Levi chose to help the people in the building.
Written by Elizabeth
The ash, the flames, the screams. His head pounds as he struggles to breathe, the smoke burning his throat. Kicking at the closed door, he rushes in, tears falling freely down his cheeks. The people run out, hopefully heading to the other bunkers, as he looks around. Panic rises as a call for help shakes him from his spot.
“Le-Le!”
“Le-Le!”
Art by Elizabeth Tran
Fear sent his legs moving, as he dodges and dances around the falling and burning object. Roni, his little sister, she’s stuck. She’s going to die. Why is she here? Why isn’t she in the bunkers, safe with the others?
The smoke is getting worse, his voice too hurt to yell but Levi tries anyway.
“Ro-!”
“Roni!” Nothing. With a swift turn and a crack of a support beam, a scream shatters through the fire. Levi stops, his breaths stops, his own heart stops. Oh, please let that not be Roni. He ran faster, his clothes bitten by the flames, his flesh burns but he doesn’t notice. He can’t. Roni isn’t saying anything.
He sees something in the corner, and wishes that he didn’t. A pale arm sticks out from underneath rubble and wood, skin still smooth yet covered in blood, it’s tainted. His vision blurs as he stumbles toward it, body numb and lungs slowly perishing.
“...Roni?”
It hurts. The tears stinging his cheeks, the waves of heat on his skin, but it isn’t compared to the pain he feels when his eyes catch onto a smooth, glossed instrument. His guitar.
Sinking to the floor, he lets the fire get closer, the sweat peppering his body. He holds the guitar flush against his body, angry at himself for not being about to protect Roni. He couldn’t hear anything, let alone himself, so when arms wrap around his torso he fights as they drag him outside where it was safer.
Levi couldn’t understand, guitar in hand, he stares. Why did Roni have his guitar? The battle fell upon deaf ears as he is stuck in his own world. Why couldn’t he have been faster? Why didn’t he stay and protect her? Why did he have to fight? Why do the Germans hate them?
His mind is slowly cracking, he couldn’t handle it. It's his fault. His fault that Roni died. His fault that he isn’t strong enough. He has to pay. Numb, he picks up the gun, useless in the building, but hopefully useful here. He points it on his chest, over his shattered heart. The cool feel of it on his thin shirt soothes him as a twisted smile takes over his face. Finger on the trigger, he shuts his eyes, ready for the sweet relief of death. No. He faints. Not yet. Not now.
The morning light falls onto the ghetto, Levi feels a chill. He can’t. He’s too weak. He wants to be with his mom. He want to see Roni’s cute smile. He wants to be happy. So with harsh yank, his battered guitar in his hand, he pulls himself up, watching the early sun rise one last time. An experimental strum leads to a melody, the sorrowful notes echo across the battered, empty streets.
The people can hear. The Germans can hear. He didn’t care, the tears fall, and he plays. His emotions all put out for the world to hear, all of the sacrifices acknowledged in his song. He is free. He failed to protect, but he’s free. With each note, his heart lifts, a smile on his lips. It went faster and faster, the notes more beautiful and complicated by the second before ending peacefully.
It took only one shot. Levi fell once again, a smile on his face, as red stained his dirtied button-up. He played for Roni one last time, thinking proudly to himself, then everything faded to black.
The smoke is getting worse, his voice too hurt to yell but Levi tries anyway.
“Ro-!”
“Roni!” Nothing. With a swift turn and a crack of a support beam, a scream shatters through the fire. Levi stops, his breaths stops, his own heart stops. Oh, please let that not be Roni. He ran faster, his clothes bitten by the flames, his flesh burns but he doesn’t notice. He can’t. Roni isn’t saying anything.
He sees something in the corner, and wishes that he didn’t. A pale arm sticks out from underneath rubble and wood, skin still smooth yet covered in blood, it’s tainted. His vision blurs as he stumbles toward it, body numb and lungs slowly perishing.
“...Roni?”
It hurts. The tears stinging his cheeks, the waves of heat on his skin, but it isn’t compared to the pain he feels when his eyes catch onto a smooth, glossed instrument. His guitar.
Sinking to the floor, he lets the fire get closer, the sweat peppering his body. He holds the guitar flush against his body, angry at himself for not being about to protect Roni. He couldn’t hear anything, let alone himself, so when arms wrap around his torso he fights as they drag him outside where it was safer.
Levi couldn’t understand, guitar in hand, he stares. Why did Roni have his guitar? The battle fell upon deaf ears as he is stuck in his own world. Why couldn’t he have been faster? Why didn’t he stay and protect her? Why did he have to fight? Why do the Germans hate them?
His mind is slowly cracking, he couldn’t handle it. It's his fault. His fault that Roni died. His fault that he isn’t strong enough. He has to pay. Numb, he picks up the gun, useless in the building, but hopefully useful here. He points it on his chest, over his shattered heart. The cool feel of it on his thin shirt soothes him as a twisted smile takes over his face. Finger on the trigger, he shuts his eyes, ready for the sweet relief of death. No. He faints. Not yet. Not now.
The morning light falls onto the ghetto, Levi feels a chill. He can’t. He’s too weak. He wants to be with his mom. He want to see Roni’s cute smile. He wants to be happy. So with harsh yank, his battered guitar in his hand, he pulls himself up, watching the early sun rise one last time. An experimental strum leads to a melody, the sorrowful notes echo across the battered, empty streets.
The people can hear. The Germans can hear. He didn’t care, the tears fall, and he plays. His emotions all put out for the world to hear, all of the sacrifices acknowledged in his song. He is free. He failed to protect, but he’s free. With each note, his heart lifts, a smile on his lips. It went faster and faster, the notes more beautiful and complicated by the second before ending peacefully.
It took only one shot. Levi fell once again, a smile on his face, as red stained his dirtied button-up. He played for Roni one last time, thinking proudly to himself, then everything faded to black.