Cladestine-_a_Cold_War_Creative_Writing_for__After_the_Bomb_

Note to reader : I acknowledge that you may gain ideas from reading my work, but i request that you not copy my work word for word. Ill be flattered if you like my writing but i would appreciate it if you like what you read that you rephrase what you like. thankyou NOMTARD! Clandestine Kinderleicht. How can you make a banana into a compass' The young boy read from the torn paper discreetly thrown to him from his classroom neighbour. Sighing he flipped the piece over to read: Put it on the wall and whichever side has a bite is east. The child snickered softly as his Russian teacher wrote long words of Cyrillic on the gritty blackboard. With each stroke of the chalk a faint screech sounded and masked the muffled laughter from the back of the room. Shooting Erich a grin whilst tearing a piece of paper from the back of his notebook; the boy wrote back Fritzchen, why are you always speaking of our Soviet brothers' It's 'Soviet friends'. He flipped over the piece and continued with Fritz responds: "Well, you can pick your friends.”. The boy was wary of the middle aged woman who sported a brunette nest on her pale head; he slipped the note into Erich's outstretched hand and pretended to be engaged in the language that bore no use to him. Jakob saw from the corner of his eye the body of Erich shake with laughter. Biting the insides of his own cheeks he refrained himself from laughing too or grinning for that matter. He knew his teacher was one that despised the notion of happiness in the very serious subject and forced himself to stare at the page before him. He had read the same line 25 times in the past minute and still could not comprehend what it was trying to tell him. It held no meaning for him and trying at school meant nothing either. Jakob knew that out of the 30 students crammed into the dark, small and impoverished classroom; only 2 or 3 would make it anywhere respectable within Our Deutsche Democratik Republik. Learning Vectors and Thermodynamics would be completely useless to him in the next four years; when he would be exactly the same as everyone else: Suffering for a government that cared not of its people. The teacher turned and saw the chuckling student next to Jakob. She stared at Erich through her horn-rimmed spectacles as if offended by the 14 year old boy. Placing down the thick leather-bound textbook the pixie-like woman marched through the perfectly line tables to where he mischievous boys sat, eyes downcast and suppressing laughter. "Herr Eisenhauer' Herr Roth' Please enlighten me as to what you find so amusing'" She barked in her heavily accented German. Neither students replied; instead water began to leak from the corners of their eyes as their suppressed laughter began to slip from their control. Jakob was the first to compose himself. "Nothing...Fraulein...Daletski."Jakob whispered Avoiding eye contact with the woman. Within five minutes Jakob was sitting out side the headmaster’s office, trying to come up with an excuse for his inexcusable behaviour and found he could come up with nothing, so he figured that he would say it’s Erich’s fault. He sat quietly on the wooden bench wondering about his little sister. After all, Jakob always took the bullet for Erich. *** Kopfschuß. Clara giggled. The little girl ran after the rose petal she had picked up from the side of the street that was lifted up with the wind and flew away from her. The petal was beautiful, rich in colour and soft in texture, comforting to the girl who would come to learn to appreciate the beauty of natural life instead of the industralised and iron world she had been brought in to. The petal flew higher and higher and further away from the girl, drifting closer to the limit. Marcus Zaiser stood atop the watch tower and used his trained hawk-like eyes to protect the DDR. Hearing the shuffling footsteps growing louder and louder he called for his Partner. "Kraus, do you hear that'" Kraus stood up and moved towards where Marcus stood in the tower and scanned the lower ground. The footsteps of a civilian were heard and Kraus lifted his Mosin–Nagant and saw a human head. Marcus saw the small body step out from the shadow of the wall and saw a small child in a brown coat running after something in the air. "No!" Kraus pulled back the trigger and fired at the young girl. "Headshot." Said Kraus; going back to the other side of the watch tower to resume his post. "See kid, that’s how it's done. Just aim and fire." He continued whilst adding a mark to his tally of kills. Marcus stood still, frozen by the inhumanity and the sheer vulgarity of his partner. "That was a child.” he said to Kraus. "So' It’s better than facing the Boss" Kraus shrugged, glancing at the child and resumed his occupation. Marcus looked at the body of the fallen child as the petal drifted down to lie in the girl's spilled blood. A child, innocent and pure like the rose petal which was now bloodied up like the humanity of the world, trained monsters that did the bidding of imposters. Marcus turned and continued the watch. One death is a tragedy, one million is a