[IC] Why Can't This Be? [arockysmith + tlstiffl]

[Tlstiffl]

Marta felt her feet beginning to swell up. How long has she been walking? And why did she decide to wear her heels today, of all days? She knew she was going to have to walk fifteen blocks from her school to her uncle’s estate, and yet she thought it would be best to be fashionable.

Bring a change of shoes. Like mum always says. Marta thought to herself as she took a moment to pause at the street corner, checking to make sure she there were no cars coming. She glanced down at her wristwatch. Half past four. At this rate, she was going to be late, but no one would be shocked. Marta was never on time. Even if her father had a car ready to drive her to where she needed to be, she would still manage to find a way to be late. And today was no different, but today she had a valid excuse, or at least a valid excuse in her mind.

It was her uncle’s 50th birthday today. Her mother has been planning the dinner for months and Marta was not allowed to forget. How could she though, when every night this past week,before Marta would go to bed, her mother would say “Don’t forget about Uncle Max’s birthday on the 5th.”

So the day is here: October 5th, 1938. Marta had school all morning. She was in her final year and she could not be more excited. Next fall, she would be living in Berlin studying music and art. Her passion of playing the piano has driven her to study hard and practice everyday, and the payoff is the knowledge that in less than a year, she would be an independent female living with a roommate in the “big city”.

Because her mother decided that the shindig needed to start as early as possible, in order for it to go as long as possible, Marta had to go straight from her classes in uptown to her Uncle’s estate 15 blocks south. Her father insisted, like always, having a car sent, but Marta declined, wanting to have the peace and quiet of that 30 minute walk. That 30 minutes has so far been 40 minute, plus the extra 15 minutes Marta took to change. She would not show up in her school uniform of a wool, grey skirt and button down, long-sleeved blouse. It was by no means fashionable. So when her lessons completed for the day, Marta slipped into the ladies’ lavatory and slipped on her favorite red and white polka dot wrap dress. The hem landed just below her knees and it was low-cut enough to make the boys wonder, without being labeled as improper. She touched up her make-up and spritz on her favorite Chanel perfume and was ready to go.

Lost in her train of thought, Marta did not realize she has been standing at the same street corner for a few minutes. Was it her mind’s way of delaying in the inevitable? Marta loved her Uncle Max, but she also knew her mother had a secret agenda with this party. Ever since Marta turned 16, her mother has made it her life goal to find Marta a husband. Getting married is something Marta would like to do one day, but her passion is her music right now. Marriage would come later, but her mother being old-fashioned, felt it was important for a girl to wed as soon as possible. And that husband must be handsome, rich, and smart. Everything a girl “desires”.

Marta isn’t attracted to the types of men, or in her mind boys, that associate with her parents and their friends. She believes a man should work hard for his money and be independent, whilst still being kind and respectful. Marta wants a man like her father; a man who grew up with nothing and worked his way to the highest position in the financial department of the German government. A man who still brings his wife flowers and tells her she is beautiful everyday. That is what Marta is attracted to.

Letting out a sigh, Marta finally got ready to cross the street when suddenly a delicious smell entered her nose. Looking right, she saw a little bakery about halfway down the block. Her nose and feet taking over control, she turned in that direction and began walking towards the bakery, completely unaware that the street she turned onto entered into a neighborhood that her mother always deemed as “unsafe and dirty.”

[arockysmith]

Ezra pulled fresh Chocolate Babka. It was the first time his parents had allowed him to make this all by himself, so he was proud of himself when he pulled it out of the oven and found it didn't smell like garbage. He would eventually have to learn how to make all his families recipes, Baer Bakery would soon be his once he finished high school. His parents had graciously allowed him to finish off his senior year, but it came at a price. His mother and father were overworked with no help. They weren't a poor family, but they couldn't afford to pay any staff. The bakery made just enough to pay the bills that piled up over time. Ezra felt especially bad about the hospital bills. He'd been badly beaten a couple weeks back by a group of Christian boys. He'd been stabbed in the stomach and now suffered a scar that would plague him. It didn't help that people who were non-Jewish viewed their shops as garbage.

