Schatzi

14

9th November, 1938

As soon as he was sure Peter had gone downstairs, Eli jumped to his feet, getting dressed and grabbing his coat from where it was hidden in their closet, Star of David sewn onto the thick material. He walked down the stairs, unseen by everyone, and was out of the door and down the street with no issues.

He just needed some time to think. Just to be alone. He usually didn't walk the streets by himself, especially at night, but right now the thought of going on a long moonlit walk with Peter made him want to throw up.

It was cold, and the sharp wind bit at his exposed cheeks. He drew his coat tighter around himself, walking briskly to try warm up.

He didn't know where he was going. He was just walking with no purpose, praying he didn't get beaten up or shot.

Speaking of which, there'd been talk, rumours, of a new form of punishment for people the Nazis hated. Camps of some kind, where they rounded them up and put them to work. If it was real, everyone was being very hush hush about it. If it did exist, it wasn't like anyone who'd experienced it was there to tell them. If the SS took you, to a camp or somewhere else, you didn't come back.

Over the years, they'd lost 5 of their little gay group. They took people away and tortured them, asked them for more names. He guessed Jens had given in eventually because after that arrest on his nineteenth birthday when Ronan was shot and Jens was arrested, a month later, another 4 disappeared out of nowhere, all in one night.

But now the numbers were increasing, and if these camps really did exist, it was only going to get worse.

As he walked, he was hardly aware of the people running past him in the street. In the opposite direction to where he was going. He was completely oblivious to it.

And then he smelt the smoke.

It was everywhere, casting a thick shadow over the city, blocking out the streetlights and the stars, making him cough and splutter. He pulled the top of his coat over his nose and mouth and ran towards where it was all coming from.

Spiralling, twisting, orange flames rose from the synagogue where he'd gone with his mother as a child. She'd insisted that he go with her every single time, no matter how much his father protested. Slowly, he'd started going less and less but it was still a place filled with happy memories that were burning along with the building. He could do nothing but stare in horror as the flames spread, engulfing the whole thing. There was a long, loud creaking noise that was followed by a deathly silence, like the earth had stopped for a second. And then the roof caved in.

The great noise echoed around the streets, bringing people nearby to look out their windows and run out of their houses. They quickly ran back inside though when they realised what was going on. But there were some people who had the courage to watch.

There was a tiny crowd of less than 10 people, gathered in front of the synagogue, completely helpless to do anything but watch. Some prayed, some, like Eli, could do nothing but stare at the wreckage in shock.

He stepped backwards, shaking his head slowly, unable to process what was going on. Because it wasn't just the one building. It was every Jewish shop and house on this street. And as he continued walking, he realised it was more than just the one street. All over the city, shops and houses and businesses had been set alight.

His uncle.

Oh god oh god oh shit.

He lived nearby here, above the shop that was his life, and Eli's as well now. But he lived there, he actually lived there. And if the fucking Nazis had set the shop on fire, his uncle would be trapped. He'd be dead.