Past Reflections Chapter One By: Lazuli lazulidreamer@yahoo.com Disclaimer: There are many references to political groups during the Second World War, and many famous people. Some clips in here are actual documents taken from that time period. One so mentioned is "The White Rose." I do have a few excerpts from the leaflets that the group passed out at that time. I make no claim to have written them, nor will I ever. Please understand that. I got my information from http://www.jlrweb.com/whiterose/ Write to the creator of the website and thank her for all her hard work with this. And remember to keep in mind the spirits of those who wrote this. Jena, Germany Circa 1943 Serene sighed as she walked into her silent home, saddened by the news that she had heard today by one of her contacts. The group, called "The White Rose" had died before they could officially be recognized as a section of the Resistance. Their words were famous... but not for all the good reasons. They had angered so many people with their bold words. Serene looked at the remains of the paper in the fireplace, remembering the leaflet she had just burned there a few days ago. The words rang in her mind still, and she couldn't help but wonder at the bravery of those who thought them up. "Every word that comes from Hitler's mouth is a lie. When he says peace, he means war, and when he blasphemously uses the name of the Almighty, he means the power of evil, the fallen angel, Satan. His mouth is the foul-smelling maw of Hell, and his might is at bottom accursed. True, we must conduct a struggle against the National Socialist terrorist state with rational means; but whoever today still doubts the reality, the existence of demonic powers, has failed by a wide margin to understand the metaphysical background of this war." She was still amazed at those words. How brave and foolish. No matter how true those words were, they still frightened her with their clarity and lack of inhibition with the statements that were said. As if they knew that they were going to die eventually for their words, and they would not be unsaid. She shook her head silently, and stirred up the last of the crumbling pages so that nothing would be left but ashes. She did not need the incriminating evidence that it would present. She grabbed her basket on her way down to her storage cellar; under the pretense that she was putting away bolts of cloth and food to support the Fatherland. She grimaced. As much as she loved her native country, it was starting to become as alien as the characters in the storybooks she read as a child. She lit the oil lantern as she walked down the creaky stairs, giving away the fact that someone was coming down, and the pattern in the creaks that signaled it was she. She walked down a certain way just for this purpose. With her hiding place so close to her home, she had everyone hide in a crawl space if she was out of the home. She didn't hear any sounds, and she hoped that they were still there, that the Gestapo would not be breaking down her door at any moment to arrest her. "Miss Shwartz?" Serene sighed in relief as she heard the familiar voice of Anna Kepic, a Slovak child who was hiding from the Gestapo. The war had gotten so bad lately that no one but a pure German who loved Hitler was able to walk the streets. Hitler hated anybody who was not of his vision of the Aryan race, and Slavic's were not a beloved race to him. So Anna was hiding. She was one of the two that was staying at her home, and Anna was the only one that could come out for brief amounts of time. Her fair hair had made it possible for her to make it this far, and Serene prayed that it would get Anna all the way to safety, across the border. Serene set down her lantern and smiled at Anna. "Yes, it is I, Anna. Where is Johan?" Anna pointed towards the dark cubbyhole, and Serene walked over to see the young man curled up in a ball, tears on his cheeks. "Johan! What is wrong?" Serene reached a hand to touch his shoulder gently, but he jerked away as if he had been shot. "No! Don't... scared, Miss Shwartz. I keep on thinking that they will catch us before we get to safety. Please don't let them catch us." Serene nodded, her heart going out to this boy who had lost so much. The only survivor out of a family of fifteen, he was so brave to try and make it. He didn't give up, and only for brief periods of time did he let himself grieve for the family that was taken away to the ghetto, and killed within. How he escaped was a miracle. How he never got put in the ghetto was even greater. Only sheerest luck would have had him visiting his Gentile friend, a friend that protected him from the German force. They hid him within their family until it was safe enough for him to be taken to a contact within the Resistance. Serene was the one who had taken care of him, until the next contact arrived to take him to another hiding place. It was hell, being so far away from the border, but they would make sure that these people made it safely. She prodded Johan out of the hole, wishing that she had a more secure place for them. She was so frightened that she would be discovered. These people needed her, though. She sat down on one of her old chairs in front of their table, and gave the contents of the basket to Johan and Anna. It was only a bit of food...some bread and fruit that she managed to buy that day, but it would have to do until she could smuggle some type of meat in. The Gestapo had already confiscated any type of meat, and so to get a decent portion was hard. Especially when her ration card only stated one, and she was feeding three or four at a time. She gave the children a weak smile, wishing that she could stay down here longer with them, but time was short. She laid a bottle of cold spring water by their food, and got silently up. Anna touched her hand briefly in thanks, but she didn't say anything more. She knew that she wouldn't be staying here much longer, and couldn't get too attached to Serene. It was enough that she was there when she was needed. She went quietly up the stairs and straight to her room, suddenly soul weary from all the news that she had heard lately. She pulled her hair from the tight braids, tying the white ribbon around her market basket for the next time she went out. She brushed out her hair in front of the mirror, not really focusing on her reflection, until she heard a startled gasp, and her eyes flew to the