It was a new experience on Germany now. What had once been a happy place Ezra grew up in slowly became his own personal hell. He'd convinced his parents that it was still safe for him to deliver some of the bread they made or different items to customers who were too scared to leave their homes, but he was on a tight leash these days. His family was very well known, so people knew to avoid him at all cost so they weren't considered sympathizers. He put the Babka down on the counter and began to slice it into pieces. His stomach growled a little as he debated taking a slice for himself. This was his favorite dessert after all. With a shake of the head he decided against it. His family could use what little money would come from that slice. Once he finished with that he began to set out some more Sufganiyot. These little guys were some of their money grabbers. Everyone enjoyed the homemade jelly that was stuffed inside them so much that his mom began to sell it on the side.

"One day mom...I'll be here to help you," He whispered to himself as he stood behind the counter and placed a couple loafs of bread into a white box. This would have to be delivered soon. A little old lady that Ezra couldn't remember the name of always placed an order for this bread. She was too scared to leave her house these days. Even in the Jewish parts of their town people against their faith would sneak in and use their trusting nature to cause harm. Ezra had began to hear every day about some unfortunate boy was beat up or girl was assaulted. It always angered him to the core. They weren't good enough to exist, but they were good enough for sex. He did his best not to despise the people of those other faiths, but he couldn't help it sometimes. Especially the rich ones. They always seemed to look down his community the most. They viewed him and other Jewish people as nothing more than monsters who wanted to watch their lovely country burn. Nobody ever bothered to ask, they were just lumped together under the words of that man.

The second Ezra had heard him speak, he knew his life was in danger. His trust diminished and he vowed to do his best to protect his mother and father no matter the cost. He'd give his life up for them. He'd even kill if he had to. After the attack he suffered there was nothing to scare him anymore. He had to be strong for his mom. If he so much as thought about crumbling his mother would surely follow and his father would think less of him. He had to prove to both of them that he was stronger than their doubts.

[Tlstiffl]

The smell was intoxicating. Marta has a sweet tooth, so whenever she smells the sweet aroma of chocolate and sugar, her mouth is instantly salivating. She continued down the street, the smell getting stronger as she neared the bakery. She looked into the window, where there was a display case of all sorts of pastries. They were different, she has never seen pastries like this before. But to her, the didn’t matter, if they taste as good as they smelled, they didn’t have to look like something she is use to.

Marta grew up in a bubble. Her mother has kept her on a pretty tight leash most of her life. So when Marta gets the opportunity like she did today to walk alone to her uncle’s estate, she didn’t hesitate to do it. There were so many parts of Frankfurt she has never seen, and she has lived here her entire life. Marta’s mother, Greta, didn’t like to speak much about her past. But last year, Marta questioned her father why mother was always nervous. Marta’s father, Henry, told her that when Greta was a little girl, her and her mother (Marta's grandmother) were robbed at gunpoint. It shook Greta to the core, and as a result, she is constantly checking behind her shoulder.

This fearful behavior translated into keeping her daughter as sheltered as possible. Only letting her go down to the corner market on Sundays and to school alone, anywhere else, Marta had to be accompanied. Living in this bubble meant Marta only knew people who had similar lifestyles as her parents. Rich Christians who have cars and big houses. Marta knew there were different types of people out in the world, and she wanted to get to know them. That is why when she convinced her father to let her go to Berlin next year, she sent her first semester of tuition the day after she was accepted.

Despite having an overbearing mother, Marta grew up very open-minded. She believed everyone was good, unless proven otherwise. It did not matter you religion, social status, race or anything. Her mother didn’t discriminate, but she definitely wasn’t reaching out to people who were different from her. When she went to the pharmacy, she would smile and nod at the pharmacist, who was Jewish, but she would never associate with him outside of there. Marta, however, loved starting up conversations with strangers. She learned the pharmacist’s name was Abraham and he had two daughters that were 10 and 8.

