Spoiler! :
Entry IV – February 21st 1949
Nikola died in the early hours of yesterday morning.
I am repulsed by my lack of emotion. I have seen so many lose their lives: my eyes are accustomed to death. Writing such a thing makes me feel physically sick. Of course, I am devastated at the loss of my friend; pain at the loss of a dear companion. However, I feel no urge to weep and wail. I am panged only with emptiness.
We were, sad to say, expecting Nikola’s death. Allow me to rephrase that a little more tactfully: her death did not surprise us.
Yesterday, she began wrenching up blood more frequently and in larger quantities. Hysteria gripped her body, hallucinations her mind. She was feverish, wrestled violently with her limbs, and, in the evening, developed a burning scarlet rash.
In the hours leading up to Nikola’s death, Justus, Petrus, Hannah and I did not leave her side. We waited in sombre silence, our bodies stiff and motionless, and our lips dry of saliva.
She died an undignified death. Nikola hadn’t an ounce of lucidity when the end came. Her lack of sanity made the whole situation so sad, so pitiful.
We continued to sit, staring blindly into space, long after Nikola had passed. The hours that followed those of her death were that of reflection, meditation. It was when first light appeared that we dragged our limp, aching bodies from the ground and set to burying our dearest friend. There is a sad irony in that her downfall came in the form of a fatal case of Pneumonia. After all, she had survived the brutal regime of Hitler and an atrocious Prisoner of War camp. She was a remarkable woman, a courageous friend, and a wonderful asset to our ‘team’.
We buried Nikola earlier. Justus and his brother dug the grave whilst Hannah and I disrobed her body. I am ashamed we had to resort to such a reprehensible act. If we had unlimited supplies, we would surely dignify Nikola by burying her clothed and with possessions. However, with the cold lingering and our shelter weakening by the day, we desperately needed her blankets and garments.
In the camp, if someone elderly or sick or innocent died, we would strip the body and leave their naked corpse to the NKVD. It sounds disgraceful. However, we needed layers upon layers of clothing to keep from succumbing to Hypothermia. Of course, though, it was first-come-first-served.
Now, before the dark sets in, I shall copy into this diary a short poem I wrote earlier, about Nikola. I’m not very good at poetry, but she was. Nikola loved it. It seems fitting that the small portion of this book dedicated to my friend should be in the form of a poem.
In the memory of Nikola Esztera, 1927 – 1949
A pearly smile so radiant
Used to light up her face;
Her manner was so kind -
How sweet her embrace!
A gallant, selfless beauty
She proved herself to be;
Remember her as such:
A woman nobler than me
Nikola was a loving friend -
To us more like a caring sister;
She was worthy of imitation:
Oh how sorely we will miss her!
***
I couldn’t get to sleep last night.
My stomach was writhing. I felt sick. Shifting my way out of my swaddle of blankets, I trudged outside, and vomited.
I put my sleeve to my mouth and wiped away the residue. For a moment, I lingered, staring above at the twinkling canopy. Never had I seen a clearer night’s sky.
I felt a sudden, gentle prick behind my eyes. Wetness engulfed my vision, made everything -swirl into a blur.
For the first time in months, I found myself crying. My knees gave way, and sobs began to rack my whole body.
I embraced the tears as if I were being reunited with a long lost friend. In a strange sort of way, they reminded me that I was a woman. Bodily, I am not at all feminine. My flow of blood dried up months ago, and my physique is that of a shapeless child.
The tears gave me reassurance that inside, I was not completely callous and unfeeling. That night, the emotionless damn that had I had built over so many wretched years had burst open.
I made no effort to pull myself from the dirt and dry my eyes. I let wetness stream my cheeks for hours upon end.
A bitter wind chilled my core, near froze my tears. Silent droplets of rain began sweeping down from the heavens. After only a few minutes, I was sopping wet. Shivering uncontrollably, I hugged my knees to my chest, and rocked back-and-forth. The rims of my eyes were heavy and raw.
I gently uncurled my aching limbs and lay upon my back. Glinting topaz flecks shimmered about the sky, so beautifully, so innocently.
They embittered me.
***
I heard the sound of footsteps squelching in the sloppy, wet mud. I looked up. Petrus stood before me, looking sleepy and dishevelled. He eased himself down beside me, and placed a firm yet gentle hand upon my knee.
His touch sent a ripple of surreal pleasure hurtling through my body. The unexpected sensation jolted me alert. A fierce thrust of passion throbbed through my veins, sent my bones reeling with euphoria. I swear the pounding of my heart within my chest was audible. I had never felt an urge so passionate, so strong.
‘Gretal, I-’
Tears began to choke his words. I placed my hand on top of his, cringed with delight as a thrust of crippling exhilaration pummelled my hand.
He began to cry softly. For a while, I sat quietly and respectfully as his tears poured. I had wept over Nikola and the wretchedness of life. Now, it was Petrus’ turn.
When his sobs had subsided, I shifted closer toward him. He turned to stare at me, his eyes and face glistening though the darkness. Hesitantly, I leant my head upon his shoulder. He began to fondle my hair, an action reminiscent of my first morning at the camp. Petrus slipped his thin hand to the small of my back, pulled me further in toward him.
Upon a thrust of impulse, my lips met his neck. They lingered, explored every flaw of his milky skin. I smoothed his tears away with tender kisses...
***
My eyes wrenched open. Blackness engulfed them. My stomach whined with hunger. A cold sweat lingered about my body. Butterflies fluttered frantically about my stomach. My whole entity was utterly aroused.
The reality of the situation slapped me across the cheek. Devastation pummelled my thick, heavy limbs. You see, it was all a dream.
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