claim all characters as original and 100 mine :)


It was a cold, rainy day when the Germans came. Naomi had done what her parents had always told her to do, and that was to take her six-year-old sister Elia and race to the well-hidden, well-stocked bomb-shelter nestled in the tall grass and bushes woven deep in the alleys. It was so old that moss and grass had grown thick on the door, effectively blending it in with its surroundings.

Of course, they told a select few of the shelter. Too many people and the food would run out too fast, as Naomi's father had always told her. Just a few and it might be enough to last for months, maybe years. They told close family relatives, of course, and, secretly, Naomi told her boyfriend of two years, Deron Radwan. Tearfully, she had clasped his warm hands and said that if anything, anything happened to drive him from his home and his family, he had to come to her and hide. She knew her parents would understand. They liked Deron very much.

But, when the guns fired and the frightening thumping of Nazi boots on the streets drove the citizens from their homes, Naomi grabbed her sister, sneaked into the alleys and into the shelter like her father had told her...but her parents were not there.

They had told their daughters only the other day that they would be visiting their neighbors for a short time, and they would be back soon. Naomi had expected to meet them there when they did not return home that night. She waited, listening to the shots and praying that none of them killed her parents.

But after a day, an hour, a month, an eternity, everything was silent. Naomi had lost track of time; her eyes were dark without sleep, her throat dry. Her sister, Elia, was crying silently, fearful for her parents' lives.

Naomi and Elia were sitting at the table, trying to force down another canned meal, when the creaking of a heavy, rusted metal door slipped the spoons from their trembling hands. Whether the intruder was friend or foe, their parents or the Nazis, it would be determined in the space of a few seconds.

A figure moved in the dark doorway. Naomi was still, and Elia like a statue. The two girls stared as a pale, thin, brown-haired figure staggered into view.

"Deron!" screamed Naomi, launching herself forward as Elia broke into relieved, hysterical laughter. Deron caught her and kissed her deeply, his arms locked around her and half-laughing himself. But when he broke away, his eyes were solemn.

"My parents were shot in the kitchen, I heard it from upstairs, so I jumped out of my window to the tree and hid out there for a while. It's real big and it's got sharp leaves, you know, so the Germans just shot into it a few times and left. I yelled for the first few shots, to make them think they hit me. I even shook some branches, so they'd think I collapsed but was stuck in the tree. Once it was quiet I ran here as fast as I could," he said, pain in his voice. Naomi backed up and looked him up and down, worried.

"Did...did you...?" she couldn't ask. He smiled bitterly and pulled up his sleeve to reveal an angry red wound, though not gushing as much blood as she'd expect.

"They just skimmed me with a bullet, but it wasn't too bad. I half-expected it, anyways," he said as Naomi rushed to the First Aid kit on the shelf with the emergency supplies. She raced back, pulling gauze and disinfectant from the small white box. Deron sat back in a chair and braced himself as she dabbed at the wound with a wet towel, then smeared the stinging gash with the cream. Finally, she wrapped the whole mess up in a tight winding of bandages. Deron patted his firmly bound arm gingerly and grinned.

"That was fast! Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked, reaching out and taking her small hands gently in his own. She blushed and smiled.

"My mother showed me, back before...before...you know, a few weeks ago." She skimmed over the painful part. The part where they hadn't come back. Naomi hoped beyond hope that they had made it out of the country, because by the sounds of the ringing shots, the nightmare wasn't yet over.

Trying not to cry, she looked down. They stood silent, holding hands, for a few minutes. Elia must have gone to bed already in the other room. Deron released one of her hands and touched her chin. Naomi looked up into his warm, wonderful light brown eyes.

"Sleep with me?"

And Naomi knew he wasn't asking for anything more than her company.


They lay together, bodies entwined, on one of the two twin beds. Elia was fast asleep on the other, across the room, but Naomi and Deron were wide awake, staring silently into each others' eyes. She felt oddly calmed by his presence.

"I hate them," she whispered quietly, and though grief and anger ripped through her, her voice was steady. Deron squeezed her hands.

"I pity them," he murmured, "for whatever happened to them to make them believe that this was right. That we deserve this."

