Rocks pelted my skin as the bombs of German forces exploded, destroying the place I call home. I clutched my head as I sat up, a shrill ringing making itself present in my ears. My eyes squint from the bright light casting itself through the smoke and ash that hung heavy in the air. Dust caked my throat making breathing impossible. I clawed at the air, searching for something familiar. Anything that could serve as shelter from the evils of cruelty the Germans have become so fond of. Weakness consumed my body and I collapsed into the dirt, giving up. I lay there letting myself suffocate from the pounds of rubble resting on my chest and sitting in my throat. Shards of glass and rock flew about the air, puncturing whatever was in sight.  I laid in the dirt for what felt like hours until strong arms lifted me up out of the ruins of Poland. Warsaw, Poland. Diminished.
My vision faded in and out, but I could catch glimpses of burning houses and screaming people. Nothing was clear until darkness devoured my sight and the strong arms placed me on a cold, wooden floor. I scurried away as fast as my sore, bruised limbs could carry me, as if my life depended on it. For all I knew, it did. The same man that had pried me from the rocks quickly moved to the other room, clearly on a mission for something. As I moved, my legs screamed in pain as blood dripped down my thigh and pooled onto the floor in which I sat. A large shard of glass protruded out of the side of my thigh just inches below my hip. The source of the blood.  
I perched in the corner, clutching onto my leg for dear life and doing everything I can to get my lungs under control. I didn’t dare touch the glass for fear of making it worse. The very sight of it made me want to lose everything that was in my stomach. With each rumble of an explosion my body leapt with terror.
The tall muscular figure then jumped out from behind the door making me leap right out of my skin. He rushed to kneel beside me, holding scraps of rags. His concerned blue eyes were fully trained on my leg and the bloody piece of glass. I tried to move away but the walls jammed me into the corner.
“You have to hold still. I’m going to try to help you!” he said between huffing breaths. His cheekbones sat high on his face and his blonde hair was drenched in sweat and soot.
I didn’t have any other choice but to trust him so I gave him a small nod. He placed one hand on my leg and the other on the glass puncturing my skin. Pain radiated my whole body before he even attempted to remove the shard. The agony was so excruciating that a scream escaped my lips as he yanked the glass, splurting red liquid about the room. Moving quickly and precisely, he tightly wound a cloth around my leg and secured it. The piece of glass rested on the floor, dying whatever lay beneath it red.
My whole body shook with panic as he pushed back away from me, panting from the work.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes I think so.” Each word scratched my throat and waves of tears pushed behind my eyes. “What happened? I mean, what’s happening?” I asked addled.
“The glass. It needed to come out” he said.
“No. The guns. The bombs. The fire.” I panted.
“I believe the Germans just took Poland. A war has just begun.”
Tears gushed down my face. I knew it. This is the end. He tried to comfort me but failed. I caught him stealing a glance at the gold star that was sewn onto my dress. The star of David.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Annette” I breath slowly.
“Burke” he said outstretching his hand. “Burke Abendroth.”
German. He’s German. Again, fear captivated my body and I turned away without saying another word. Silently I wept, holding my leg.
My frizzy hair scratched my neck as I continued to sit there and ponder what had happened. Questions bubbled in my brain as I silently cried for all that I knew I had lost. Still, Burke sat next to me, patiently waiting for me to get control of my emotions.
The room has darkened even more from the purple night sky covering the ruins of Warsaw. Hours have passed since rubble buried me into the ground. I haven't moved. I haven’t spoken. I was still slumped in the corner of the room, hugging the wall for dear life. I lost my house, my room, my books and photos. Probaby never to be seen again.
A large hand was placed on my shoulder as I made eye contact with the same icy blue eyes that tentatively made sure my leg was in good care just hours earlier.
“May I check this?” he asked and placed his other hand on my bandage. I winced and fidgeted as he removed the now dark red cloth. Biting my lip I cried. The agonizing pain had me scraping the wall with my fingernails as he moved my leg and poked my wound, looking for excess glass and infection. 
“Tell me something” he insisted.
“What?” I huffed.
“Talk to me. It’ll take your mind away from the pain.”
I told him as much as I could think of. My favorite books. My favorite food. My school. My mother's recipes. All the while he gently re-wrapped my leg, careful not to cause more pain. When finished, he respectively draped my dress back over my leg and scootched next to me. Still, I blabbed on and on about my parents and the life we lived as a Jewish family. Intently he listened, cutting in here and there.
He told me all about Berlin, his birthplace and how him and his mother left for Poland to escape his abusive father. Since then he worked three jobs to provide for her and help her heal from the wounds his father had inflicted on her and Burke himself. Pain hid behind his eyes when he spoke of his mother's death, which occurred only months earlier. However, his love for her and for all people showed through his words, even his words of sorrow.
The explosions outside faded away as we delved deeper and deeper into each others lives. Studying every aspect. Me being seventeen and him being twenty, we had a lot in common therefore tons to talk about. Slowly exhaustion got the best of me and I drifted away, resting my head on his shoulder. He was the safety in the destruction that surrounded us.

Three days we hid in the dark apartment. My leg was still sore but it was healing quickly. Burke helped me walk about the room and into the kitchen for crackers that were stale and covered in dust. He always made sure I had enough and if not, he gave me his share. All we were capable of doing was talking and resting, finding company in the somber room. Burke held me as I trembled in my sleep, tended my wound regularly, and held my hand when emotions got the best of me.
