I shot up from my pillow, head throbbing at the heavy BOOM that nearly destroyed the window of my tiny hut. “What the hell..?” I cursed, rubbing my tired, sleep-worn eyes and walked outside.
“LORD ALMIGHTY!!” I shrieked, a plane! A plane! What on earth was a plane doing on my fields? Was it a message from God?? “Oh. NONONONONO—“ that mark, a Nazi plane!! Oh no..have they come to bomb my land? It can’t be!
A groan echoed out of the plane and it made me worry. How could God let such tyrants live?! It was blasphemy it was. I inched closer, watching in horror as an arm stretched out and tensed, it repeated it a few more times before stopping and going limp. I breathed a sigh of relief, better make sure it stays dead, I thought as I reached the crushed hand, moving debris from it, and noticed that it was a young man, around my age, but the look on his face told me he was hurt both physically and mentally.
He shivered, trying to open his eyes as he squinted tears out. He muttered something but I couldn’t understand, as it was in German. He inhaled deeply and blinked away another few tears and mumbled with whatever energy he had left before passing out completely.
“.....h...he....lp...”
I cursed a bit more before my caring side took over and I dragged him back into my house and onto my bed. He’d be out cold for at least another two hours, and with that thought in mind I went down to grind and boil some of the barley I harvested the night before. Hopefully this would be enough. Suddenly, I heard a loud THUMP on the wooden floor of my bedroom. “Oh my god..” I mumbled, kicking the door open and walking in with a bowl of porridge, trying not to laugh at the spread out figure beside my bed.
“Help.” He said, irritated. I snickered and helped him up again, hissing sharply at the wince he gave when his arm gave a sickly crack. “..Jesus..” I called out to no one in particular as I laid him back down. “I don’t know if you understand me at all, but I’m here to help you. I’m not going to bring you to the police.” I spoke slowly, watching his eyes follow my lips as he processed it all.
“English.” His heavily accented voice resonated in the room, the air becoming thick and an unspoken answer drifted about inside it. I nodded. “Help?” It wasn’t a statement this time, it was a question. I nodded again. “Are you?” I did the shape of the Nazi on my palm. He looked up, horrified, “No..!!!” He jolted up so fast I was worried he might break another bone, “Hey, Hey...” I whispered, gently pushing him back down, “It’s okay..I’ll help you, okay?” He nodded this time and I smiled, placing the bowl in his lap, it was still warm thankfully, I hope he likes it.
Gratefully, he drank it with his strong arm, and finished it, with that I picked it up and placed it back on the dresser as I began to patch up his wounds with the small med kit I had in case of sunstroke. “This will have to do I’m afraid.” I apologised as I wrapped his broken arm up as best I could. He smiled solemnly for the first time and we sat in a happy silence for a long time.
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