My days seemed to blur together down in that cellar and could no longer tell when a full day had passed. My father gave me enough food and water to keep me alive, but the food was rotted, and the water was hardly anything. It was never a full glass, and what they considered water, most people considered filth. I knew that they must have gotten the "water" from a gutter or a mud-filled puddle.
The only sounds I heard were the loud, pounding sounds of boots on the floor above me, it was the single sign of life I had in that dark pit. I no longer begged for help or pleaded for mercy from my father. He came down whenever the thought happened to strike him, and he offered me the same deal. Every time I refused, he would either slap me across the face, or eat his lunch in front of me and then leave me the small crumbs that were left. I was growing sicker and sicker with every passing day. My face stung from all the beatings, and I no longer had any doubt that a few of my ribs were broken.
I lay on the cold hard ground, crumpled up like a broken toy that had been thrown away and abandoned. I couldn't move without blinding pain shooting through my whole body. My father had started sending guards down to throw buckets of water on me whenever I happened to fall asleep. I was left to shiver in cold, wet puddles and forced to stay awake for more hours than I could count.
At one point, I simply couldn't care anymore. I slumped down and closed my eyes, and after what felt like only moments, I opened them, and I was in Mr. Becker's shop. The front door had been fixed, and the windows were all still intact. I looked around the shop in amazement, and then I noticed Mr. Becker sitting hunched over his work desk, carving a beautiful new clock. I looked down and noticed I was wearing a light blue summer dress with small flowers all over it. My hair was long and hung over my shoulders, and I had a beautiful clip holding back some of my hair. I looked around and felt peaceful and content. I slowly approached Mr. Becker's desk, and I gently placed my hand on his arm. His sweet brown eyes looked up at me, and the wrinkles around his face softened as he smiled at me.
"What do you think?" He asks, holding up the newly carved clock. It's in the shape of a small house.
"It's beautiful, who's it for?" I ask, running my hands over the clock.
"Well, it's for you, my dear," He says with a big smile, and he then kisses me gently on the cheek.
"For me? What is it for?" I ask, pleasantly surprised.
"It's for the wedding, my dear, don't you remember?" he continues to smooth out some of the edges.
I looked at him with confusion, and then all of a sudden, the bell that hung over the door of the shop rang and I turned to see who it was. John stood in front of me, he looked so much older than he had been the last time I had seen him. He had some scruff around his chin and above his lip. His hair was long and wavy, it curled around his ears, and it seemed slightly darker than I remembered it being. He had a big smile on his face as he walked up to me and picked me up and twirled me around, and then kissed me sweetly on the lips. His beard felt scratchy on my face. He set me down, patted Mr. Becker affectionately on the back, and with a big sigh, he sat down next to him and looked closely at the clock Mr. Becker was holding.
"Is that for the wedding? It's beautiful, James," John says with ease and delight. I found it odd that he called Mr. Becker by his first name, I had never heard him say it.
"Who's getting married?" I ask, looking at them both with confusion.
John and Mr. Becker looked at me, and they both seemed surprised by the question. John stood and walked over to me and takes my hand in his.
"Ours, Beth, don't you remember?" John says, leaning down and giving me a gentle kiss on the lips.
"Ours?" I say, still confused and feeling as though something wasn't right.
"Yes, ours. Are you okay?" John asks with concern.
"Beth, why don't you sit down for a moment, you look exhausted. I think all this wedding planning has worn you out," Mr. Becker says, leading me to the seat next to his.
"Well, my love, don't spend too much time here. We are getting married tomorrow, and you know how important it is that you get home so you can have your last dress fitting," John says with enthusiasm.
"Dress fitting? Home?" I said, feeling giddy.
"Yes, so your mother can fit you for your dress," John answers.
'My mother?' I thought to myself. My mother was waiting at home to fit me for my wedding dress. I just sat on the chair feeling out of place, like I was living someone else's life. I looked at Mr. Becker and then back at John. I didn't know what to think. I knew I loved John, and I knew Mr. Becker, and yet I felt like something was wrong.
"Well, I have to go finish a few things and then help your father out with some last-minute arrangements before tomorrow," John says with that wide grin I had grown so in love with.
My eyes went wide, and my heart rate inexplicably sped up. I felt myself begin to shake uncontrollably. "My...my father?" I ask in a shaky voice.
"Yes, your father. What is the matter with you today?" John says, looking mildly concerned.
"My dear, is something on your mind?" Mr. Becker says, taking my hand.
