotion, I looked at our very ancient clock and glanced worriedly at Charlie.
"Papa, don't you have work in a few hours?"
That seemed to be all it took for Charlie to once again become the man of the house. He straightened up, and I almost believed him in his optimism.
He quickly kissed my forehead, and stood up shakily. I hadn't noticed we were on the sofa, but I stood up too.
"Get to sleep, my Isabella. " He kissed my forehead again, before turning back to his bedroom.
I went to my room, but not before uttering a quick and quiet, "Love you Papa."
My sentiment was returned, and with a weary sigh I fell onto my squeaky cot.
The rest of the tears that I had kept from Charlie now came – hard, and with a passion.
I turned to my side, and tried to distract myself with happy thoughts, something my mother had taught me to do when things were bad.
Ok, positive. Alice is safe and home. My Papa loves me and I love him. God is here for me, and always will be. I had gotten a 100 on my test in school today, something I knew Charlie would be very proud of. I racked my brain for more answers, but there were no more to be found.
4 is a good number.
I turned back on my other side, and I let my mind wander. Sure my life was all right now, but what if things changed? Could Charlie deal with a change? More importantly, could I?
Being a Jew was so hard, dealing with the soldiers, the taunting, the punishment, and the humiliation.
Sometimes I wondered how those Germans could live with themselves! They would abuse us, and call us "Satan Spawn", a name which every Jew hated.
As I lay there, I silently vowed never to look at a German the same way. Charlie used to just tell me that they were confused and only followed their Fuhrer because they didn't know anything else. Lately, I think he was beginning to change his mind.
From now on, I would treat them like they did us. Scum.
How a German could ever gain back the respect of a Jew (or me), I didn't know.
How wrong I was.
Edward POV
As I went through the back door of our mansion, I made sure to let the door slam loudly, as it always does.
"I'm home!!" I yelled to no one in particular, storming up the stairs to our second level , the one with the kitchen.
I received muted grumbles in response, but nonetheless, movement around the house could be heard. It was our weekend off in the Deutsche Wehrmacht, or German army. I was supposed to have arrived earlier, but they had held me later in the Sturmbannführer's office, and boy was I glad.
Patiently waiting, I sat down at the kitchen table, my hands crossed, and my knees twitching. I couldn't wait to tell them the news!!!
My beautiful mother, Esme, was the first down, and she smiled when she saw me, giving me a quick but firm squeeze.
Next came my beast of a brother, Emmett, and wore a smirk when he saw my rather large grin. He was one of the first to know of my surprise, and I could tell he wanted to share it just as much as I did.
Lastly came my father, Carlisle, who was happy but surprised to see me there. I guess he figured I was coming home tomorrow. ( It's quite a walk from the headquarters, and it is usually preferred to be undertaken in daylight.)
Esme was the first to understand the excitement in my face, and she demanded to know what it was. Seeing my mother put on a stern face was hilarious, because she's the nicest person in our town.
When I had finished laughing, I turned to face both my parents.
"I made Untersturmführer."
For a moment our kitchen was silent, then everyone began at once. Esme rushed forward to hug me, already crying with pride. Emmett gave my shoulder a squeeze, and mouthed, "Way to go!" And Carlisle? He beat Esme by a mile, sprinting towards me, and grabbing my shoulders, shaking with joy as he cried over and over, " I'm so proud!!"
You see, Untersturmführer means Second Lieutenant. I had been working overtime in the army for the past six months, organizing fundraisers, recruiting new blood, and even taking care of Jew shipping. To accomplish this, I had skipped both of my holiday breaks, and because I hadn't time to eat anything from home, I gave it to a superior officer.
Just tonight, the committee had decided that I was more than ready to take on the job. They had admired my perseverance, determination, and well , lack of complaint. SO many soldiers were re-considering joining because of all the labor involved.
Emmett was already a Sturmbannführer ( or, Major ) and now was the first I had seen him in a year. He had been sent to lead forces into Northern Poland.
Carlisle, on the other hand, was a retired Brigadeführer ( Major General ). He had quit just before the war, and his only wish left in life was to see his sons achieve army greatness.
Switching back to the present, I saw my family now gathered closer, Esme managing to squeeze me harder, Emmett near tears and whapping my back, and Carlisle still holding my shoulders, gazing off behind me.
Noticing me looking, he broke off the thoughts of his army days, and gave me the largest grin I have ever seen on him. (Besides the one I the picture of him getting married to Esme – which hung in the living room ).
Grinning back just as large, I swore never to let anyTHING or anyONE ruin what I had now.
How wrong I was.