The Worst of Love

The worst of love
And the sorrow of a dove
The passion of a rebel
And the sanity of a pebble
The stillness of a stream
And the shrill of a scream
The heat of the night
And the cool of the light
The pain of his words
And the strike of his blows.
Don't want to go forwards
As the pain only rose
Up to my heart
Under my skin
Draining you out of  my heart
All that is left is skin

This is the story of how I tried to stop WWIII. {short story}

I had read about the Holocaust in school. I saw the pictures, read the bios and even visited the memorial. Throughout the whole time I was grateful that it would never happen again or at least not in my time. I had never imagined that not only was I wrong but I would be dragged into it.

This is the story of how I tried to stop WWIII.

Oct. 4th, 2014
          My family and I were visiting my grandparents in Russia. For as long as I can remember they have lived in that house. Four stories with a basement, cellar, attic, and greenhouse. It reminded me of the Beast's mansion in "Beauty and the Beast". Beautiful and welcoming in the day and demented at night. My grandmother was always in the kitchen. "Where women belong" she would say. It makes me laugh now that I know better.
   I was never allowed in my grandfather's study. Then again I wasn't allowed any where unless it was to clean or tidy up. As ridiculous as I thought it was I obeyed. Respecting your elders was big in my family. Almost religiously so. 
   I was giving my grandfather his mid-day coffee when I heard a bit of his conversation with my uncles and brothers. 
"Don't let them fool you boys," He shook his finger at them. "don't trust a Frenchmen." I giggled. My grandfather slapped my arm. "Get out of here girl." I left promising my self never to pay any mind to the men's conversations.

Dec. 24th, 2014
       For Christmas break we were again at my grandparents. Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday. It was left uncelebrated because everyone forgot. At first I thought i might be getting a surprise party but then it got late...and later, until everyone finally went to bed. Back home in the US, being 16 was a big deal in fact the had a huge party just for that birthday. I had asked my mom once in the beginning of the year she had said she would think about it. Obviously she needed more time. Sitting at breakfast with the family, grandparents on either end of the table. Men on one side women on the other, couples sat across from each other or siblings. I sat next to my mother and a cousin, trying not to cry. I sniffed and Grandfather slammed his cup down.

"Felicia! Handle your daughter. I would like to enjoy my meal without any disruptions." My mother sent me to bed.

Dec. 25th, 2014

       My grandmother handed out the gifts after breakfast. I received a cookbook, just a cook book. I snapped, dropping the book I stormed out of the room. I heard heavy footsteps behind me but didn't pay any mind. Tears ran down my cheeks as I felt an ache in my chest I dropped to the floor on the third flight of stairs. I cried and cried. The footstep walked past me and kept going. It made it worse, knowing that no one had cared to follow me to ask what was wrong. I ran to my room and for the rest of the holiday stayed there.

March 18th, 2015

        Today Russia invaded France, Germany, Belgium, Poland, Ukraine, Belarus and Romania. Its allies were Hungary, Austria, Czech Rep. and Italy. The United States government had broad casted a message stating that all Russian born citizens were to be deported back to Russia. My mother packed up me and my three older brothers. We drove to the airport, our father was to meet us there. I dreaded the trip especially because I would see my grandfather again.

Jan. 12th, 2017

         I rode my bike to deliver a message to the embassy. Russia had dropped a nuclear bomb on Beijing, China and El Paso, Texas, USA. Both countries had surrendered and Russia had become a great empire. I was torn between my people and the country I was raised in. When I reached the Embassy there was a young man there. He was hand cuffed to a bench with an armed guard next to him. I gave the secretary the letter from my grandfather and sat on the bench across from the arrested man. He had his head down, not out of shame but more out of fatigue. The President of the Embassy came out of the room and gestured to me.

"This is your man, bring him to your grandfather. he will know what to do."

           I placed my bike in the bed of the soldiers truck. He was to escort us back to the manor to make sure he did not escape. I asked the guard several questions to get a conversation going, but he didn't answer me. I finally turned to the young man. As I opened my mouth to speak but the soldier grabbed my face and turned it toward him.

"Don't speak to the prisoner. Do you not know your place?" There was silence for the rest of the ride home.

            When we arrived home the soldier told my grandfather about the incident in the car. That night I received 10 lashes.

Nov. 21, 2017

          It has been 8 months since I had joined the resistance.

May 11th, 2018

          Today I helped plant a bomb in the President's office. A half an hour later I heard about it on the news. the Royal family was dead and the war was over.

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