statistic. *** Aufständischer. I. “Jakob! Jakob!, come play...Please...Jakob!” “Go away Clara! Honestly can’t you just be a girl for once, just leave me alone.” “Fine.” *** “...Your daughter’s body has been identified as a victim of a grave accident...the Deutsche Democratic Republik gives their sincere condolences...” *** Jakob lifted the hood of his jacket And dug his hands deeper into his pockets. He picked up his pace and headed off into the alleyway, keeping to the shadows of the cold stoned buildings. It was long past curfew and DDR soldiers had been scattered throughout East Berlin, yet that did not stop Jakob from walking in the dead alleyways of East Berlin. He wasn’t scared of the notion of being caught anymore for it seemed being caught would be something interesting for him. His life was the same as any another and followed the same pattern as every other being in the East German region. It was like all of humanity had been caught in a cyclic rift that never changed, life never sped up, life never slowed down nor did it change in any regard. For the past 21 years he had been stuck in a rut and had to endure the monotony of what the government considered “progression”. “ULBRICHT SHOULD BE KILLED! HE DESTROYED MY LIFE, MY FAMILY, EVERYTHING! I DONT CARE IF YOU KILL ME BUT IT’S BETTER THEN LIVING IN THIS H-“ A round of gun fire sounded. “Clean this up.” Jakob couldn’t agree more. The DDR had destroyed everything he cherished: his mother left, his sister and father dead and anything worth enjoying was considered illegal or breeching the integrity of the great socialist world. Jakob pulled his coat tighter around him and left the back streets. *** Entering the solemn building, Erich trudged up the stairs to the fifth floor to find his childhood best friend. "Oh it's you again" said the teenage girl who was hoping it would be Jakob, but instead finding the blonde haired young man walking up past her door. Erich ignored the girl and pushed passed her whilst carrying on up the stairs to the fifth floor. Erich knew that she was one of them. So he didn't even bother talking to her or looking at her. He knocked on the door three times and the door opened. A young man with brown hair and green eyes opened the door and let him in. "Anything new'" asked Jakob. "Just watch your back. Father let it slip that they were tracking down all the people who have left our beautiful socialist totalitarian nation and that means-" "They could lead to me." finished Jakob. "I just wished she never left, life would've been easy that way. Have you seen that girl down on level three acting all infatuated with me' She is a really bad actress someone should tell her that." Erich chuckled at his friend. "Look just watch out, if you get caught then I get caught-" "HA! You’ve always been a selfish bastard haven't you! it's always been my neck on the line for you. Anyway how do you do it' How do you just take everything your father says'" "You get used to it, just like you get used to Kristall Vodka and Juwel Cigarettes. I just figured out the easiest thing to do is nod and say "yes Father" every so often, he thinks I'm going to be his successor and that I will 'uphold the socialist brotherhood throughout my life and be true to it till my deathbed' ...I swear the old man's delusional. Anyway that's all I came to tell you, by the way can I have this' I'm famished and-" "Get out, your father is a minister and you can go have dinner with Ulbricht." Jakob pushed Erich out of his small one bedroom apartment and closed the door, letting the warning sink in. Just watch your back. *** II. Jakob was stressed, they knew about his mother and they knew about him. They weren't supposed to know how could they have ever known. Jakob ran to the kitchen and raided the cupboards in search of matches, finding his prize he took them and ran to the bathroom where he stuck the match and lit everything: The letters from his mother, his British passport and all his official documents. If he was caught then Erich would be caught, if Erich was caught then the mission would be a fail and if the mission failed then there were about 20 other fellow Germans who would perish too. He opened up his windows to make the smell of burning leave the apartment. There was a knock. Jakob stopped. If he waited they'd suspect him more. If he was there soon they would think he was waiting for them or at least someone: so he waited. "4...3...2...1" He opened the door and kept his expression natural. "Hello officer, to what cause do you come here'" *** "Please, I don't know anything!" He pleaded to the man. "Too late Roth. We know everything." There was one bang and then there was silence. "Commander Zaiser, we have found some evidence: we found a bundle of unsent letters that were supposed to be sent to France." reported a young corporal. "Good, Eisenhauer see to having these scanned." Erich stepped out from shadows and nodded at his commander. He glanced at the body of his childhood best friend and felt a stab of remorse, but suppressed any outward expression of his emotion by saluting Marcus Zaiser and carrying out his orders. His neck was always on the line for him.