"I...I just...my father is...I'm sorry. I'm not feeling like myself today." I fumble over my words and walk out of the shop and into the bright sunlight of the day. I squint, the sunlight hurts my eyes. I begin to walk, not sure where I am going, I am just walking in hopes something will start to make sense. As I walk, I stare at my feet, not paying attention to where I am walking, and out of nowhere, I bump into something. I look up and see a tall figure standing in front of me, and he grips my shoulders so that I don't fall down. When I look up, his face feels familiar to me, but I can't recognize him. His blue eyes stare down at me, and it causes my body to tense up.
"I'm sorry." The tall man says with a kind smile.
"No, I'm sorry it was my fault. I was watching my feet instead of where I was going," I answer.
The man smiles in and nods slightly. "It's okay, Beth." The man says with a tilt of his hat.
It takes me a moment to realize he had just said my name so casually. I watch him as he walks away. There is something familiar about his voice and his face, but I didn't know why I thought I knew him.
I continued to walk distractedly until I heard my name being called. I looked all around me, wondering where it was coming from, and then Anne appeared. She also looked all grown up. She wore a light yellow dress, and her dark hair was up in a ponytail. She ran up to me and looped her arm with mine.
"Oh Beth I am so glad you are here, I have been looking all over for you!" Anne exclaimed.
"Anne?" I said, looking at her in disbelief. "You're alive," I said with a smile.
She gave me an odd look, "Of course I'm alive. What made you think I was dead?" she asked with confusion.
I thought hard about it, and didn't exactly know the answer to her question. Anne just smiled, and we continued to walk.
"I just can't believe you and John are finally getting married, it's all so romantic," Anne says excitedly.
"I can hardly believe it myself," I say.
"Are you nervous?" Anne asks.
I shrug my shoulders, not exactly sure how I should be feeling. I wondered why I felt so out of place. I didn't understand why I wasn't more excited about marrying the man of my dreams.
"I don't think so," I answer.
"That's good," Anne smiled, "I'm so happy for you. It seems like only yesterday we were all children together."
I nod and agree. Anne continues to talk, but I just drown her words out and get lost in my own head. I look at all the buildings that we pass like I'm seeing them for the very first time. I feel so strange about being there. I look over into one of the store windows and see that the clerk is the tall stranger I had bumped into just moments before. He looked over at me and smiled and then continued to work. We continued to walk, and I watched him. I almost felt as though I couldn't look away even if I tried.
"Beth? Beth, what are you looking at?" Anne asks, trying to pull my attention away from the store window.
"I'm sorry, Anne. I got distracted," I apologize.
"It's alright, common, let's get to your house before your mother gets mad that we are running so late," She insists.
Anne and I begin to walk with purpose even though I am not sure precisely what is happening. When Anne and I reach the front of my home, I look up at it with a smile. I feel like crying, and I had no idea why. I just stood outside the house looking at it like I hadn't seen it in years.
"Beth, it's time to go inside now," Anne urges.
"I never thought I would see this place again," I murmur.
"You were here this afternoon, when we all had lunch together," Anne says, looking puzzled at my confusion.
I just shake my head and smile, "Right, I'm just feeling a bit strange today, I guess."
Anne and I walk inside, and my mother is standing in the dining room, working on a beautiful wedding dress. I watch my mother work, her gentle fingers working quickly and delicately.
"Mother?" I say, feeling a lump appear in my throat
My mother looks up from the dress and gives me a stern look. "You are late. I don't have time to stand here all day and wait for you to show up. I have other things to do, you know."
I smile and quickly run-up to her, wrap my arms around her and hold her for as long as she will allow. She pulls away and gives me an alarmed expression.
"For heaven's sake, child, what is the matter? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"I love you, momma," I say, fighting back the tears.
"Well, I love you too, Beth," She says with a soft smile, "Now let's get to work."
My mother and Anne rush me into the other room and help me into my wedding dress.
Anne and my mother chatter with each other as they take turns telling me how beautiful I look. I look at the dress in the mirror, it is covered in lace with a small train and a sweetheart neckline. It fits perfectly around my body. My mother places the long flowing veil on my head, and I just stare at myself in the mirror, feeling like I am looking at a stranger.
"John will just adore you in this dress," Anne giggles.
"You look beautiful, dear," My mother adds with a smile.
"This doesn't feel right," I say so softly I can hardly hear it myself.
"What?" My mother asks.
"Beth, what is the matter? You have been acting strange all evening," Anne says.
"I...this all doesn't...I don't know. None of this feels right," I say.
"You have been in love with John since you were both children. You have no reason to get cold feet now," Anne says sternly.
I look at her, and I know I should agree with her. She's right, I do love John, I always had, but for some reason, I didn't seem right somehow. I watch myself in the mirror, my long dress reaches to the floor. The lace scoops below my neck, the veil hangs down the back of my head like a beautiful white waterfall. I look at my mother, who works on the back of the dress, and she looks up at me with a love-filled smile. She looks at me, but for some reason, I feel like I am not the person that that smile belongs to.
