1942, Augsburg

″Heil Hitler.” The senior commander’s hoarse voice reflected within the walls of the ominous camp, designed to segregate the unworthy souls from the superior Aryans. The day was cloudy- the first raindrops slowly splashed against the concrete floors. But no rains or thunderstorms could cease the never-ending toil of the impure souls. Deemed to suffer, struggle and serve the worthy, they lived enclosed in a cage, from where there was no escape. Their lives belonged to the Fuhrer- he owned them, puppets to please his terrifying fantasies.

But little Charles always craved to know more about the world outside. Having never seen the light of the day, except through the cracked walls or the windows up high, he dreamt every night of seeing the world through his own eyes. His heart ached to feel the heat of the sun and the calm of the woods. But all he ever knew was the icy rails, the rotten slices of leftover bread and the horrifying voices of the brutal soldiers. He would never see what was outside those electric fences.

No matter their tender age, the militants never heeded to their hopeless cries. The children were lost, alone and had nothing to call a family anymore. Guns and explosions slaughtered whatever they had in their lives once- their homes, their families, their friends, everything. They made a single mistake, one they could never control- they were born Jews. And hence, they were destined to breathe the rest of their lives under someone’s feet.

However, young Charles was determined this time, and nothing in this world could hinder him from taking on this suicide mission, not even his friends, not even Juliet. He had to get out there in the world, and after tonight, he knew he might never have the chance again. It was his final ray of hope. Every year, on the 20th of April, the soldiers put on a celebration, glorifying yet another year’s fulfilment in the Fuhrer’s life. They would deliver speeches on how dignified his vision was, why Jews were souls to condemn, and how Germany would rise to the top of the world. And the hustles and bustles of the day were more than enough for a four-feet child to earn his redemption, or so Charles believed.

And as days passed away one by one, Charles grew more and more closer towards his salvation. He was about to experience the light and warmth of the sun, away from the frozen cells. None accompanied him in this dangerous endeavour, but little Charles was confident that his plans could work out. On the night before his flight, he spoke with his friends for one last time. He tried to convince them to join him in this attempt, but they had chosen to rot their lives away in the ice-cold dungeons, all except Juliet. After Charles’ persuasion for days, she ultimately agreed to follow him on this fatal mission.

Finally, the dawn arrived. When the sun rises in the east, Charles and Juliet would be far away from the brutal lives they lived together. They would open their eyes to a whole new world, one where no one would torture them until they pass out, one where they are free. Before the soldiers appeared to wake the children out of their innocent slumber, the two ran off through the doorways and halls that led to the back door where the fences were left unmended. The commotions of the arrangements had taken almost all the soldiers off the camp’s insides, making their trails a lot clearer.

Charles and Juliet ultimately stood near the back door, where all the regiment vehicles remained. They were a single run away towards their freedom, away from their tumultuous childhood. Juliet held his hand, unable to believe that they succeeded in performing something implausible. She looked him in his eyes, with tears of inexplicable happiness, holding to him even tighter to ensure herself that she was not fantasising about what she saw. They took off one last time to their liberation- their little footsteps resounding within the chamber, hardly containing their squeaks of joy, feeling the cold wind rush against them. They could see the sun peeking at them from behind the hills- the only witness of their story of survival.

Suddenly, two gunshots echoed within the room, accompanied by the cry of agony from a little girl. Charles fell on the damp floor along with Juliet, her hands still holding him tight. The bullets carved holes on her childish frame, blood gushing out of her mouth. But she was not grieving- the pain of slowly succumbing to her death was not present on her face. But she quietly looked at him, a smile of hope lingering on her face. She uttered two final words before the soldier grasped him away from her hold, despite his screams and pleading, leaving her to a lonely death, ”Thank you.”

2012, Grindelwald

Something shook Charles out of his nightmare, one that he found himself in every night. The room was small, just enough for Charles to barely move around. With little furniture and no memoirs from the past, it was as if he spent his days and nights in a hotel room. Someone has drawn the curtains back despite him telling them never to do so. The lights were unbearable for the elderly gentleman, especially the sun rays. He firmly believed that the radiations would burn him to the core, make him feel all the agony- he could never remember why.

Charles shakily stood up, desperately waving his hands in the air for support. But there never was a shoulder. He tumbled on the wooden floor, pain surging through his delicate ribs and knees. He slithered, with all his effort, to a corner where the sun could not hurt him. He pulled down an old, dirty rug and sheltered himself under the darkness. Knees close to the chest, he could never let the rays touch him- they would kill him.

