Hello, friends who are following the translation of "The Labyrinth". This time it was me who translated it, so please forgive me for the many mistakes I made, I used the google translator and a little common sense, hope you can understand. I don't know if I'll be able to translate the next chapters, but I hope it is possible. Thank you and hope you enjoy and leave comments.

I opened my eyes and looked to the empty side of the bed.

- Sammy has left. – I thought aloud.

I know that the rehearsal will take a long, so I decided to order my breakfast and start to plan my day. The phone rings.

- Hello! - I'll get whithout much enthusiasm.

- Helen is Beth! Sammy is in theather and it'll take a long time there, so I thought maybe you wanted to join us to the Schloss Schönbrunn, it's a lovely tour ride.

All I wanted wasn't to spend a whole day in the company of Beth and Leo. They are great people, but the need I had to be alone was much bigger than making endless walks with my in-laws. But I knew it would be impossible for me to get rid of insistence Beth, so I accepted.

We went by train to Schönbrunn and I was grateful to Beth for the invitation, because the place is really charming. I rode all the luxury castle, absolutely enraptured by such beauty. A long time ago I got used to the simplest things, so I confess that the luxury of the palace really cheered me up. We made a wonderful lunch at the restaurant which was once the saddlery of the palace. Later, I decided to explore the gardens, because I'd heard the recommendation from an old lady who told me that "as beautiful as the castle were their gardens." As the gardens were far, Beth and Leo preferred to stay around the palace, but they encouraged me in my solitary walk.

Go, dear, we'll wait for you beneath those trees, we'll take a nap! - Said Leo, always with his good-natured way.

I walked quiet until I get to a sort of amusement park, with mirrors that distort the image and a big metal bird in which children took turns, lively, flapping its huge wings. I saw a large band shell, similar to an ear. I stopped in front of it, very intrigued, wondering what could be, until I heard a whisper coming from the shell. Then I understood it was one of those shells in which we can listen and speak, as a sort of cordless phone.

Intrigued by the whisper, I decided to join the game that certainly some kid was doing to me and approached me more. Smiling, I leaned my face to the right side, to listen with my good ear. But what I heard resonated in my soul as if it had come straight from hell!

- Lena!

Terrified, I turned my head in every possible direction, desperately seeking another shell, the shell that issued that voice for so long I haven't heard, calling me by a name that no one, unless he used to wear to refer to me. Then I looked right back and finally saw another shell ... But no one was around!

Feeling very disturbed, I ran over there and I was looking around, not understanding if what I'd heard was real or simply a figment of my imagination that was so impressionable because of the circumstances. The excitement of children around was immense, so I tried a bench and sat down, trying in vain to control my heart, which at that point was to bucking. How it is possible?

How can after all this time it still have the power to haunt me so much? How this bastard back from hell to torment me? I tried to calm myself and I remembered when, as in England, where I went with some more Schindler's Jews after the long march out of Poland, I received a telephone call from National Military Court of Krakow, which informed me of his arrest and asked me if I could act as a witness. And the amazing thing is that there wasn't to be a prosecution witness but defense witness to him! And even more absurd is that he is the one who had made this strange request to me. Surprise and very indignant, I remember that I said:

- Is there a problem if I don't want to get involved? Will I be arrested or prosecuted for this?

- No, miss, nothing happens to you.

- So please, please don't insist. I've nothing to say about this gentleman.

- But this was a request from the prisoner himself, who insisted that we localize you and ...

- How did you localized me?

- We follow the records made by the U.S. Army, which crossed with groups of Jews who came out of the concentration camps, still in Poland. It was they who led some of you to the U.S. military base on the outskirts of London, where you is at the moment. It was easy to find.

- I'm sorry, sir, but if I am so far from Poland is why I chose to be, and I don't intend to return. This man who is on trial will have to deal without me. I'm sorry, it's my final word!

- Okay, Miss Hirsch. We won't come looking for you again. Sorry for the inconvenience.

I remember I hung up the phone angrily and went to the ombudsman booth of the barracks. I think they'd never seen me open my mouth, because until then, I shut obeyed all the orders (luckily some American officials were fluent in Polish, so we could understand what they were asking us) even more silent and filled out all paperwork that was pushed to all interested in immigrating to anywhere, as was my case. I was scouring the aisles until I found what I believed to be the ombudsman and dumped in good polish:

- Who passed my name to the Army Court of Krakow?

- Excuse me, miss? Asked also in Polish, a guy with dark eyes and dark hair.

