A/N: Hello everyone! This chapter has been revised due to the fact that the German in the original version wasn't very good at all seeing as I have only ever studied French. I want to thank everyone who corrected my translations or offered their help, and thank Tessasama for the translations I used for this revision. If there is anything else that needs fixed or if I missed something (It's really late and I'm going cross eyed from exhaustion) please let me know! I'm working on the next chapter seeing as classes finally let out! I've been busy this year with courses that leave no time for my stories unfortunately. I plan on updating as soon as the words flow from my mind so hang tight! :D


"Bist du hier, Vater?"(Father, are you in here?) I asked, calling through the door to his office. He had one of his soldiers send for me, instead of coming to get me himself. I could hear his record playing soft music through the heavy wood of the door. I shook my head with a frown, he probably wanted me for something that would end up being totally useless and a waste of time. Last time I had been to his office he had wanted to know how my schooling was going. I sighed, ready for the unwanted father- daughter bonding. Opening the door, I was not expecting what I was about to see. My lips parted in shock at the mess his office was. The normally tidy office was in a disarray. His army green filing cabinets were crushed to the floor, spewing documents everywhere. The bell on his desk was bent impossibly inwards. I followed the path of destruction to the Herr Doctor's "Torture Room". The procedure tables were flung this way and that. Metal saws and instruments were unrecognizable to the scraps of metal they had become. He stood, looking at the remains of the room, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a boy around my age. His slicked back hair was ruffled and his suit jacket was slightly crumpled

"Hier drin, meine Liebe," (In here, my love.) He replied. I noticed the boy was sobbing, which made my heart ache. I went to step into the room, but stopped when my shoe came in contact with something foreign. I gasped in fear at the three bodies on the ground. Two of them were soldiers, their heads smashed in by their helmets that were bent like aluminium foil, faces masked in fear and pain. I felt even more horrid at the third body. It was a woman, one of the camp's prisoner's. Her striped clothing was blotted and soaked in crimson, making my stomach churn. She had been shot in her abdomen, and was most likely the boy's mother. I closed the door as my father slipped something into the boy's hand, patting his back before turning to me. He flashed me a smile, passing me to go and gaze out of his window at the concentration camp below. I glared at him before I knelt down next to the bodies. Both of the soldiers' eyes were clenched tightly shut, blood running down their foreheads, but the woman's eyes were staring blankly off into the distance. I reached over and gently closed her eyes. I said a prayer for her, before standing to look at the boy. He was staring at me, sniffling and desperately trying to hold back his sobs. I felt for him, hating my father even more. This boy's crystal eyes were probably once full of life and mischief, but all that was left were dull blue eyes that seemed empty of hope.

"Hallo, mein Name ist Anneliese. Wie ist deiner?"(Hello, my name is Anneliese. What is your's?)

"Erik." he whimpered. I carefully stepped over to him and took his hand in mine, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Komm, Erik. Du musst hungrig sein," (Come, Erik. You must be hungry.) I gently pulled him from his spot, frozen in the middle of the chaos. I noticed him quiver as he looked at his mother on the floor.

"Mama!" he cried. I pulled him into a hug as he started to cry again. I looked over his shoulder and to my father, saying only one word.

"Untier," (Monster) His eyes grew hard and cold. Dangerous. I grimaced, knowing that I was to be punished.


"Es tut mir leid, Papa." (I'm sorry Daddy.) I said to my father after two soldiers had come and dragged Erik off. They had come back to clean up the bodies and take them to be disposed of. Father was sitting behind his desk as if nothing had happened and his office was in right order. I looked at my black dress shoes, nervously clicking my heels together. I was scared of what he was going to do to me. But he didn't even acknowledge my apology as he went about examining the destroyed bell.

"Ich habe dich gerufen, weil ich wollte, dass du dich ein wenig mit Erik anfreundest. Gewinn sein Vertrauen. Du brauchst auch einen Freund, oder nicht?" (I called you here, Anneliese, because I want you to befriend little Erik. Gain his trust. You need a friend too, don't you? ) he said, brushing his fingers over the dips in the metal.

I stayed quiet, feeling bile rise in my throat. He took that as an understanding because he waved his hand at me.

"Gut, du kannst gehen," (Good, you may go.)

