Pskov, Russia
No one had expected the Germans to come so soon .
No one knew the Germans would defeat Russia so easily.
Katja Kuznetsova is a nineteen year old girl whose brother enlisted in the Russian army. Surviving the cold Russian winter by h...
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When Nikolai had left, he had given me a small hand gun for protection. He handed it to me saying it was for defense purposes when needed. A unsettling feeling has resided in my stomach since that day, knowing a weapon was in the house. But now the feeling was worse, knowing that I would have to hide it from the Germans. Although orders were given for all residents to turn in weapons, I had no eagerness to turn in mine.
Therefore it remained in the little nook that was tucked into the inner left hand side of the fireplace. All I had were six bullets to protect myself from an army of sex craved, egoistical, and narcissistic Germans.
The afternoon sun shown through the windows as I still laid in bed, tucked underneath the bear fur blanket, that was one of the prized possessions of my father. The fur was rich and smooth, its velvet texture kissing my skin. I lacked the much needed motivation to get out of bed and prepare myself for another walk into the village to have myself "registered" with the Germans.
Taking one last moment to appreciate the current warmness of my bed, I slowly stretched my arms above my head while lifting the upper part of my body up. Swinging my legs over the sides goosebumps formed as my feet touched the ground. Through the little slit of the curtain where the winter sun shown through, I admired the peaceful afternoon that was upon us. If I hadn't known the Germans were only ten minutes away from me, it would have been another peaceful day.
My bones seemed to creak as I lazily stood myself up. Still sitting on the edge of my bed, I pulled my last good pair of stockings over my legs where the goosebumps and hair stiffened due to the shiver that traveled throughout my body. I was gentle with the thin material as I had no idea when the next time would be when I could buy new stockings.
The war had a way of taking things so basic away.
Pulling the stockings over my legs, I hooked them onto my underwear. Taking off the long gown that I wore for bed, I stood in front of the mirror examining my body.
Skin and bones.
My skin stayed the white color it was as it was stretched over my ribcage and hipbones. The sight almost made me want to cry as the pain of hunger was sharp in my stomach. My chest area had significantly lost weight as my breasts looked as if they belonged on a young girl. I never had a filled out body due to the lack of nutrition but never once in my life did I ever feel so deprived.
Tracing the tiny moles that covered my stomach, I thought of when my father used to blow raspberry kisses on my stomach to make me laugh. His whiskers tickling my skin. My collarbone stood out proudly and prominent. My cheekbones defined and sharp. My dark hair wild and matted.
Turning towards the wooden chair in my room where my black cotton dress was, I took the soft material into my hands and pulled it over my body so I no longer had to stare at it. The dress hung limply over my body but I quickly covered it by placing my black coat over the dress and buttoning it up. My mothers brush laid in my hand as I gently brushed my hair the best I could to untangle the long roots. My hair brittle and dry had no mercy under the harsh bristles of the brush. Finishing, I tucked the hair behind my ears before draping it over my shoulders.