I gave him warmth when the nights were cold, calmed him when he thought about giving up, and held his hand when he felt alone.
We helped each other heal. We helped each other stay sane in our world that had so quickly fallen apart.  A relationship had developed between the two of us. A relationship that had formed from the rubble of our lives.
“Anne! Wake up!” Burke whispered in my ear, shaking me gently. Clicks of feet sounded from the streets outside.  He slowly lifted his finger to his lips giving the impression that not a peep should leave my mouth. Loud boots and loaded guns walked just outside the door of the apartment in which we sat. Both of us were frozen in fear of being found and killed by the people who took everything from us. Neither of us knew what would happen but we did know we didn’t want to be apart. I could feel it and so could he.
He placed his lips on my forehead, warming my whole body. Our hands were white from intertwining them so tight and our legs were criss crossed like pretzels.
The stomps became distant and silence enveloped the room.
“They’re gone” I said to him with a relieved grin. The minute the words came out of my mouth, German men crowded the room pointing rifles at us and screaming.
“Einfrieren! Einfrieren!” they all screamed at once. I buried my face into Burke's chest, unable to look.
“Sie schaden uns nicht!” Burke yelled back. Cold hands pried me from Burke's hold and threw me to the ground. My leg screamed in agony causing me to lose my breath. Burke immediately got to his feet to speak to the men holding me to the floor that had been my safeguard for days. Now, it would be the place where I will die. The place where my blood would once again spill. Burke looked at me with nothing but misery behind his eyes. I will never forget his face. The blonde. The blue. The freckles. We both took each other in one last time before darkness covered my eyes.

I dragged my bloody feet along the sharp rocks. My crusty eyes looked over the sharp wire that kept me hidden from the outside world. The blue and white clothes I wore chaffed my body and rubbed against my tattoo. My identifier. 18252. My beautiful long brown hair was chopped off leaving only clumps and splotches about my head. Months had passed since I lost my home. My family. My friend. From what I could tell, they were all gone, dead.
The woman in front of me spit blood onto the ground as we made our usual walk to our daily jobs. Mine was digging through jackets and trousers for valuables that were left behind. Occasionally I would come across pictures or letters but I was forced to leave it behind. Still, I never forgot the smiling faces.
I hid my emotions to the best of my ability. The more you stood out, the more likely you were to get noticed. The more likely you were to die. The soldiers here had no mercy, no compassion. Their hard faces were always full of hate and I never knew why. What did I do? Why am I here?
During my walk across camp, I thought only of good things: my parents, warm food, sunny days, my books. I would kill for a book. I was pulled right out of my thoughts as my weak knees could no longer hold up my small body. I tumbled to the ground, smacking my head hard on the dirty gravel. The world went fuzzy and my eyes spun in my head. Strong arms instantaneously whipped my small body to my feet until I stood on my weak legs. I looked into his eyes, pleading for him not to swing his fist that was high in the air. His eyes were icy blue. So familiar. Then I saw his cheekbones, high as the clouds. I saw his blonde hair sticking out of his cap. Burke. It was him. He was here. A sliver of joy made it’s way through my body until I realized who he was. What he was doing. What he was wearing. A dark green uniform. All he did was stare at me, and I stared back.
“Abendroth! Why have you stopped? Punish that animal!” a large man said from behind him.
With my eyes, I gave him permission to do what he had to do. His hand came down hard on my face and I fell to the ground once more. Trembling, I looked up at him, towering over me. Behind his eyes I could see, he was in there. I forced myself onto my feet again as he turned and walked away. All my pain ceased to exist at that moment because I knew I wasn’t alone anymore.
Burke was assigned my block to patrol everyday. He stood with a straight face and watched me sift through the memories people were forced to leave behind. Everyday I walked by him and looked into his endless blue eyes. Even though we didn’t speak, we knew what the other was thinking.
Days passed with just eye contact and facial gestures unil Burke couldn’t stand to be apart much longer.
Barging into to the bunk in which I slept, Burke grabbed me by what little hair I had left and pulled me into the cold rain that soaked the night. Not a single scream or yelp came from the women I slept beside because every single one of them was overflowing with fear of death.
Burke pushed me to the side of building, out of sight of the lights, and held me. He squeezed me so tight that I myself thought I might snap in half.
Again, not a single word was spoken between the two of us. There wasn’t much to say. We both just wanted to feel love. Love was so rare in the world we both lived in, so we took as much as we could. He pulled away and placed both his hands on the side of my face, taking me in. Rain drenched our clothes and dripped off the tips of our noses. Just when I was about to place my lips on his, bright lights blinded our sight and dogs bit at our heals.
Guards pushed me to the ground, making my body sink into the wet mud. I couldn’t see Burke anymore, all I could hear was shouting and barking. Rain dripped into my eyes, stinging them. Once again I was jerked upward but not to my feet but this time to my knees. It was all clear then. Burke stood in front of me, his large stature drenched in water. His unforgettable blue eyes showed so much pain as he lifted the pistol that was shoved into his arms. I looked into his eyes one more time, and told him how I felt, ignoring the cold barrel that rested on my forehead.