Reyna Feldman, a twenty year old Jewish girl from the tiniest of villages in France, is on the run. Captured by German soldiers while trying to escape over the border, she's taken to an internment camp in Freiburg, Germany, where she meets SS Philli...
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Happy Wednesday!! Here's another short update for you guys! I've had so much fun writing these last few days while I've been off work! The motivation just keeps coming, and ya'll's support and comments have helped so much! Let me know what you think, and hopefully you'll be seeing another update from me later on today! :)
Twigs snapped underneath her feet as she darted through the trees. Her legs burned as they propelled her forward, Sela keeping in step beside her, their hands clasped tightly together as they ran for the train. Her father, mother, and Uri were already on board, her father's hand outstretched, ready for them to grab hold of.
"We're not going to make it!" Sela gasped out as another string of gunshots sounded off behind them. She could hear the soldier's footsteps behind them now. They were gaining on them.
"Just keep going," She ground out, her lungs burning with each clipped breath of freezing air she inhaled. They had to make it. They had to. Reaching for her father's outstretched hand, her finger tips grazed his. Faster. They had to run faster.
Breaking into a full sprint, she heaved them both forward, closing the few inches of distance. Reaching out again, her hand found it's mark, and in a few short seconds her father had pulled them both into the car.
Except he hadn't pulled them both into the car. It had only been Reyna.
No. Where was Sela? Where was her sister?
It was her mother's scream she heard first. She turned to look. Sela lay on the ground, two soldiers pressing their entire weight on top of her as they bound her hands behind her back. Jerking her up off the ground, they began to drag her away.
"No," She shook her head. "No. Stop. STOP!" She tore her eyes away from her sister, fixing them firmly on her father. "Make them stop the train! They have to stop the train!"
He wasn't looking at her. Wasn't reacting to a word she said.
"Da! Make them stop!" She was screaming now. "They have to stop!"
"Reyna," A voice sounded from somewhere far away. She watched as her sister and the soldiers began to fade in the distance. "Reyna, wake up!" The voice spoke again, this time closer. She blinked. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen. "Wake up!" The voice called a third time.
~
Reyna's eyes flew open, as she bolted upright in bed. She blinked, her chest still heaving from the nightmare she'd been in just seconds before.
"It was just a dream," Phillip's voice called from beside her. He'd placed a soothing hand against her back. "It was just a dream," He repeated.
She locked her eyes with his, the lines between what was real and what was not still blurred as she tried to steady herself. It had been a dream. Just a dream. He held her gaze unflinchingly as she worked to slow her breathing.
Once her head was finally clear, she studied him more closely. He was wearing pajamas, his hair more disheveled than she'd ever seen it, as though moments ago he'd been fast asleep in his own bed. How had he known she was having a nightmare? Had she been crying out in her sleep and woken him up? She looked away, embarrassed at the thought.
"Do they happen often?" He asked, finally breaking the silence. "The nightmares?"
She looked back at him, nodding in reply. She'd had nightmares nearly every night since she'd arrived here. They happened so frequently, she'd grown accustomed to them by now. Some of them she wasn't able to recall once she'd awake, but others - others were permanantely seared into her brain.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His brow was creased in worry. How bad had it actually been for him to be this genuinely concerned?
"I dreamed it was my sister who got pulled from the train," She said, letting the words tumble out without a second thought. "Instead of me."
"You were screaming in your sleep," He said softly, removing his hand from her back. Had it been there the whole time?
"I was screaming for them to stop the train," She explained, staring blankly at her hands, which rested limply in her lap. "But it didn't. It just kept going."
Her eyes stung with tears. It was a dream. Just a dream. Blinking them away, she drew in a deep breath. Phillip's hand slipped into her view, engulfing her own hand as he rested his on top.
"It's never the same one." Her voice was nearly a whisper. Looking up from their hands, she met his gaze. "The nightmares - it's always a different one the next night."
His eyes searched her's, but he didn't speak, sensing there was more she wanted to say - needed to say.
"But this was the first time something horrible happened to someone I love, instead of me." Maybe talking about her sister earlier that night had awoken something in her subconscious - some deep seeded fear. She looked away, back to the hand that was holding her's.
"You love your sister very much," He said, interrupting the silence that had overtaken the room.
"I missed her birthday," She said, more to herself than to Phillip. "I don't even know if she was alive to celebrate it," She admitted quietly. Phillip had told her that no other prisoners had been taken from the train that day. But what happened after, she didn't know - couldn't know. And she hated it. Hated that, for all she knew, her entire family had been captured or killed. She bit back the tears that were threatening to fall again.
"Tell me about her," Phillip said, squeezing her hand gently. "Your sister."
Her gaze met his. His lips were turned up into a soft, encouraging smile. She stared at those lips in silence. It had only been a dream - just a dream. But this - this was real. He was real, and he was hear now. And she was thankful for that. Thankful that he'd come when she'd needed someone - needed him. So she told him about Sela. How they'd grown close after her brother had died. How they'd grown up together. How they'd celebrated their birthdays together every year. The ways they were different - the ways they were similar. She told him everything, his hand never leaving her's, until her eyes grew heavy and sleep overtook her.