Marta was much like her father. Henry could get along with anyone he meets. That is how a poor farm boy is now a wealthy businessman. He worked hard in school, sparked up conversations with the businessmen who visited his family’s farm stand in town on the weekends, and made a name for himself. Henry had pride, but was never arrogant and never felt himself to be better than others. Which is why the past year, with the changes in the government that have happened, Henry has become less like the man he always has been. Not agreeing with him, that man, meant certain harm to him and his family. He had to put on a facade. He couldn’t let anyone know he was completely against Hitler.

Marta couldn’t stand it anymore. Her uncle’s birthday nearly forgotten about as she stared at the desserts through the window. Maybe if I bring something with me, mother will forgive my tardiness . Giving in, Marta took a step to the left and opened up the door that lead into the bakery, a little bell ringing as she did. The smell was even more intense and even more amazing inside. She looked around and say a young man standing behind the counter. He looked to be her age. Marta stepped up to the counter and smiled brightly. Marta was always smiling.

“Hi” she said in a sweet, gentle voice. “Everything smells so delicious in here.”

Little did she know, Marta had entered a bakery owned by a Jewish family. And the boy standing in front of her was going to change her life.

[arockysmith]

Ezra looked up from the paper work in front of him and stared at the girl. She was a new face, he was sure he'd never seen her walking the streets. The way she was dressed let him know right away that she was part of the population that was benefiting from the terror his people had to suffer. Either way, she was a potential customer so he flashed her a shy smile. It was better to be in good standing with someone like her, it would mean his bakery would live to see another day. She appeared to be around his age and he wondered if her parents knew she had strayed down this way. When she mentioned the smell of the shop he perked up a little bit.

"At least someone besides myself gets to enjoy the scent of the fresh Babka. If you like chocolate I suggest a slice of that. It's just fresh out of the oven not too long ago and I made it myself," Ezra said beaming a little with pride as he pointed to it in the glass case, "it is chocolate and I added a little bit of nuts to it. Don't tell the owners though."

His family wasn't big on changing their recipes. If they hadn't been gone for the evening he'd never would have gotten away with adding nuts. He also pointed to a couple macaroons and fresh loaves of bread. He wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for so he offered her up a variety of choices. He pleaded to his God that she would buy at least one thing, anything at this point. Business was slow today and they needed to make ends meet.

"I'll let you look around inside the cases to see if anything catches your fancy. If you need me just give me a shout," he said walking to the back to check on the inventory. He made sure that he could still her and the rest of the store. The last thing he needed was to be robbed. His parents would never let him live it down if something happened to the store on his watch.

[Tlstiffl]

Marta was becoming more and more glad she decided to walk today. This bakery was heaven on earth. Her sweet tooth was definitely a flaw, and her mother being the way she is, didn’t let Marta get too many sweets. A heavy girl will never find a husband. You must maintain your figure. But at this moment, Marta could eat everything in this bakery.

Her smiling, which hasn’t left her face, grew even larger when she heard the word “chocolate”. She looked over at the bread, which apparently is called babka, and saw the chocolate melted on top and inside.

“Oh that looks absolutely amazing.” Marta said as she had to keep from drooling on the counter. “And I think nuts are always the perfect addition.”

Marta looked into the display case more and saw macaroons, she recognized those. But there were so many other breads and pastries she has never seen. How was she ever going to be able to decide? Just as she was about to ask the boy for more advice, he said he was going into the back. Marta frowned slightly. She felt like a lost kid now. She didn’t even know where to begin, but she didn’t want to be a nuisance. This boy obviously was alone working and had a lot to do. He was probably used to his customers coming in and knowing instantly what they wanted.

Marta started to chew on her lip as she looked at everything in the case. She already knew she would get some of the babka, but it was a matter of deciding if she should get anything else. She was worst than a child who gets to go into the candy shop and is allowed to pick two things. Marta had enough money to get several things, but she didn’t want to seem like a glutton. Just call him up front. I am sure he will help , Marta thought to herself. She peeked around back and saw the back of the boy’s head as he was counting some items on a shelf. She didn’t want to interrupt what he was doing.

Suddenly, she heard the bell ring and turned around a saw an elderly man walk into the bakery. His eyes landed on Marta and he raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. He walked up to the counter and called out “Ezra?”