I turned slowly, moving to walk carefully to the door.

"Und Anneliese," he called to my back.

"Das ist deine einzige Warnung," (This is your only warning.) he threatened. I gulped and nodded, ducking my head as I left the office. I didn't look up at the men I was passing as I headed to my room in the building. It was a plain room, with white walls and a standard bed. I had a small wardrobe and a desk to practice my mathematics and grammar on. It sat in front of a window, which over looked the large fenced in area that the camp's prisoners worked in. It was a constant reminder of what the world had become. Sometimes, I think that Father gave me this room just for that reason. To keep my in my place. I walked over to the glass, looking down at the sea of stripes. I felt tears rush to my eyes. I wish I could take away their pain and suffering, but there was nothing I could do.


It was another week until I saw Erik again. I was sitting at the desk in my room, working on my grammar, when there was a knock on the door.

"Herein." (Come in.) I called, not looking up from my paper.

"Du hast einen Besucher," (You have a visitor.) Father said as my door opened. I looked over my shoulder at the pair in the open doorway. Father stood straight and tall, a smirk playing at his lips. He had a hand on the boy's shoulder, which were slouching with his head bent.

"Erik." I greeted, smiling as best I could. I stood, pushing in my chair and walking over to him. I ignored my father and took his right hand in mine. "Es ist gut, dich wieder zu sehen." (It's good to see you again.)

He still wouldn't look at me. I frowned and glanced up at my father. He looked at me from the corner of his eyes. He patted Erik's shoulder and spun on his heel, sharply closing the door behind him. I bent down to meet Erik's eyes. He stared at me blankly. I tried smiling at him again, but he didn't even register it.

"Mochten Sie sich setzen?" ( Would you like to sit down?) I asked. He shrugged, so I gently pulled him over to my desk and put my hands on his shoulders, guiding him to sit down. He flinched at the contact and I pulled back.

"Ich gehe nicht, Sie zu verletzen." (I'm not going to hurt you.) I assured him, cautiously sinking down to sit on the bed, facing him. Father would throw a fit if he found out one of his test subjects had been even close to my bed. I folded my hands in my lap, and looked over at him.

"Willst du mein Freund, Erik?" (Will you be my friend, Erik?)

He slowly shifted his shoulders to look at me. "Warum würden Sie wollen, dass ich dein Freund sein?" (Why would you want me to be your friend?)

"Es scheint mir, dass man eine verwenden." (It seems to me, that you could use one.) I told him softly. He sadly nodded in understanding and went back to staring at the floor. It was quiet in the room, as neither of us knew what to say.

"Was ist Ihre Lieblingsfarbe?" (What is your favorite color?) I asked him, trying to soothe the uncomfortable silence.

"Rot." (Red) he mumbled. I nodded.

"Ich mag Blau. Es ist die Farbe des Ozeans." (I like blue. It is the color of the ocean.) I grinned. I saw a small twitch at the corner of his lips. I was finally getting somewhere with him.

"Haben Sie schon einmal auf das Meer gewesen?" (Have you ever been to the ocean?) I asked him.

"Ja. Einmal, als ich klein war. Ich kaum daran erinnern." (Yes. Once, when I was little. I hardly remember it.) he told me, his voice gaining more volume. I reached over and took his hand in mine once again.

"Wenn Sie wieder gehen, was wollen Sie tun?" (When you go back, what do you want to do?)

He shrugged. "Sandburgen bauen." (Build a sandcastle.)


After that day, Father would bring him for a visit every other day. I could tell that he had started to experiment on Erik by the way he flinched away from my father every time he came close. I also noticed the scars that would peak out of his clothing before he would self consciously tug at his sleeve or pull up his collar. He was open with me, speaking freely and unguarded. We became quick friends and I found myself looking forward to seeing him. One day, Erik hadn't come like he was supposed to. It worried me. Had Father gone too far this time? Was Erik ill from one of the many diseases being passed around the camp?

I took it upon myself to find out and get to the bottom of things. I carefully slid out of my room in the middle of the night, grabbing my dressing gown to put over my night gown, clutching it to my chest. As I scurried down the hallway to my father's office, I couldn't help that my heart would speed up at the mere sound of the wind blowing outside.