Memories distorted, legs unable to carry his weight, trembling hands, weak eyesight and senses- he was now a crippling senior man who awaited his death to arrive and carry him away. He could never remember what he passed through in the past, except during the nights when he endured the terrors of his former life every day. But when he woke up, all of them would be gone. He could never remember why he was panting heavily every morning. He could only remember a name, Juliet, and that he could never feel the sun.

#####

Thanks to Reedsy.com for this amazing prompt (Write about a character who thinks they have a sun allergy) which helped me to write another story after a considerably long time. I really, really needed this push. Well, I have to return the favour, of course. I mean, I wouldn’t really mind. It was a huge help. Thank you, Reedsy ^-^ Well, we can all find such amazing prompts right there:

https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts

P.S: I am not an advert. This is me, myself XD And by God, I missed you all so, so much <3 I have a lot and a lot and a lot to tell ^-^

#fiction

She walked in fields of quiet

hands outstretched,

searching,

searching for something she could not know.

She choked on ache

and swallowed hard all hurts she bore.

Sometimes she would inhale stones just to feel the heart of the Earth in her breast.

Mothers never tell their daughters what sadness is

until they find it,

naked in their bed.

I am the queen,

Of my little town

I am the queen,

Without a crown!

The hut is my palace,

The chair is my throne

My people have no malice,

My people never frown!

In my queendom

Of love and joy,

There is wit and wisdom

In every girl and boy.

I am no Helen,

I am no Psyche

For I rule the haven,

A place many seek.

That’s who I am,

The queen of my town

And that’s what I am,

A queen without a crown!

Tick, Tock

Goes the clock

I got no piece

Here’s a poem, at least.

Tick, Tock

Crows the cock

Time is out

Let's not pout.

Tick, Tock

Writer's Block

Let's move on

Before it flicks on.

My frustration mounts like the paint I keep adding to this canvas.

One minute I have it and the next minute I don’t.

The something I’m searching to achieve seems to fade into a space it’s not meant to be.

My perception: marred and skewed.

I wonder if it’s like the delay in your day that is divinely sent to align something really amazing to happen?

Or is it more like being forced to buy a new car after totaling the one you just paid off?

So, I’ve reached the point where the decision is mine alone to make.

To persevere or to start over.

Either way the work that I’ve put into it will still be left to linger upon the canvas.

Just how much of that work will remain to be seen?

Well, that solely depends on the layers of paint I add in between.

the world was bright,

she knew~

something

beautiful and brilliant,

that she had heard

stories of

before she even knew

what they meant

but she'd known the comfort

of the filmy black cloth

for

much

too

long.

Alright, I have never used an emoji in the title before! It looks cute ^-^ Anyway, let me come back to the point. So, I took a long break, from Prose, the month before the last, because of my then-upcoming exams. But they got postponed, and I came back up!

Well, the exams are now coming back again! (God, why? XD) And this time, I don’t think they are leaving. Again, this is one of the most important exams in my life, so I cannot even think about taking a risk! So, here we go again! I am taking a break for a month!

But this is pretty much like a final one in the foreseeable future. I mean, after these finals, everything takes up a lot of time. So this time, when I come back, I am coming to stay for a very, very long time! (For example, not like what I just did ^-^) And that’s a piece of happy news for me, yeah! I get to stay around longer when I come back ^-^

But until then, it’s about time for me to start devouring books again. No, no, no! Please don’t try to imagine that. Oh, I should have given the warning first! *facepalm* Anyway, until we see again, bye for a while, my dear lovely, amazing, supportive, beautiful, cuddly, cute, adorable bunch of Prosers! (which includes me, of course, ^-^)

PS: If there is any concern about the schedule of the group project, don’t worry. Though the coordinator is not here, the boss is! Verity will sort it out. All it takes is a small rearrangement! Love ya, guys ^-^

#nonfiction

I write hordes of romantic things about you all the time. I even gifted you an entire book of romantic poetry.

Which you ignored, because you "never have time to read"

My love, I fear my talents may lay wasted on you - however, were you not with me, I would lose my muse to write in the first place.

After spending a Sunday out at Chick-fil-A, you find that you child has gone missing.

There are three suspects; your maid, butler and cook, each one saying they were doing sometime else at the time.

Your maid explained they were dusting in the back room, the butler stated he was vaccuming the back hallway, and the cook said he had been making a snack for your child.

Based on alibies, who comitted the crime?

stars in his eyes

he doesnt know

that every night

i pray that they shine

for me

stars in his eyes

they twinkle so bright

that even the moon

is jealous that she

doesnt shed that

kind of light

"there's stars in your eyes"

he tells me and when

we make eye contact

supernovas take place

and i can feel it through

out my body

- so this is love?