Marta could only assume this person was a regular and knew the boy who was in the back. So she had a name, Ezra. It was unique and Marta liked it. She continued to stand in front of the case, figuring she would let this elderly man get what he needed, since he probably knew exactly what he wanted. Marta was starting to feel pretty foolish; how hard is it to pick out a couple desserts?

[arockysmith]

Ezra turned around at the sound of his name and saw one of his regulars. He smiled as he tucked his pencil on his hear and walked over to the counter. He glanced at the girl and gave her a small nod and then turned his attention back to the older man. "I've got your order right here," he said reaching under the counter top and pulling out two big white boxes. There was a sticker on the box that read Baer Bakery and had a little Jewish star underneath right in the center. The labels would be changed by next week. His family decided not to advertise their faith any longer. The items they provided would also be tweaked to show more variety instead of mostly Jewish foods. His heart sank as passed the box over to the man. A small sigh escaped his lips and his smile fell slightly.

It hurt him to think that their religion was no longer something to be proud of, but something to be ashamed of. He could no longer speak about his faith freely or he might be overheard by some boys or the local authorities. They were meant to protect him, but that was no longer true since Hitler came around. His supporters marched their streets frequently threatening the lives of his friends and family. He looked over at the girl to see if she had noticed the star on the logo.

"Miss...do you still need time to decide or perhaps you changed your mind," he said wishing she would just leave. The last thing his family needed was a rich Christian girl tarnishing their name. He turned back to the gentleman and shrugged, "she appears to be new to this side of town. Be careful walking home..." The end of his sentence hinting that she might not be here alone.

[Tlstiffl]

Marta didn’t want to appear to be eavesdropping, but she was intrigued by the interaction between the young man and the elder. There was such ease and comfort between them; they may not be friends, but they are familiar enough with each other that they don’t need to say much to know what needs to happen. Marta feels the same way about Abraham, their pharmacist. Marta’s father has bad knees, so her and her mother are constantly picking up pills to help with the pain. It was the highlight of her week going into the pharmacy and having her conversation with Abraham. His life and family were so interesting to Marta, who is surrounded by people who act and talk like her mother. It becomes boring after awhile.

Marta completely missed the Star of David on the box, but she also wasn’t really looking. If she had, she would have thought nothing of it. It would make things clearer for her though. Her sheltered upbringing has made it that she knows enough about Judaism and its existence, but she knows nothing of its rituals and apparently food. She has never heard of babka or seen some of the other baked goods surrounding her.

When she heard Ezra say miss, she looked up at him and noticed he had a rather offended look on his face, as if Marta did something wrong. Just as she was about to ask about a loaf of bread that looked almost braided, which is called challah, she heard Ezra’s comment to the elderly man.

"she appears to be new to this side of town. Be careful walking home..."

Marta felt her heart stop. What was that suppose to mean? And then in an instant, it all made sense. She finally noticed the Star of David on the label, her lack of knowledge about all the food, the part of city she has never been to. This was a Jewish community and this bakery must be run by a Jewish family. And Marta, in her designer dress and heels, and pearl earrings on, was clearly not from this neighborhood.

Despite Greta’s best efforts to keep her daughter sheltered from the real world, Marta is fully aware of what is happening in the country she has lived in her entire life. She knows one man is flipping everything upside down and creating such a divide between the people. Marta, being naive and as optimistic as possible, truly wanted to believe that this discrimination and hate hadn’t trickled down into the mass population, but it clearly had. Just being a rich girl, who was brought up to believe something slightly different, makes her the enemy. Even though, Marta’s real belief is everyone is equal and can believe and do whatever they want so long as it doesn’t harm another person. She is 100% against Hitler.

But obviously this boy had her pegged differently. He thought she was here to hurt them, or rather assist someone else in hurting them. And Marta would never hurt another person, let alone a fly. Unsure of how to react, and her emotions running rampant, Marta felt tears beginning to swell in her eyes. She didn’t fully understand why she was so upset, but she knew that what is happening in this country must be a thousand times worse than she realized to have Ezra thinking she was the worst human ever.

