Auf Wiedersehen

A wisp of a forgotten memory. 

My dreams have shown Me This. 

A sense of loss and grief. 

I have felt this in my sleep. 

A life forgotten maybe? Or a wild mind,  running amok,  not quitting even in slumber? 

I open my eyes and find myself on the banks of a canal. The cold pebbles dig into my legs and the tears on my cheeks feel warm against my cold skin. A stone Bridge on my right, the stone cool And wet. An overcast sky signals a storm. The world seems strange,  discoloured,  as though I'm viewing it through a sepia glass. 

An old rusted tin box in my hand. Inside,  lie the remnants of a life lived long ago. Photographs of family meals. A huge family sitting around a table in a field of gold grass. A tree stands nearby. A silent witness to the happy memories captured on a few scraps of paper. I see smiling faces with dark hair,  eyes shining with love. I see a grandmother,  with silver white hair, in a dress of pale gold. I see myself, happy but different from the others, with my pale hair and pale eyes. 

An onslaught of memories release fresh hell inside Me. Events of the past Flash through my mind. I see them as though they are unfolding in front of my eyes. I see loved ones urging me to run, because the colour of my hair would allow me to hide amongst the people who wish to wipe out my kind. I see them cry and beg and I see myself,  agreeing to them. 

 Another memory surfaces. A cold winter. A dead father. I see him break through the ice of this very canal, his cold unblinking eyes stare at me as his corpse flows away underneath the ice,  away from me, and I'm left there screaming and pounding against the hard ice. 

The grief hits me again. It's sharp spikes tear into my heart, making me gasp for Breath.

I force myself away from the memories. I look down to the tin box in my hands. The box needs to go. The memories inside it will prove that I'm an inferior species and then this new life I have built for myself will crumble, and I will be carted away by the Gestapo to the Chambers where the air is poison, and every Breath  tears you from the inside. 

I tie a stone to the box and set it free in the water. I watch as it sinks deeper, away from me, just  like my father, leaving me hollow. 

A voice behind me interrupts. A group of Nazi soldiers. Smart. With their sharp uniforms and straight posture. "Are you okay Fraulein? ", they ask me in German. But my dream self understands them anyway. I nod Yes, smile at them, and leave, towards a new life where memories of the past will haunt me. And my gratitude at escaping death, will keep me alive.