That night I lay in my bed, looking up at the ceiling. My bed is soft and comfortable, my pillow smells fresh and clean, a cool breeze blows through my open window, and I look at the stars that shine so brightly outside my window. It all feels so familiar and comfortable, and yet something is making me uncomfortable and uncertain. Nothing feels real or normal, and however I know every inch of that house, I know every person in it. I could walk around that old house blindfolded, and yet the house seems different. I look around my small room, and I see a picture of John and me that sits on top of my dresser. I look happy in the film. John is kissing my cheek, and I am drinking a soft drink through a straw with a big smile that seems to spread from ear to ear. My wedding dress hangs from my closet, and glows with the soft light of the moon that shines through my window. Looking at it makes me uneasy. It doesn't seem to belong to me even though it fits me like a glove. I sit up quickly and search the room, and for some reason, I suddenly feel as though someone is watching me from every corner of my room. I stand and walk over to my window and let the cold air blow my light blond hair around my face. The air smells sweet and seems calm and causes me to relax. I hadn't been aware of how tense my muscles had become. I rest my chin on my folded arms and watch as a few people stroll back to their homes. They all seem happy and at peace. Some of the people walk hand in hand, some walk-in small groups talking and chattering to themselves, others walk alone but at a quick pace.
All of a sudden, a shot rings out. I scream loudly, duck and cover my head. My whole body begins to shake, and tears start to roll down my cheeks—a few moments pass, and a tall, dark figure from before bursts through my bedroom door. Instinctively I reach out for the figure, and, as I beckon it, they quickly run to my side and wrap me up in their arms. The figure whispers soothing words into my ear, and for some reason, I don't fear it. The moon shines down on the face of the stranger, it is the clerk that I had run into earlier. His sweet eyes gaze down on me and brings a sense of ease to my worried mind as he holds me tightly in his arms.
"Who are you?" I ask in a shaky voice.
The man looks down at me with a calm smile. "You know," He smiles with an ease that feels comforting, "You will remember me once you are ready." He stands up, "Remember me, Beth." He walks calmly out of the room.
I am left sitting on the floor of my room, still shaking. I look outside and realize it was just a car backfiring. The people down on the street continue to walk as though nothing had happened. I walk back to my bed, crawl under the soft, warm covers, and pull them up to my chin. I close my eyes, and I can see the face of the stranger, looking down on me with concern and affection. I didn't understand why I hadn't screamed when he had burst into my room, why I reached out for him, or how he had even known that it was me who had screamed. Anyone else would have screamed louder if a strange man had burst into their room, but I knew that man, he felt right, and at a moment when I needed something that seemed normal. None of it felt right, none of it felt like it was mine, but he did. It seemed natural to have him there, it felt safe, real, and familiar.
The sunlight covered my room, and the warmth of the day spread over me like a blanket. I looked around the room, feeling just as confused as I had been the day before. I decided not to move and hope the feeling of displacement would quickly vanish, but the sensation only grew thicker and harder to ignore. I slowly sat up and yawned as my mother entered the room.
"I was just about to wake you, but you looked like you hadn't slept in months, so I let you rest," She said with a smile
"Thank you," I said in a groggy voice.
"Anne will be here any moment to help you with your hair and your dress. Your father and Mr. Becker are setting up the reception tables," My mother says calmly.
My heart drops to my stomach at the very mention of my father. I look down at my hands and realize they are shaking uncontrollably. My heart begins to race, and I have the undeniable urge to get up quickly and run. I don't understand this reaction. I think I love my father. He has always been kind to me; he has been my protector and counselor, but for some reason, I don't believe my own thoughts. A shot of pain shoots through my body, and a lump forms in my throat, fear overwhelms me. I look up at my mother and fake a smile, but inside I am a scared little child, looking for a way to escape.
Anne shows up with a big bright smile on her face. She starts to jabber about the plans for the day. I don't ask questions, and I keep quiet, not bothering to understand anything that is happening. Time passes quickly, and before I know it, I am standing in the back of a church, alone. The church seems big and grand, the stained glass windows change the color of the rays of sunlight that are shining through, and I am covered in the colors the stained glass produces. After a while, the door opens, and my father walks towards me. He is wearing a suit, and his hair is nicely done. If I didn't feel so scared of him, I would even be willing to say he looked handsome.
He greets me with a smile and kisses my cheek sweetly. "You are so beautiful," My father says.
I look up at him and find it hard to speak. His touch seems to burn my skin, and it causes me to wince. "Are you ready to get married, my dear?"
I swallow painfully and try to ignore the impulse to run as far away from him as possible.