Not wanting to cry in front of stranger, or upset them anymore, she quickly muttered, “I apologize. I just realized I am late for a party. Thank you for your help.”

She turned to leave, not before a single tear slipped from her eyes and she quickly wiped it away. She opened the door, the bell jingling once again, and Marta left. The second she was outside, she turned to head back in the direction she came. She made it about a block, before her emotions were too much. She sat down on the curb, letting the tears fall freely. She reached into clutch to see if she had a handkerchief, but unfortunately forgot one. So she settled with dabbing her cheeks with the backs of her hands and letting out a sigh. She felt defeated and so upset. She was definitely not in the mood to got to a party now.

[arockysmith]

Ezra hesitated a moment as he watched the girl leave. He hadn't meant to strike a nerve, but he knew his words were aimed to hurt her. The second it left his mouth he sightly regretted them. He knew first hand how it felt to be discriminated against, and yet here he was doing the same thing to a stranger. He quickly put a few treats in a white bag and walked outside quickly locking the shop up behind him as he debated which way to go in search of her. This area wasn't the nicest and there were plenty of men who would enjoy a little act of fun at her expense. If his mother would have heard his words she would have smacked him on the head and forced him to apologize, but without her here it wasn't necessarily an obligation. He thought about just going back into the bakery and forgetting the girls existence, until he felt a tightness in his chest.

"No Ezra. You are a man of pride and chivalry. You will find her and you will apologize," he said to himself as he headed up the sidewalk. This was was the closest way to leave town. There was no way she came from any other direction considering the shoes she had been wearing.

It took him a couple minutes before he spotted her sitting on the dirty curb and he bit his lip a little. She was going to dirty her clothes if she sat there much longer. He could already see eyes being drawn to her, and the looks the older men were giving her. She was so out of touch with this area that she had no idea what fear was. He walked over and sat down next to her placing the bag between them. A hundred different apologies played inside his head, but none of them seemed genuine enough. With a little bit of a sigh he nudged the bag closer to her.

"I know you're crying because of me. I don't think you meant me or that man any harm. But I thought that before and it landed me in a hospital bed. I saw you and I was quick to pass wrongful judgement. I ask for forgiveness. The world isn't safe for people like me, miss. I hope you can accept those treats as part of my apology. You left in a rush, you never got to try my chocolate babka," he said glancing over at her. The scar on his stomach began to throb as he flash backed to the night he was attacked. He had been so close to home, but he wasn't fast enough. Out of habit his hand reached for the area and he cringed a little. "I also ask that you let me walk you out of this area. A girl like you alone in a place like this is bound to end badly."

He glanced at the watch on his wrist, the glass slightly cracked. It was almost time for his parents to return back to the shop, but surely they would understand why he had to close the store for a couple minutes. They would praise him for being quick to offer protection after what happened last time. He would avoid the part of her being from a different part of their town, he would avoid the questions his mom would have and he would make sure this girl got somewhere safe.

[Tlstiffl]

Feeling her tears beginning to subside, Marta took a shaky breath in. She hated crying. It left her feeling warm in the face and exhausted. It was decided, she was going to go home and go to bed early. The emotional roller coaster she just went through drained her of all her energy. However, going home was a much longer walk than going to uncle’s estate. She had about 8 more blocks to go to get to her uncle’s, whereas, she would have to walk the 7 blocks back to her school, then it was another 20 minute walk from there to get to her house. But the thought of socializing right now was completely out of the question. Plus, her mother would be able to tell instantly that she was crying and she would interrogate Marta until she finally got the truth from her. Marta was never a good liar.

Marta glanced down at her watch, made of gold, and saw that it was five minutes past five. The party has started. Hopefully her mother would be too distracted to notice her absence. Though in reality, that would not be the case. Marta would have to make sure she telephoned her uncle’s house when she got home. Letting out a sigh, she went to adjust the buckle on her shoe and prepared to leave, when she heard someone sit down next to her. It startled her a bit and she looked over and saw Ezra sitting next to her.

