The Girl From Munich by Tania Blanchard

Author:Tania Blanchard [Blanchard, Tania]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B071VRL4QC
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Australia
Published: 2017-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

13

Cocooned from the realities of the world, Erich and I walked hand in hand through the Köschinger Forest, shafts of sunlight falling between the densely growing pine trees creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere around us. I could imagine that we were in some ancient fairy tale, perhaps Red Riding Hood and her huntsman or Snow White and her prince. The rustling of the underbrush suggested that there were many small furry creatures living in this mainly untouched place. I felt the magic of this natural sanctuary begin to heal me, reconnecting me with my sense of wonder, a deeper self that I had denied since I was a child. We slept on soft beds of fragrant pine needles, Erich’s arm flung across me, our legs intertwined under my coat, curled together as if the world couldn’t touch us. I wanted him by my side like this forever.

It was early morning when I stirred. I wondered what had woken me. Peering into the forest that surrounded us, I saw dark shadows prowling between the trees. I squinted and the shapes took on forms, not of the wolves that I had feared, but humans. They came into view, men with a wild look in their sunken eyes, hair matted, beards overgrown and dirty rags hanging off their pathetically thin frames. They eyed us hungrily. With a speed I couldn’t imagine they’d possess, they pinned us down. Waving knives in our faces, shrieking in triumph, they found our bag with only a meagre portion of food left. I was terrified, shivering uncontrollably.

Erich wrapped his arms around me, protecting me with his body. ‘Stay still. They just want our food,’ he whispered urgently in my ear. Rifling through my bag, they found nothing they wanted, discarding the items on the forest floor.

As they released us, melting back into the trees, all I saw was their eyes. The forest dropped away and I was back in the village square. The eyes became red and bulging. Eyes that dropped from their sockets, leaving gaping cavities, revealing the swollen, blood-encrusted corpses. Flies buzzed around the open gunshot wounds and crows pecked at the remaining eyes. I screamed in horror.

I woke with a start. My eyes adjusted to the soft light of the room, curtains closed to keep out the morning sun. It was quiet and peaceful. I was in a clean, soft feather bed. Another just like it was a few steps away, empty with the covers pulled back, revealing rumpled sheets. Where was Erich? I missed the feel of him against me when I woke in the morning. Then I remembered.

We were safe and had arrived in Windsheim the day before; I was sharing a room with my mother at Tante Susie’s house. Erich had stayed the night in another room and we had not yet discussed what he would do next.

Sounds of the boys shouting and scuffling, their mother yelling at them, exasperated, drifted to me. I had to smile. We had returned to reality and it was good to be with family again, among the day-to-day activities that defined their life.

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