"Was machst du?" (What are you doing?) A low and intimidating voice asked from behind me. I shrieked and turned around, relief flooding through me at the person.

"Achim! Du hast mich erschreckt!" (Achim! You scared me!) I gasped as I looked up at my father's assistant. He narrowed his black eyes at me in suspicion. " Ich hatte einen Albtraum und wollte zu Papa," (I had a nightmare and wanted Papa.) I quickly lied. I could tell that he had a feeling that I was up to something because he had seen first hand my relationship with my father. Achim stared at me for a moment, calculating what I might be doing out of bed. I was pretty sure that he was oblivious to my friendship with Erik, so I was hoping that wasn't one of his scenarios. He probably thought I looked like a scared little girl needing her father's comfort, even if they weren't on the best of terms.

"Dein Vater ist beschäftigt. Komm später wieder," (Your father is busy. Come back later.) he said coldly. I crossed my arms, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Zu beschäftigt für seine eigene Tochter?" (Too busy for his own daughter?)

"Geh wieder ins Bett Miss Schmidt." (Go back to bed Miss Schmidt.) He ordered. I glared at him and turned back around, walking to the door. As my hand brushed the brass knob, Achim grabbed my upper arm and tried to pry me away. I shoved him and ripped open the door. The lamp light was on, but the desk was empty, that left only one other option. I spun to look at the room he experimented in. Father was leaning over the table, with Erik lying on it. He was strapped down and weakly struggling to break free. Father was grinning down at him with a scalpel poised in his hand.

"Vater!" I screamed in fear. His head shot up and the blood drained from his face. He threw the scalpel to the side, ripping the gloves from his hands. Two strong arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up to pull me out of the room. Achim had grabbed me and was holding onto me tightly as I thrashed against him.

"Nein!" I yelled, kicking at him, but he wouldn't let go of me. Father had opened the door that connected to his office and was rushing towards us. Erik's head turned to look at me, tears glazing his eyes. He looked worn and broken.

"Anneliese." he muttered, his eyes trying to stay open, but it was a battle he was quickly losing. He went limp, sending my mind into overdrive. Father had killed him! He had killed Erik! Erik my new friend! I felt myself become hot with anger and my blood felt like it was boiling. My hands seemed to be burning, the dying skin peeling back and becoming charred. My father's eyes were wide and he was...laughing gleefully.

"Bemerkenswert! Meine eigene Tochter!" (Remarkable! My own daughter!) He cried. I heard Achim scream in agony behind me, dropping me carelessly to the floor. I looked back at him, my vision framed in red. Angry welts were forming on his hands and his suit jacket was smoking. My eyes widened and my anger was replaced by confusion. What had just happened? Had I...done that? I looked back at Father, who was grinning. He didn't even spare Achim a second glance as he strode over to me, pulling me into a hug. I went to push against him, but a blinding pain shot up from my hands and to my wrists. He pulled back and caught my arms, looking at my hands. I gazed at them in fear. My flesh was raw and burnt. At some points on my hand, I could see the ivory of my bones peaking through. I felt tears prick my vision and rush over my cheeks.

"Ruhig, meine Liebe." he said, looking down at me. He went back into the room, searching for something. I gazed at Erik, who was breathing deeply. I smiled happily because he was alive. He looked so much younger in his sleep. His forehead wasn't creased in worry and his pink lips weren't in his constant frown. I was pulled out of my musing as my father came back to me.

"Achim, geh und lass deine Verletzungen versorgen," (Achim, go and get your injuries tended to.) He ordered his assistant. Achim didn't say anything, but the look of fear in his eyes was enough. I stared after him as Father took me and sat me down in his desk chair. He knelt on the floor in front of me, gently working on my hands. His lips were still upturned in a smile.

"Du bist nicht allein, meine Kleine. Ich bin wie du," (You are not alone, little one. I am like you.) He said to me, wrapping the long bandage around my burns. In that moment, I forgot how I hated him and all of the horrible things he had done to me. Right now, he was only my father.

"Papa..." I looked down at him, trying to hold back my tears. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from my chin. He stood back up.