Before she could get a word out and ask him what he was doing there, he began his apology. She gave Ezra her full attention, wanting him to know she was taking him seriously. Technically yes, she was crying because of him, but not because of how he acted, but because of the reason he had to act like that. She despised what was happening in the world right now. The hate. It was the worst poison in the world and if Marta could, she would create an antidote with love. She is too optimistic for her own good sometimes. It gets her in some awkward and rough situations sometimes, like the current predicament she was in now.

When Ezra mentioned how he was in the hospital because of all the terrible things happening, she let out a soft gasp. Aside from the one comment he made, Ezra seemed like a gentleman, definitely not a person who should land in the hospital because a couple of people felt that his religion deemed him as unworthy to exist. That thought brought tears back into Marta’s eyes, but she didn’t want to be selfish and have Ezra think everything was about her, so she held them in.

Marta glanced down at the bag of treats Ezra brought, and a small smile graced her lips. Guess she would quench her sweet tooth after all. She was about to thank him, when she noticed a cringe on his face and him holding his stomach. Unaware of why he was in the hospital, and why he was holding his stomach, Marta became concerned. Maybe he was sick? Did he need help?

Ignoring Ezra’s comment about walking her home, though she heard him say it and it made butterflies form in her stomach for brief moment. No guy has ever offered to walk her home. But that wasn’t what was important. Ezra, who was clearly in some sort of pain, needed to be the focus.

Shifting slightly so she faced him more, Marta placed a gentle hand on Ezra’s forearm.

“Are you ok? Do you need something? Medicine? A doctor?” There was genuine concern in her voice and in her eyes. Marta was a caretaker. She hated seeing other people, or animals, hurt. She would do whatever she could to make them better.

[arockysmith]

Ezra flinched at the touch of her hand on his arm. He looked at her confused. He couldn't believe she was actually touching him in a way nobody would ever dare to. His muscles tensed up causing a sharp pain to shoot from his abdomen up to his chest. He let out a small gasp before deciding exactly what to say to her. "I'm not really sure how one goes about saying this. I don't need medical attention. I've only been out of the hospital a short while. I've been on my feet too much between school and working in the bakery. Someone with a gold watch similar to yours, but more masculine, thought I wasn't worthy of life anymore," he said lifting his shirt up and gently placing her hand on the wound, "here is where he used a knife to prove his point at first," he moved her hand over and up slightly below where the heart was located, "these four are when his friends each took a turn cutting me open." The scars were in the shape of a swastika, he was forever branded. He hadn't realized his voice was shaking, and as he dropped her hand the flashbacks began to happen transporting him back to that day.

"Looky what we have here boys," The leader of the group had said as Ezra passed between him and his friends. He'd been holding a box from the bakery. Desserts his mother had wanted him to bring home to celebrate his birthday. "You people, thinking you deserve to coexist with us. Your beliefs so skewed. The reason our economy is failing is all because of you Jews."

Ezra stopped walking and turned to the face the boy. He looked no older than him, but the hate in his eyes aged him. Ezra could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he looked back down the street trying to count how many more buildings he had to get pass before he reached his home. He hadn't been prepared for this, and he could feel his legs growing weak. Just standing there felt like it took all his energy. He had one second to decide what to do, and just as he took off running, dropping the box, the boy jumped on him. Ezra hit the ground with a thud and when he turned over there was no time to react. He was stunned at first when he felt the warm liquid trailing out of his body. His hand quickly moved to the wound and when he looked at them they were drenched in red. The pain hadn't set it when the group of boys lifted his shirt up.

When they finally left him there Ezra let out a wail more from anger than pain. He knew what was on his chest. The symbol that was all around non Jewish communities. His body would never be his own. His mother couldn't look at him at the hospital and his father was too saddened to even speak.

Every morning he would stare at his chest in the dirty bathroom mirror and wonder what he had done to deserve it, but he already knew the answer. He was Jewish, there was no other rhyme or reason. Being this religion was his only crime and he would forever have to remember that.