"Beth?" he asks gently.
"Yes?" I answer in a shaky voice.
"Are you okay?" his voice holds genuine concern.
"Um...I think so," I say, hoping he doesn't realize that I'm lying.
"Well, it's time to give you away," My father says with a sad smile.
The big wooden doors open into the grand church hall. People are sitting on each side of the church. People I don't know, and others I feel I have met once or twice. I slowly inch my way down the aisle, and I see Anne and my mother. I see John's parents sitting in the front of the church, and I see Anne's whole family smiling at me. When I look down at John, he is standing at the end of the aisle. His smile is lighting up the room more than the sun ever could. He is wearing a suit with a small flower tucked into his jacket's small pocket. His bow tie is a little crooked, but he looks the way I always imagined him looking if we ever got married. My father and I slowly walk down the aisle, and for some reason, with every step I take, I can't get any closer to the altar. If anything, I feel as though I am getting farther and farther away from it. I continue to walk, thinking I am just losing my mind and that as long as I keep walking, I will make it to the altar eventually. But then in a moment, everything seems to freeze. My father stops walking, people stop talking to each other, and everyone looks as though they are frozen in time. I look around the room with confusion. I wave my hand in front of my father's face, but he doesn't blink or move. I look all around the church till I see the man who had burst into my house the night before. He stands near the doors in the back of the room. He is wearing a uniform, and his hair is brushed back, his eyes look kind but worried. Something about him makes me calm, yet shaken, as he approaches me calmly. He seems to be looking around the room, not with confusion, but with fascination.
"I wish you had had this life," The man says with a sigh.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"Look closely," The man answers gently.
"How do I know you?" I ask, feeling frantic.
"You're not looking hard enough, Beth. Look again," He says as he takes a step towards me.
I look at him closer. His sweet, kind face is so familiar, and yet I can't quite figure out how I know him.
"I did my best to protect you. I will always do my best to protect you, but I can't save you from this," He says with worry in his voice.
"From what?"
"You're losing yourself, Beth. You have to fight this battle alone," He sounds sad.
"I don't understand," I say, pleading with him to make me understand.
The man walks down the aisle to me and stops in front of John. John remains frozen in place. The man smiles at him and then looks back at me.
"He was a good man," He says.
"I know," I answer, and an overwhelming sense of sadness takes over.
"I never understood why he trusted me so quickly or why he trusted me with you, but I was grateful that he did. Sadly, he couldn't do much to protect you himself. No matter how hard he tried."
"Protect me? From what?" I pleaded again.
"Life, I suppose. Your father, the Nazis, and from himself too," He says with ease.
"Nazis?" I know exactly what that is somehow, and a familiar fear sweeps over me. I look up at the man, and in an instant, I know exactly who he is. "Rolf," I say with relief.
Rolf smiles at me, "I didn't think you would ever figure it out."
I look around suddenly, realizing what was happening. I look at my father's frozen body and step away.
"You don't have to be afraid of him here," Rolf says comfortingly.
"Where am I? How did I get here?" I ask.
Rolf walks towards me and grabs my hands gently in his. "You got lost. You were about to slip away, permanently. You're trapped in a dark place, and this is where your mind took you to protect you from your father."
"The cellar," I whisper to myself, "I'm in my father's cellar."
"You have to stay alive, Beth. You have to fight to live. Please, Beth, don't give up, fight, live, find me," Rolf's voice seems to turn to mist in the air, and he vanishes from sight.
I sit up quickly and gasp for air, realizing that I am in darkness, and I am soaking wet. I look around and know I am back in my father's cellar. The air is stale, and the stone beneath my feet is cold and slippery. I slip against the wall, crumple forward and cry into my hands. It had all been a fantasy, a dream. My mind had to figure out a way to deal with what was happening to me, and so it had taken me deep within my own mind, and did it's best to keep me safe. I would have stayed there if Rolf hadn't shown up. I didn't know if I was mad that he had taken me out of the world in my head, or if I was thankful.
All I knew was that I was back, starving, wet, tired, and completely alone.
"You have quite the memory," James says, eyeing me from across the room.
I shrug, "It was a vivid dream, or whatever it was." I sigh at the memory that has haunted me for so many years. It feels odd recounting something that felt so real, yet I know it was only a symptom of my deteriorating mental state. The words felt like they didn't want to be spoken, like it was some precious gem that was to be hidden from prying eyes. But I had already shared so much with James it felt futile to hide this. Besides, part of me wanted the dream to remain in the mind of someone else once I was gone.
"Are you okay, mom?" James asks as he struggles to process everything I'm telling him.
I nod, "Are you?"
James takes a moment to consider the question and nods, "Keep going."