I didn't see them till after the war ended. Years from when they left. I suppose I had given up hope during the long months of isolation. Yet after several alone, I found a family who was in dire need of help. It was a Jewish family that I saw trying to escape one night while I wandered for rats. Yes, I was eating rats at this time. The streets flourished with them, hundreds were nestled in allies and behind corners.
Before I had contacted the Resistance group. I easily found them after a nights search. The men looked in laughter. I walked away without thought, knowing they were worth nothing to me. But I knew full well I wanted to help. And so I did. I searched families out… secretly making sure no harm would come to them.
Yet several I brought home. To one of the only occupied homes in my area. Soldiers had not come since that night, and others would walk by quickly. They were afraid, scared of me, of my haunted home. It amused me; they were frightened not by the soldiers parading around, but of a mere child. Yet they had rights to be afraid… although I never gave them anything to fear.
The first family who lived with me was restless, always watching the door, quietly waiting for a father to walk in. They did not trust me, but being in this time, in this situation, I understood their suspicion.
They had a young girl whom was around seven, my shown age. She loved the fact that I was there; it was someone to keep her company, to play with. An older boy, Adam, was as cautious as his parents, he was knowledgeable and curious. If I had anything out of the ordinary, he was sure to ask of it. The parents, as I said, were restless, always on the watch. They didn't like the fact they lived with a child, someone worthless in a battle. Yet they stayed, for I provided them with shelter and food.
Yet the three would sit at the table long past the setting sun and discuss of their plans and me. They had thought to leave, days they would ask each other how, when. And oblivious to them, I sat in the corner watching. They did not trust me; this was obvious. Yet when the Nazi's came… they had no choice.
Emmy, the young girl, sat playing with her rag doll, something she carried on her at all times. I sat next to her, a doll in my own hands as well. Adam and his parents sat whispering in the corner. They yet again, questioned each other about leaving.
Then a loud knock echoed through the silent room. And the words, often repeated in my nightmares, came from behind the door. "Open up, French Police."
Without a second to waste I shoed the wide-eyed family up the old stairs. But as Adam shoved his sister up after his parents, the door was kicked down. Wood splintered and flew from the post. Before they caught site of Adam or me, I shoved the boy behind the couch. His eyes looked at me with question. But I turned away, and simply walked forward.
My innocent look, with my childish dress made the men look down at me without a care. "What do you want?" But my young, but demanding voice directed all four faces to look down upon me. Khaki-colored shirts, blue pants, black berets, and black leather belts clothed those in front of me. They were the Les Miliciens members, I had been watching the new French police force recruit and conquer the older one.
I looked between the similar men and spotted a familiar face. A smile crossed my face as I looked at a shivering man. "Hello again." The three turned to the now frozen officer with amusement in their eyes.
"Where is your father, girl?" The man in front asked me. A sense of Déjà vu hit me, and as my eyes landed on the man, a gun directed at me. I merely raised an eyebrow before the gun exploded. The bullet soared through the air as I readied my self for the impact. As if rehearsed, the hard metal dove through my flesh; straight into my dead heart.
"Raff! What are you doing?" The older man shouted at mine own. His face was paler now as he slowly raised his finger and pointed.
"Tisk, tisk, tisk… Raff, I truly thought you would have learned." He did not linger a moment before his feet were out the door. The three others looked at my wounds and went after him.
I gradually felt my feet lift and my body fall backwards. Adam, still hidden behind the couch, ran forward to catch me. "Mademoiselle Danny? Are you alright?" He held me with concern evident in his voice. His parents and sister slowly descended on the stairs looking on in horror.
"I'm alright, not dying yet." I comforted them. Yet the bullet wound made the cringe at my words. Madame Riven muttered something in German I could not understand, but at the moment, I cared not to know.
The Riven family stayed with me for nearly another year. My home had become their own, and I, part of their family. But as time went forward, more of France became part of Hitler's control. They decided to leave there before it was too late. And knowing full well the chances of survival, they left with hope.
I housed three other families before the war ended. Yet I helped so many more. And proudly I can say, not a single one of my charges where harmed.
When the war ended, both my home and Victoria's were untouched. Each night I had visited her house, cleaning it, protecting it. I felt it was my duty. But with duty, it gave me a sense of comfort. To see the paintings, the dolls, and books again, it helped me remember why I tried, why I hoped.
And then the parade came through. Hollers of delight and joy came through the streets. I did not believe at first. Was the war truly over? But soon I came to see; no longer were the uniforms, the covered heads, and the silent crowds. And I had but one hope; that my little Tori would come home.
a/n: I updated… sry… lifehectic… so no excuse… not that anyone particularly anticipates the update. Lets see if my excuses are good… 2 classmates died by suicide in the last 2 months. And we had relatives from Sweden over. I got my permit finally after hours of driver's ed. We went to Costa Rica. My mom got a new job. And… school and work and speech.
Reviewhappy me
