"You are burning" those words echoed like incessant bells inside her head, she could feel under her feet the imaginary trail of heat that fuel creates before it bursts into flames.
I didn't want to be afraid of her, I wanted to give her a life worth living, but I dragged her into the fire, the cold, the mud, the agonizing wounds and groans of war. She learned, first of all, before anything else that her life was disposable, that her heart was beating for whoever would declare himself her master, that she was never worthy of being looked upon with love.
Someone like her, what she would know about love, if she didn't even have a name. Up to that point we Dietfried and I were so different, who could imagine that we were twin brothers, when he was so cold and distant, almost like an iceberg floating lonely in the middle of the sea. So poor of humanity this man who called himself my brother, who would so bravely give his life for his country and yet had scorned this little girl as if she was trash.
"violet, will be your name from now on" and I really wanted that one day she could live for that name that had been given to her, because that name gave her the chance of a new life, of freedom.
But I was afraid of her, I could not look at her in any other way than with terror. Terror that by my side she would continue to lose the childhood that had already been taken away from her, that by my side she would continue to be alone and lose the little humanity that still existed in her.
The soldier's clothes she was given were always too big for her, but that did not stop the speed of her attacks, nor did it make her slower or clumsier on the battlefield. She always looked at me like a dog waiting for her master to give the command and lightning she hated that her only motivation was to hear me say "kill".
I wished life for herself and instead with me every day could be her last. I vehemently wished not to see her smile after every battle, I did not expect her or me to find happiness in the midst of a war, and here we are, in this circumstance that terrifies me, watching her glow while under her hand hundreds of corpses fell.
Her hands do not tremble at the certainty of having taken a life, her mind seems to be always serene and calm, it does not waver.
It was then that I saw her, that spark that could at any moment be extinguished.
"It's masters eyes" and she was looking at something with the look that children have when they want something impatiently, for the first time her dark blue eyes, shone against mine.
As I got closer, I could notice that she was pointing to a jewel, which was undoubtedly the same color as my eyes, violet never asked for anything, that gift would be decisive in my new decision.
"live, from the bottom of my heart, violet, live."