glass. Reflected in the mirror was not her image, but that of a strange man. Tokyo, Japan Circa, 2001 Mamoru made his way to class, shaken by the events of the day before. What their professor had taught them about the White Rose, and the fate of them. The words that they had said, and the passion behind those words stunned them. He swallowed as he remembered what happened for being so blunt about their opinions. What fate dealt out from those who held the strings of destiny. The twenty-second of February...three students died for the words that they said. Beheaded, as if they committed treason of their country. It was cruel, and it was hard to believe that such inhumanity could have existed for so long without recourse to those who truly deserved it. Was the human heart so black that it closed its ears to the millions of voices crying out for justice? Professor Schiler was there in the classroom already, writing some notes on the board, her eyes serious as she coped out the words that were once living history. Mamoru couldn't make out what she was writing, but he knew that this would be an interesting lesson today. "Good morning, class. I am sure you all know about various concentration camps scattered over Europe. We are going to go over a few of them today, starting with one centered in Eastern Germany, near the city of Jena. The name of the camp is Buchenwald. Note that this camp was not a death camp. This was a labor camp, a prisoner's camp, but do not let this deceive you that no one died. Many died in that camp before the Allies came to liberate it on the April 11, 1945." Mamoru swallowed as Prof. Schiler took out a grim photograph of some of the camp's inhabitants. He felt his stomach lurch, but did not turn away. "Good. I am glad to see that all of you are taking this face on. For to turn away means that we ignore that fact that this existed, as so many have before us. It is up to us to remember the truth of what has happened, to prevent an event like ever occurring again." Mamoru nodded to himself, and Prof. Schiler put away the picture. "Jena's University was also a center of unease. This establishment put out "proof" that the Aryan race was the superior race, and payback for these lies were given in the form of a fire bomb raid in Jena. The populace would not stand for such propaganda." "Can you imagine living in a town that had such horrors close to it? Would it be a reminder to your conscience, or a shout to your instincts to run away, to hide from the horror so you would not join ranks of the German dissidents? It was a powerful reminder to those who opposed the Nazi rule." It was a strong reminder. Mamoru was glad that there were people who had still fought bravely in spite of the warnings and danger. That there were still people who valued other people more than there own skin. And he wondered about those people. Who they were, and what drove them to abandon all reason and dive into the nightmare that would await them. After class Mamoru made his way up to his bedroom, shocked at what was taught today. It seemed that there was more depth to the war than just the endless string of concentration camp victims and Jewish prisoners. He heard of daring tales of the Resistance, of those who blew up railway lines for German supplies, but the more simplistic tales were what was sticking in his mind now. He fingered the worn wood of his mirror, wondering if the girl who owned in lived on during the war, if she lived to tell her stories to her children and grandchildren, or if she was another victim. He sat down in front of the mirror, and his eyes opened wide with shock when he realized that his own reflection was not staring at him, but that of a young girl. Mamoru's mind seemed to be running at a faster pace than normal as she stared at the features of the girl across the mirror. Her hair was a pale blond color, and it drifted across her face in slight waves. The sight of her mesmerized him. He put one hand gently to the glass of the mirror, almost expecting for him to fall through to the other side like a cheap carnival trick or bad fantasy novel. No such event occurred, and he continued to watch the mystery girl, who seemed to be completely unaware of his presence. He silent musing was over too soon when she suddenly looked up at the mirror, and her eyes reflected the shock that must surely still be in his of this occurrence. She backed away from the mirror quickly, looking as if she wanted to break it to disable the connection between them. Her expression went from shocked to terrified. Jena, Germany 1943 Serene could not believe that this stranger was staring back at her where her reflection should be! He looked as if he was Japanese. One of Germany's ally's for the war, but no friend of hers if... she shook her head. If this were some new spying device by the Gestapo, then she would have to get rid of it. It could be dangerous to her. The man looked as if he wanted to say something, but his expression seemed to beg her not to break the mirror. As if he was as amazed by this event as she was. She put down the book she was going to throw at the mirror, and stared at it. She was scared. She didn't know why she was giving this man a chance. It may have been that she was giving him an opportunity to explain himself. He didn't say anything at first, but stared intently at her as if she was going to vanish from his sight. He rubbed his eyes a few times, then pulled down a photograph of someone, and stared at that. He looked at her again, and he seemed to be dumbfounded by whatever discovery he just made with the picture and her. "Please! What is your name?" He asked, his very tone conveying his need to have that answer. She frowned, still uncertain if it was a trick, and decided to give only her first name. If they managed to spy on her this way, all was lost; but it didn't hurt to exercise some caution when dealing with that was her enemy. "My name is Serene." She stated, and he looked overjoyed. He pulled what looked like a pen from his blazer pocket, and wrote something swiftly on the back of the photograph. "I am pleased to meet you, Serene. My name is Mamoru, and I believe that a miracle has just occurred." That is the end of that chapter! Smiles Thank you all for your awesome feedback with this story. I am very happy to have such support with this serious fan fiction. Thanks goes to Bej-chan, Ely-chan, and Ropa for pre-reading this and telling me to POST!