"Where do you think my parents are?" murmured Naomi sadly, but her eyes had long dried of tears. The aching pain that gripped her heart, the fear that thickened her throat, were more than enough. Deron swallowed.

"I don't know. Maybe they got away. Maybe they're in someone else's shelter."

Naomi knew, though, that her father would do anything to come back. If it was possible, if he could sneak away in the dead of night, past the guards like Deron, he would have. But she didn't say anything, because she didn't want to hear it out loud. She dimly wondered if her relatives made it out of the country, like they had planned. She wondered if she should have gone, too. She wondered if she would ever see her parents again.

And then, the merciful darkness of sleep took her.

She dreamed fitfully, of death, of her sister, and of flashes of her parents' faces. She had nightmares filled with fear and pain, fear for her sister, for her parents, for Deron...for herself. She feared what happened in the terrible camps so spoken of by neighbors in hushed voices.

Finally, before daybreak, she reentered the world she was in with relief. It was also filled with fear, but more sensible, more plausible fear. She knew the slim possibilities of being found. But there was another horror in store for her and the other two refugees.

The food supplies weren't enough.

She had opened the pantry to take a quick inventory on supplies, and found that rats had burrowed many months ago and viciously ravaged their supplies. They had plenty of water and preservatives, which were stored on the top shelves in jars, but not enough to get them far. The bread and fruits were almost all gone, and grain was a thing of the past. They had spoiled the frozen meat with their teeth and feet and feces, which worried Naomi the most. They needed meat, no matter what happened to the fruit and bread. Meat would keep them alive the longest, keep them healthiest, give them the most protein.

Naomi worried and worried for days as she cooked meals and listened on the radio for news and wondered what she could do about their rapidly declining food supplies. Finally, when they had only a week of food left, she sat Deron down and told him about their condition and what they could do; she had been thinking about it and even probing gently in their outside surroundings. He was horrified at the food shortage, but more so at her plan.

"No. Absolutely not. If anyone's going to sneak out and steal food from Nazi supplies, it'll be me. Do you have any, any idea what they'll do to you if they find you? Capture and rape are the least of your worries!" he hissed, dark eyes furious. But Naomi didn't back down. Her eyes were as stubborn as his were fearful.

"Deron. I understand your concern, I really do. Do you think I'm not afraid? I'm terrified of what could happen if I'm caught! But...I have more to think of than myself. If I'm taken, at least I'll know that Elia will be safe with you. If you're taken...you know you'd be able to defend her better than me. And I'd have to come out sometime. Better you than me, I know; but better me than Elia." Her tone was firm, and though Deron looked ready to shout, he simply bit the insides of his cheeks and glared at her. She didn't back down. He hissed softly through his nose.

"Fine. Fine. But Naomi..." he took her hands and kissed her softly. "You be careful. For Elia. For me."


Naomi had been preparing. Every night she wandered farther, waited longer. She watched them carefully, her belly always in the grass. She followed cautiously, she lay still so as to watch for guard changes and such. She watched them enter the bakery and leave with fat packages. So that's where they're keeping their food...

She brought plenty of rope, in case she needed to spend a night in a tree. It would help her keep from falling out. She brought a thin sheet, folded carefully and tucked in her jeans, to hold supplies. She hadn't wanted to bring a gun; killing someone was beyond her, and besides, it would only attract unwanted attention. She placed her hopes in that she was younger and faster than her chaser.

The alleys were fairly empty, save a few sleeping guards. She got by them easily. Her heart raced at both the silence and the bursts of sound, her feet always ready to flee. But she calmed herself in that she had watched the Nazi guards for long enough to know their habits and guard changes; she had watched them for so long that their food supplies had been demolished even with careful rationing. She HAD to get them food tonight.

All was going well. She was near the bakery, then she was a house away, then she was sneaking along its wall to the door on the side wall, facing the alley. Excitement and relief flooded her, and her hands shook with the sudden release of tension. They were saved!

Then, with a creak like a gunshot, a door opened across the alley, mere feet from her, and she found herself frozen, face to face with a very surprised young man with crisp, blonde hair.

