Because every heartbeat has its own unique rhythm.

When I try to recall the past, all I can retrieve from my memory is the last day of my normal life, the beginning of a life with a feeling that everything can fall apart any time.

Daddy and I, we were walking along the Champs Elysees. People gathered around, greeting each other with "Salut!"s and "Ca va?"s. We just arrived at the Arc De Triomphe to congratulate Mommy to her promotion and her new officer uniform when I experienced my first bomb attack.

Huge black bullet shaped bombs dropped from the jets, like candies falling out of a jar. People, as innocent as always, were as shocked as I was. Without hesitating, Daddy pulled me away from the screaming crowd, away from Mommy who just pulled out her revolver and turned around. This was the last action she did before another bomb hit the avenue, crashing the street, making it splitter in all directions.

While traipsing for a while, I realized it wasn't Daddy after all who saved my life. There was no thanking to the bearded man, because I knew what he really wanted. Since my very first breath, 7 years from then, I had always feared the day when I'd be torn away from my beloved parents. This day finally came.

With my winter boots on, I awkwardly kicked the grinning man in his shinbone, and fortunately making him crying out of despair, I dashed away. It could have been only a few meters to Daddy, I could have travelled with the speed of light, but with my heart repeatedly pumping in my ears, I got lost. I got lost in the streets so familiar as my own room. I got lost in the middle of a bloody, murderous war.

The same day I encountered people who would accept to help me find Daddy. German troops and Nazi officers wanted in return secrets of the underground way which was officially formed when news from Poland came. Naturally I accepted their sly offer which was the first sign that I have never been loyal to my own country. I betrayed France in order to find my Daddy- a fatal mistake.

The soldiers went underground, to the catacombs releasing countless, rapid, life taking shots. I watched my old teachers, schoolmates and neighbors falling bloodily to the ground without batting an eyelash. All my heartless self wanted is the desire of assurance that my own life would be okay.

As the sky turned reddish, the streets were either black of bombs or red of blood. A shrilling silence remained. Finally, I went to the German officers' resting place to inquire myself about Daddy. They began laughing and started opening a new bottle of vodka. One man with many badges on his jacket patted on my fragile head.

"Gute Arbeit! Nicely done, sweetheart! Thanks to you-"

I couldn't hold my desperateness longer and interrupted him, "Where's Daddy?"

"Who was your Daddy again?", still smiling, still half sober, half drunk.

"Jacques dePoint. Where is he?", I repeated frustrated.

The officer lit a cigarette and called an adjutant. He commanded, "Fritz, check out this... Jacques dePoint."

Promptly after saying "Natürlich, mein Herr." the aide-the-camp turned his heel and left the room. Afterwards, the officer had seemingly nothing to do, so he introduced himself proudly, if one believes his job is that highly.

"You can call me Adolf, by the way. So, Elise, who was your mama? Probably as beautiful as you, huh?" Everyone else in the room started laughing. Have I been that ugly? I had known that my tangled red hair and my freckles were not loved by my surrounding, but my self-esteem had always told me that I had been unique and special.

"Wenn ich bitte stören darf, mein Herr. Jakob von Punkt ist ein entflohener Jude aus Buchenau.", the adjutant informed us as he entered the room.

"So so so... You're father was a Jew... and in addition a refugee! Lemme guess, you're Jewish, too?" Adolf's smile turned into a mocking expression. He retrieved his revolver and pointed it at my forehead. I froze. He continued making fun of a terrified child, "You wanna know where he is? In hell! Bwahaha!"

As toughly as I could, I escaped his firm grip on my arm and jumped off the staircase, landing on the street. Not only night has begun, but also a new life in angst.

My eccentric heartbeat in my chest slowed down until it reached a cliff as deep as infinity could go. Jumping off, I still haven't reached the ground, hoping terror would finally end. Because there is an end to everything... isn't there?

Made for fun. As you can retrieve from the information everything happened during World War II. Note that the officer is not the actual German dictator!

(c) Fongki 2012