I don't know what happened to me while crossing eyes with this man, I think I felt an immense goodness coming from him, something rare, something at that time I only remember seeing in Mr. Schindler's green and deeply eyes; the memory of those eyes immediately disarmed me. I started crying compulsively, while trying to articulate anything... God, how I hated the feeling of not knowing what to say, feeling that accompanied me throughout the time I was in Plaszow... How I missed the arguments, ran out there and find a corner to hide myself and to spend my mixed feelings. The soldier was behind me, I had no means of hiding with him at my heels.

- Please leave, I'm sorry, I didn't have spoken that way. Please leave, I beg.

The soldier not only didn't come out as he sat beside me, pulled a little case of a pocket, opened it, took out a harmonica and calmly began to play a beautiful melody, something I'd never heard before, a light and cheerful music, even funny sometimes. While playing, he made funny faces to me and an all kind of funny gestures that caught my attention. It was so much fun that, without I noticed, silenced my tears, silenced my fears, silenced... everything! That song was so surprising, so unexpected, that I just stood there, without reaction again, but delighted with the soldier's attitude. There was no rude gestures, no rude tone, no insults...

When he finished playing, put the harmonica back in case and got up without saying a word. He smiled, curtsied with his hat and left. I think the gratitude I felt for his kindness is what led me to looking for him in his circle of friends the next day. Now shamelessly, I spoke in good polish.

- My name is Helen, Helen Hirsch. - And stretched out my hand to greet him.

The soldier got up the circle of friends and stretched out his hand to me, smiled, returning the greeting, in such a clear polish as if he were born in my country, and only now I had noticed.

- Samuel Horowitz. But you can call me Sam!

The ball of the kids who were having fun in the gardens of the castle hit the nail on my leg and reminded me where I was and what had happened to me.

Damn Kommandant! A simple reminder of the horror upsets my mind, constrains me, irritates me, hurts me!

With great difficulty I get up and walk through mirrors that sometimes diminish me or flatten me, widen me, deform me - Exactly how I feel has always been, a figure without mold, a figure without a past, a figure trapped in stereotypes and by fear. I let my mind tramping when I realize, by one of the mirrors, I'm being watched by a flattened, shapeless figure, as my own reflected image. Confused, I look through the mirrors and I see the figure move away quickly, but at the same time stand back to me at the entrance of the labyrinth of ivy.

I hesitate for a moment. Should I follow him? Is it real? His back can be anyone, I could not see straight ... I decide to go back and start a quickly journey deep down in the labyrinth. Ivy is high, doesn't see the outside, I only hear a diffuse music in the distance, coming from an barrel organ. With all this shuffling my mind, I swim into the labyrinth, trying to follow the sound of footsteps on the gravel path, trying to find out which entrance he caught... But he who? Who do you looking for, Helen? Who?

I run a little more, try to follow the steps, I walk with ease in this labyrinth, I run because I see no option, I need to know what I'm looking for, but I stop when I get to the center of the labyrinth, or at least seems to be. There is no escape, only if I go back to where I entered. I Give half back, when I see in the distance, a figure standing with a cigarette in hand, staring at me... Yes, this figure is remarkably familiar to me. He is all in black, with a long cardigan that goes up to his legs, a formal hat, and that familiar face I know so well...

I mean, I can't see straight because of the hat and also because his hand is in front of his mouth with the cigarette. It also seems to be an older guy, but then I remember of the past and this gives me even more afraid because, after all, if he is aged now is because he's still alive! I can clearly see his eyes ... Oh, the eyes. I never forgot those eyes. The colder look, devoid of anything not hate, those deeper blue eyes, that would be pretty if didn't cause me so much fright. Those eyes wouldn't be to anyone else. I'm not mistaken, I know what I saw.

- Herr... Herr Kommandant?

The apparition took his hand away from his mouth, blew smoke in the air and gave a wicked smile. Thus, face to face, 11 years later, victim and executioner, eye to eye, eye to eye ...

- Lena!

I swear I heard it again, I swear he said my name! I mean, that was never my name, it was a mockery that he used to call me when he was too lazy to say my name, my real name. He called me by a nickname that I hated and I'm sure he did that I had no doubts. No one else called me that.

I dind't allow myself paralyzed there, I needed to understand what was happening, but all I could do was see him out of my sight, give me back and disappearing labyrinth inside, as if it was even an appearance out from the dead, or as Hades out of hell, to give warning to Persephone, the warning that was always hanging around me and I didn't realize, I had no awareness, the warning came in the form of anxiety, telling me that he, if it could possible, if it were really possible, would looking for me, would, like the greek god of death and war, to get me to take me with him.

The warning that lived in my innermost nightmares! It was he, no doubt, It was he! I fell heavily on my knees against the rocks and let my entire body cry ... I knew he was back.

It was there that I knew he came to get me!