Naomi bolted.

She heard heavy footsteps behind her. He was very, very fast, but adrenaline and fear were nature's steroids. Naomi outstripped him by far. Fortunately, she had enough brains about her to not run back to the shelter; instead, she planned on losing him in the winding labyrinth of alleys.

However, though she was quite familiar with the path to and from the bakery and had an idea of which alleys had dead ends and which didn't, she was taking a road less traveled. A rough, bumpy, rocky road less traveled.

And her feet were bare. The lucky soldier behind her had thick, army-issue boots and was dominating the rocks like a bulldozer. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she ran on, knowing that soft grass waited on the other side. Hope rose in her as she neared her goal.

Then it crashed down as quickly as she did when the Nazi soldier behind her caught her in a fantastic tackle, the pair flying across the rocks and, thankfully, landing in grass at the far end.

Naomi didn't dare scream, but she kicked and scratched and bit at every opportunity. She even managed a well-placed punch to the left cheek. Finally, he managed to grab her wrists and roll her on her back, straddling her stomach and effectively making her legs useless. Overflowing with despair, she cried softly, still not daring to make a sound. He, strangely, mirrored her silence. Aside from breathing rather hard, he wasn't making a sound.

After a few minutes of catching his breath, he climbed carefully off of her and pulled her to her bloody, injured feet. She was ready to bolt, but he was too quick for her. Holding both of her wrists in one hand, he quickly located her rope and bound them together behind her, then buried one gloved hand in her thick, dark hair. He pulled back her head, exposing her neck and making it difficult for her to see or move.

"Es tut mir leid," he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry." Naomi was confused until he began groping her immobile body. Gasping in shock and indignation, she began to struggle, but he only pulled her head back more, making her shake with physical tension, her body in all aspects balanced on his hand. But, when he ran his hand along her stomach and back, she realized that his intentions were less than perverted; he was checking her for bombs or weapons, any evidence of some sort of trap. When he got to her thighs he could reach no further without bending her in half, so he lifted her legs, one at a time, to waist level and checked her feet quickly. It was very intimate and embarrassing, and she could feel herself blushing through the flush of anger and exercise.

Then, when he finished with her feet, he froze, hand hovering, and she could nearly see the tint on his pale cheeks. After a split second of hesitation, he raised his hand to his mouth and pulled off his glove with his teeth, turning his head a little to drop it behind him. She felt his hands grip her jeans, then ease them downwards. Lucky for him they were rather loose and did not need unzipping.

Naomi's thoughts, though were on the unluckiness of her situation. She tried to struggle again, but was unable to aim or properly control her own limbs. He slipped a slender hand beneath her light cotton panties, surprisingly warm against her shivering skin. Naomi shuddered with humiliation as he thoroughly explored her nether regions, and even he seemed quite uncomfortable.

"Es tut mir leid," he whispered again, withdrawing his hand and sounding satisfied only that he had done the job completely. He looked around for anyone watching, his grip slackened, and Naomi took her chance and ran for her life.

With her arms tied behind her and her jeans halfway below her butt, she had no chance from the start. But the instant she stepped back onto the stony path she twisted her ankle and fell hard. Unable to restrain the initial cry of pain, she fought against herself to not make a sound. The Nazi had caught up, and was now picking her up very gently. Every little movement hurt. She buried her face against his shoulder, biting into it hard and howling in a more muffled manner into the cloth. If her teeth pained him he did not show it. He walked quickly, and though he was trying not to hurt her, she passed out before he even made it through the door.

There were no nightmares in this darkness, because reality was much more frightening.


This chapter's not bad. It's fairly long...I'm going to be trying to make them longer as I go on, but then again that means longer time between updates, haha :)

Hope you like it, and if you see any mistakes in grammar or facts, please straighten me out.

ALSO, I wasn't able to find a location for Naomi's home. I was hoping for somewhere not German-speaking, but where big groups of Jewish people might reside...(Naomi's Jewish, by the way). I had a hard time finding such a place, I found it was very difficult to root up facts about cities invaded by Nazis.

If anyone has any suggestions, please leave them in review-form :)

thank you.