"Zeit fürs Bett." (Time for bed.) he told me, going to open the door. I stood up and went to the door, gazing up at him. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. He straightened back up, nodding in the direction of the hallway in a gesture to tell me to leave. I shakily began to walk back to my room, wishing that my father cared enough to tuck me in.


"Meine Liebe, hier ist jemand hier, um dich zu sehen." (My love, someone is here to see you.) Father said the next day as he came into my room. I was sitting in the middle of my bed, staring blankly down at my bandaged hands. I reluctantly looked up. Erik was looking at me with concerned eyes. He waited until my father left before he came closer to me.

"Bist du in Ordnung?" (Are you alright?) he asked me quietly, standing in front of me. I nodded.

"Es sticht." (It stings.) I told him.

"Was ist passiert?" (What happened?)

"I-ich weiß es nicht." (I-I do not know.) I stuttered, looking up at him. I felt scared. "Ich glaube, ich habe Achim verletzt," (I think I hurt Achim.) I told him. He hesitated before boldly sitting down next to me and wrapping his arms around me. I gasped in shock as he tightly embraced me. Erik was warm and comforting and I felt myself begin to cry against my will.

"Das Feuer. Es kam aus meinen Händen." (The fire. It came from my hands.) I sobbed into his shoulder. He was quiet, but it was a good thing. I didn't need him to say anything. Just holding me was enough. There was a knock on the door and Erik jumped away from me, creating a rather large distance between us. The door opened and Father stepped in, shutting the door behind him. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes, standing up to greet him. He strolled in and over to me, grabbing my arm in his hand. He silently took off the bandage on my right hand, revealing my burnt flesh. Blood that was dried onto the cloth peeled off of my hand somewhat painfully, making me grimace. He tossed the bandage into the wastebasket carelessly.

"Versuch das Feuer noch mal zu machen," (Try to make the fire again.) he ordered. I hesitantly nodded, looking down at my hand. I concentrated hard, staring intently at my palm. I tried to feel that boiling in my blood, but nothing was happening. I looked up and met Erik's eyes. He was nodding at me in encouragement, nervously glancing at Father. I looked back and this time it was different. My blood wasn't boiling, but it felt warm and pleasant. A small flame flickered in my hand, but wasn't painful. It did sting my previous injuries, but it didn't eat away at my flesh. Erik smiled at me, making another rush of warmth to run through me. The flame grew in a burst and Father grinned in satisfaction. He looked at Erik and must have noted something that I hadn't noticed.

"Sehr gut." (Very good.) he chimed, coming to examine my hand. The fire abruptly went out and he fished around in his pocket for something. He brought out another roll of bandages and went to work changing my old ones to fresh.


"Miss Schmidt, dein Vater wünscht dich zu sehen," (Miss Schmidt, your father wishes to see you.) Achim said through my door one evening. My hands were finally finished healing and I could go back to doing everyday tasks. I sighed and pushed the door open, looking up at him. He was still frightened of me, not being able to look at me at all. I pushed past him, ignoring how he stiffened as I brushed by. I stalked down the hall and back to the office. It was organized once more and Father sat behind his desk. Erik was standing in front of it, glaring at my father.

"Ja, Vater?" I asked as I came into the room. He looked up at me, gesturing for me to come closer. I stepped forward, next to Erik.

"Erik, du kennst das ja bereits. Beweg di Münzen bevor ich bis drei gezählt habe," (Erik, you are familiar with this. Move the coin on the count of three.) He coldly said. I was suddenly looking into the muzzle of a gun. Cold fear rushed down my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Papa?" I asked in confusion.

"Ein." (One.) Father started ruthlessly. Erik panicked and stared at the coin, his palms outstretched towards it. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold metal against my forehead.

"Zwei." (Two) The coin still hadn't moved, making my heart speed up. "Drei." (Three.) I felt the twitch of the gun as my father's finger went to pull the trigger.

"Nein!" Erik shouted and the metal was suddenly not on my skin. I opened one eye carefully, scared to see what had happened. The muzzle of the gun had been bent to the side so that it came nowhere close to me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I fully opened both eyes. I still felt the rush of adrenaline pounding through my body.

"Gut, Erik." (Good, Erik.) Father complimented, setting down the gun with a chuckle. "Ich hätte meine eigene Tochter nicht getötet." (I didn't have to kill my own daughter.)

