Sunburn

As I heared the cracking sound of the floor underneath my feet, my face catched some sunlight as the endless gray-coloured clouds let it peek through. It was the first day of spring in Germany, eventhough it was a little late since spring officialy started the 21st day of March. Today, the days were nearing the end of April. The ice and snow made place for grass, and new life to be born. It would have sounded strange if I said it out loud, but I somehow felt the earth turning, spinning around itself, and dancing with the sun and the moon. It wouldn’t matter if I told anyone. Most of the time, Magdalena didn’t allow me to meet new people. She was too scared, because she didn’t want anyone to know I was not normal. Sometimes, I would’ve sworn she wanted me to be normal. And besides, there was no one who actually understood me, ever.

I was seven years old. At least, I had been living with Magdalena for seven years. How old I really was, nobody knew. I didn’t grow like the other children in Berlin. To be honest, I never grew at all. All that ever made me age, was when I was 3. Magda told me she was really worried because I didn’t age in all the years I had lived with her. Because when I was three years old, I still had the body of a newborn baby. She took me to a doctor, a doctor I saw every week, measuring my improvements. But even he never understood me. One day, all of that changed. More mysteries began to spring. I regenerated. There was a bright strange light glowing around me, and within a few seconds, I looked 10 years older. Magdalena was scared, shocked, she forbid me to ever speak to other people, or go outside. No one would ever know the secrets about the mystery that was me.

It was early in the morning, the sun had just rosen and Berlin had barely woken yet, for it was only twice I meant to spot some men walking to work. In the cold winter that cursed middle europe this year, no single child wanted to play outside. Neither did anyone bother to casually hang out on their boats, drinking and laughing as it seemed like a tradition in this old city, where everyone was welcome and nothing would matter. Germans were the kindest people I had ever known. So might it actually be that they were the only people I was ever allowed to see. The window in my room, was up high and barely noticable. But I could see almost all of our street, and the small river we lived next to, the Spree. I could see the children playing outside, the boats softly blowing and floating through te water, I could see the city alive. It was nice to see people with such innocent lifes having fun, fooling around. Waking, working, getting drunk, and falling asleep again. They were people who were not like me. Humans they were called, and so did Magda call me. She wanted to believe I really was het child, her own perfect little daughter. The only problem was, that I was clearly not.

My bare feet continued to walk the old wood as I reached the window, and opened the glass object. I tried to reduce the noise by opening the window slowly, but the cracking sound still slipped through my fingers. It demolished the beautiful morning silence like an iron dagger. I was hoping I didn’t wake anyone, and luckily I succeeded. The silence returned, and I let the sunshine into my room. A sigh rolled over my lips. An unintended sigh, as I closed my eyes and let my skin meet the fresh sunlight. The beautiful year of 1935, starting to wake up.