It truly was the most powerful thing on the planet.
To her it was, it was her opinion, but maybe it was a universal feeling.
Some things could be forgotten in a matter of minutes, yet other things stuck in your memory for you're whole lifetime.
They say 'time heals all wounds' but sometimes it just causes them to grow to unbearable sizes, until you feel like your heart is being ripped out, until you feel as if you're falling apart at the seams.
It had only been less than a year though. Less than 365 ¼ days. The earth had not made one revolution around the sun. It felt like forever though. Actually it felt as if absolutely no time had passed, none at all.
She could still picture him perfectly in her mind. Green speckled gray eyes holding such an intense amount of feeling it nearly knocked her of her feet…it nearly took the air from her lungs…it…For once in her life she didn't have some other phrase or word.
Her mind was like a storm at sea. Her thoughts crashed and mingled just as the gray blue waves of the water.
His eyes had looked gray-blue that day. That day when she brought him the shirt she had bought for her father. The shirt had made his eyes seem like the brightest blue, but they gray was still there. The gray was always there. Like some type of sorrow that stayed with him no matter where, no matter what.
She couldn't even begin to imagine all he had been through in his life. She didn't want to believe he had volunteered to be in the army. She knew he didn't volunteer. Everything he had told her went against that. Strongly went against. From the conversations they had shared she knew he was a pacifist. She knew he was interested in peace.
Yet, she didn't know. He never really liked to talk about the war, so she never really pressed the matter. Talk of his family always made him happier, and so she stuck with asking questions about them. And from those questions she felt as if she knew each and everyone of them. Not that he had a large family, but it was a bit to keep track of.
Erikson Karl. Deborah Aisling. Hannah Lorelei.
And then they all shared the same last name: Reiker.
Except, Mrs. Reiker- Deborah's maiden last name was 'Fletcher', which he had described as 'quite a common last name in England'.
Actually. She did know. From the last long conversation she had with him. The one Ruth had been part of. "I believe that love is better than hate. And that there's more nobility in building a chicken coop then destroying a cathedral" he had said. And there had been other things he had said that proved it as well, but she didn't really remember everything he had said. She tried to but no one could remember all that. He had opened her mind to so much more. He had taught her that there were different places in the world, different types of people. He taught her that it was okay to ask questions, even if you think they're stupid ones.
He proved to her that there are people in thus world that actually do love her, that actually care about what happens to her. And in her mind that's the most valuable thing in the world.
Of course, the ring is quite valuable too. But in a different sense. The ring is a material possession, while his words and lessons are permanently engraved into her mind.
Sometimes she wishes it wasn't. Sometimes she curls her fingers over the ring, feeling the cool metal against her skin. It reminds her of that fateful night when he left. Sometimes thoughts about him stay uninterrupted in her mind for hours; sometimes she wishes things were different, and that they were together in Germany.
Every since she first meet him she has seen Germany as the place she is meant to be. She can't even imagine that it's as he said it was, in that one deeply saddening conversation. He said that towns had been destroyed, cities and villages as well. That the plants didn't survive, that the plants couldn't survive, especially after so many walking over them. That the people were hollow shells that they chose not to burden themselves with to many emotions. There wasn't large amounts of food anywhere, and it didn't bother anyone. Eating wasn't something they thought about.
No. Those people had more important things to think about. They chose to think about their loved ones, many who had been taken away for protesting the war or had died fighting in it. Some had even been lucky enough to escape over the borders.
That wasn't how she envisioned it. She envisioned it as before that. A large, elegant house not far from the University. Cities, towns, and villages overflowing with grace and kindness. People ready to welcome her into their lives.
It was all just a daydream of hers. She had this one constantly. She thought about him constantly. And more than once she found herself wishing she didn't. She just couldn't take it. All the unanswered questions, all the worrisome thoughts that plagued her mind. She could remember his lessons and their conversations, she could remember him, but nothing— absolutely nothing answered these questions. Made them go away.
And, oh! How she wished they were gone. It was bad enough he was gone, but did she really have to bother herself with all these answerless questions?
She did. She was going to keep doing it, no matter how the questions bothered her. No matter how much the potential answers bothered her.
The most frequent happened to be;;
Was he doing okay? Was he happy? Had he forgotten about her?
And the most dreaded, most constant one that made her shake in fear. The one that sent shivers down her spine and made her want to…made her want to disappear;;
Was he…Was he dead?
DISCLAIMER;; I own none of the characters currently written about. My first name is not Bette and my last name is not Greene.
edited june 5th 2010
- pg. 134, Summer of My German Soldier
Hmm, probably seems a little out of character…or a lot.
Well, I've been wanting to do one of these for a while, but I've just been so absolutely busy with school and other stories held priority over this but, in just two hours of writing I've finally have a prologue.
However, I know not whether I should have dear Mr. Frederick Anton Reiker dead. I have a few ideas in my head to how he might still be alive, but there all very…ehh.
Anyway, I chose second names for Deborah and Hannah, Deborah's being pronounced 'ASH-ling' and Hannah's being pronounced 'LORE-uh-lie'. 'Aisling' is of Gaelic origin, while 'Lorelei' is of German. I also came up with Deborah's maiden name, choosing 'Fletcher' because it is quite common in England [or so I believe].
I hope to have the first chapter up soon [by Monday],