"Papa?" I tried again, tearing up this time. "Warum?" (Why?) I asked. He waved his hand in dismissal.

"Druckmittel," (Leverge.) Was his simple reply. I bit my lip, gazing down at the blurry floor. "Sie können gehen." (You may go.)

I grabbed Erik's hand in mine and pulled him out of the room. I practically dragged him down the hall and into my room. I harshly slammed the door, angrily kicking it. Erik watched me closely, not knowing what to do.

"Verächtlich!" (Despicable!) I seethed, flopping onto my bed. Erik had stayed silent through the entire ordeal. He went and sat down in my desk chair. The silence was uncomfortable, making me sigh deeply.

"Ich hoffen, dass das alles bald vorbei ist. Dann können wir beide zusammen an den Strand gehen," (I hope that this is all over soon. Then, both of us can go to the beach together.) I said to him, changing the subject. His chuckled quietly.

"Du hörst nie auf mich zu überraschen," (You never cease to amaze me.) He said, shaking his head. I frowned and rolled onto my side to look at him.

"Möchtest du etwa nicht mit mir gehen?" (You do not want to go with me?) I asked slightly hurt.

"Doch, dass will ich," (No, I do.) He assured me. I nodded at him, happy with his answer.


"Anneliese, beeil dich und pack eine Tasche. Wir gehen im Morgengrauen," (Anneliese, hurry and pack a bag. We are leaving by morning.) Father burst into my room in the middle of the night, looking a mess. I sat up and turned on the lamp on my desk. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, looking at him in confusion.

"Was redest du?" (What are you talking about?) I asked him.

"Wir müssen gehen," (We have to leave.) He said, throwing a suitcase onto my bed, pointing at it. "Beeil dich," (Hurry.) he ordered. I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I got dressed quickly, quietly packing some clothes and essentials to take with me. As I was shutting the clasps on the suitcase, I remembered Erik. I might not ever get to see him again. I rushed about my room, tearing through my desk drawers until I found what I was looking for. I looked at the pocket sized photo that was of me before I came to Auschwitz with my father. I didn't want Erik to forget me, and this was one thing that I could give to him so that he wouldn't. I went to Father's office, dropping off my suitcase. He was in a fit, going around his office to find anything that he could either burn or take with him. He was too busy to notice as I slipped from his room and found my way to the exit of the building. It had been over two years since I had stepped outside and the cool air felt wonderful. I walked through the camp, keeping to the shadows closely. I saw the men working, so I wondered over to them. They gave me odd looks as I passed by, my eyes searching over their worn faces.

"Anneliese?" Someone called from up ahead. My eyes shot over to where the noise had come from and instantly found the face of Erik. I ran over to him, careful not to knock anyone over.

"Erik!" I gently put both of my hands on his cheeks, cradling his face. "Ich muss gehen," (I am leaving.) I told him.

"Warum?" (Why?) he asked, his bottom lip beginning to quiver. I shook my head.

"Ich weiß nicht, aber ich musste dich sehen. Hier." (I do not know, but I had to see you. Here.) I said and handed him the photo. "Vergiß mich nicht." (Do not forget me.) I told him. He ran his thumb over the picture and looked up at me.

"Ich werde dich nie vergessen. Ich verspreche es," (I will never forget. I promise.) he said, a tear sliding down his cheek. I leaned in and kissed it away. I then moved towards his mouth and quickly pecked his lips, heat rushing to my face. He, too, was turning beet red.

"Vielen Dank, Erik." (Thank you, Erik.) I whispered, pulling back to look at him.

"Anneliese!" I heard my father cry from somewhere close to the camp. With one last look at my friend, I turned and started to run back the way I had come.

"Ich werde kommen und dich finden, Anneliese!" (I will come and find you, Anneliese!) He cried after me. I let myself cry as I got back to my father. He put a hand on my shoulder and hurriedly steered me in the direction of the car we were taking. He opened the door and ushered me inside. He slid in after me, slamming the door. The driver took off and soon the camp was disappearing behind us.

" Wohin gehen wir, Vater?" (Where are we going, Father?) I asked, gazing at the scenery passing by in a blur.

"Nach Argentinien." (To Argentina.)


Please remember to R&R! : )