The Bright Colours of Misery [COMPLETED]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 -the alarms-

Heidi finished her handmade sketchbook almost completely in two days time and once they said goodbye to Wilma and Walter at the train station, I noticed Wilma had slipped it back into her purse, for reasons that remained up to my imagination. The leading hypothesis being that she wanted something to remind her of her sister with her at all times, which this little book was perfect for. Heidi had already expressed it was a shame she had finished it so quickly, since she couldn't use it anymore and she never noticed its absence after it was gone and done.

Two weeks after Wilma and Walter had left, the alarms started. Alarms during the day, alarms during the night, resonating through the air mercilessly. They had started in Berlin years ago, Wilma often told Heidi all about them, sometimes they were nothing but drills, and sometimes they weren't.  The town had prepared for them ages ago, but until the beginning of 1943 they had never been necessary inside Heidi's little hometown. It all started at school, at about 2 o'clock. Heidi was chatting Tilda quietly, chewing on her pencil.

"Do you think anyone actually likes maths?" She asked her, looking down at her paper and back at the board—which was filled with algebraic equations—frantically.

Tilda raised her eyebrows.
"I love maths." She said, looking over at friend's empty sheet.

"Here, let me help you-"

Suddenly, the sound invaded the classroom. The wailing of a threatening alarm piercing my dear person's ears. It didn't stop, it persisted minute after minute and panic rose. The teacher didn't look any calmer than the students. Everyone looked at each other simultaneously. What were they supposed to do? They knew what this meant. They knew exactly what horror might be coming their way, but it had never happened before.

"Frau?" Frieda inquired, her eyes desperately trying to catch the gaze of her teacher.

The older woman abruptly turned to her, her eyes wide.

"What do we do?" Frieda asked, getting increasingly panicked for every second that went on. The alarm kept blaring through the sky incessantly, and the class grew increasingly agitated and terrified by the minute. Their poor teacher had taken quite a shock initially, but after what must have been five minutes, she snapped out of it and turned to face her now incredibly pale students.

"Line up calmly, we're going to the school's shelter." She ordered firmly. Heidi quickly found Tilda's sweating hand and squeezed it so tight it might have turned blue. Tilda didn't make any eye contact with Heidi, she kept her eyes looking right in front of her, fear had quickly overridden confusion in her case.

Once all the students had lined up in rows of two, the teacher opened the door and led them through the corridors with hurried steps.

Heidi took a few deep breaths as she felt panic rise within her, she reasoned with her irrational worries and detailed horrific scenarios.

It will be fine, that won't happen here, why would the allies even want to drop bombs here? She asked herself, I must admit it didn't truly help, she was still tense and anxious, the alarm seemed to have that effect on people.

After walking down many stairs Heidi didn't even know existed, Heidi's class met one of the younger year groups. Most of the poor kids were crying, asking for their mothers, or their older siblings. However, the teachers quickly made it clear:

You could not mix age groups or classes,

which meant older students couldn't go comfort their smaller siblings with a hug, or even a handhold. Heidi thanked god her Manfred and Gisela were much older than they once had been. Mafred was already 12, they could look after themselves, even in situations like these. It would have broken Heidi's heart to watch him as a six year old crying for their mother as these alarms blared over their heads.

The air in the school's newly discovered underground smelled of crisp dirt and humidity. The stone walls dripped of water, but the sound of the small drops falling onto the concrete floor could not possibly be heard over the ambient muffled alarms. Heidi wondered when that low and constant wailing would stop, as she looked around, searching for colours that would make this experience less unbearable. She even took off her glasses, to see it all less clearly.

"What are you doing, heidi?" Tilda whispered at her urgently, as she noticed something was missing from her face.
"Nothing," Heidi said, squeezing her hand slightly, hoping it might have been a comforting gesture.

"You took your glasses off-"

"Everyone! Listen up!" A teacher Heidi recognised very well yelled, it washer dear Frau Meyer, also known as Gertrude or even Edith  by some. Her voice echoes through the strange tunnel-like space they found themselves in.

"We'll seat you inside the shelter according to year group, the younger ones will go first, wait your turn patiently, this is probably just a drill, they've been happening all around the country for years, has everyone understood?"

All the children nodded, a weak collective mumble went through the room. It resembled a 'yes' and sometimes even a 'understood'. However, there were many questions, which caused worry, the dominating one being:

What if it wasn't a drill?

What would happen if it was real? Were they truly safe from explosions here? Were their parents safe? After a while Tilda led Heidi to a wooden seat on the long benches that stretched through the shelter. They sat there for an hour, or a little more, as time went on, and nothing happened, fear dissipated. Everyone had a chance to calm down. When they finally got to leave and go home slightly early, Heidi felt light with relief as she skipped down the street, glad those familiar blocks of colours surrounding her were still standing.

Once the children entered the house, Trudy ran to them almost immediately.

"Oh my darlings," She whispered as the youngest clung to her and Frieda and Heidi joined the collective hug. She reassured them, telling them there was absolutely nothing to worry about, although that was a lie. She told them every single alarm would be nothing but a drill, and that in case it wasn't that they had nothing to fear as long as they made it to a shelter in time.

Two nights later, the alarms blared through the sky once more, Frieda and Heidi shot out of their beds like arrows, and made sure to reassure their sister and brother, although Gisela seemed to have more clarity on what to do in this situation than any of them. She was the one to go downstairs and put her coat over her nightgown first, even before Trudy could do so, and she was the one to bring a feeble little oil lamp with her, as she trailed before the family, finding her way to the shelter.

Frieda and Heidi shot quick glances at each other, in a both concerned yet admitting manner. The reason for Gisela's efficiency in joining the safe shelter was simple. Gisela Seide wanted to live, and had understood long ago that this war might get in the way of that, one way or another. She wasn't taking any risks, or losing any time.

The shelter on apfestraße was nothing but a basement—that had been deemed deep enough for bomb protection—where Herr Wolf kept his potato reserve, which had shrunk a lot over the course of the past years.

After a few minutes, the damp basement had filled with every single person living on the street. It was a bit small but Heidi imagined it could have been so much worse. In the dim lit darkness she quickly found Alexander, and they whispered quietly to each other until the alarms stopped and everyone got up to finally leave and go back to bed. The younger children rubbed their tired eyes and their mother's picked them up, however, herr Wolff, that old paranoid man refused to open the door until they were a hundred percent sure the alarm wouldn't come back. I can clearly recall heidi saying:

"I could get used to waiting in this basement, but I'll never get used to that old man's antics." to Alexander in a whisper.

The first time they actually heard bombs falling in the distance, the basement suddenly went quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, even the heavy breath of each person hiding in the dark seemed to have stopped. Frieda squeezed Heidi's hand tightly, Heidi could hear her sister counting the explosions under her breath, and as she looked over at her mother, she saw her rarely noticed rosary,gently held between her hands in, as she recited the prayers she knew, going down each bead carefully.

"Mama?" Heidi said, her voice carrying just enough for Trudy to look up at her. Heidi gently reached her hand out to her, and for a second, Trudy smiled and gripped it tightly, putting the beaded string down.

Suddenly, the alarm stopped.