He turned his focus back onto the girl and forced a smile. A tear had began to fall down his face and he let out a sigh, "Let's get going. You look like you live far. I suggest taking your shoes off and holding them, or I could try and carry you on my back. You can say no. I know people like me have no right to even ask to protect you, but I've seen the bad in this country and if I let you go alone without even offering to join I'd blame myself if anything happened."

[Tlstiffl]

Marta saw Ezra flinch and she quickly removed her hand from his arm. Did she hurt him more? Was he disgusted by her touching him? Or has his experience he went through caused his nerves to constantly be on edge? Marta didn’t want to admit it, but she believed it was the latter. No one deserved to live a life of fear just because they believe something than someone else doesn't. What did it really matter? In reality, every person is only on this planet for a short period of time, why waste it by trying to tear down someone else?

Marta’s eyes were swelling up more and more, and she felt a weight forming in her chest. She listened as Ezra explained that he was only in pain because of what has already happened to him. The mention of her watch, she glanced down and suddenly it felt like a thousand pounds on her wrist. How could she walk around with such a fine piece of jewelry, when so many people were struggling just to put food on the table. Marta felt so ashamed at that moment.

Suddenly, she felt him take her hand, and was confused for a second, before her hand was touching the bare skin of his chest. Under normal circumstances, Marta would be freaking out internally; she was touching a boy’s skin. However, the current situation, Marta wasn’t even phased by it because the instant she felt the welts and raised skin of Ezra’s scars, nothing else mattered. The heat radiating off of them still present. Marta couldn’t explain the emotions forming deep inside her. She has never felt this much grief and despair before, especially towards a complete stranger.

She saw Ezra beginning to shake, and let her arm be moved from his chest. She could tell he was reliving the moment, his face becoming distorted with pain and fear. Marta just sat there, feeling helpless. She wanted to take this boy’s pain away. She wanted him to forget what happened to him. But how can you forget something so horrific? Marta cannot even believe Ezra is still able to function normally-for the most part.

She could tell he was coming out of his trance and saw him look at her. And the minute that tear left Ezra’s eyes, it was settled. Marta was going to do whatever she could for this boy. She didn’t know what that meant yet, and she knew he may never want to see her after this, but her gut was telling her to be there for him.

Without knowing how uncomfortable this would make him, Marta reached up and wiped the tear that fell from Ezra’s eyes, being gentle as she could. Her hand lingered for a moment, before lowering it. She listened as he went on again about taking her home, and that he would even carry her, even though he was clearly in pain. How could a person who has been through what he has, still be so caring and sweet? And then his comment about him having no right to protect her, Marta felt like the air was knocked out of her chest. Curse this world. Curse the people who have done this to Ezra. Curse Hitler.

At the moment though, getting home was the last thing Marta wanted to do.

“Ezra” saying his name for the first time, and also realizing she hasn’t said her name, but it didn’t matter at the moment. “I wish there were a thousand ways I could right the wrong that has happened to you. No one deserves it, especially not someone as sweet and kind as you. I can only hope that you realize that I want nothing but happiness for you.”

She didn’t know when she did it, but at some point during her little speech, she took Ezra’s hands into her soft, tiny hands. She said her part, though there were still a million thoughts crossing her mind, but she didn’t want to overwhelm the boy.

Suddenly, there was a loud clap of thunder above their heads. Marta glanced up and noticed for the first time the dark clouds forming. It was definitely going to rain any minute, but for now, Marta was only concerned about the boy sitting next to her, who she turned her full attention back to.

[arockysmith]

Ezra tilted his head a little to the side. She was being nice to him, but as much as he wanted to keep holding her hands he pulled them away. If anyone saw her she'd be labeled a sympathizer. He shrugged a little. She was worrying about him for reason other than possibly guilt. He found it impossible to believe there could be someone out of his faith in a time like this that would ever give two shits about him. He flashed her a small smile to show his appreciation before standing up and pulling her with him. The streets had begun to clear when the air started to smell like rain and the light outside began to disappear. He glanced up at the sky and he started to regret not bringing a jacket or something that could shield them from the rain.

"I didn't let you feel my skin so you would feel sorry for me. I did it so you would understand. You don't understand...you don't understand anything," he said sadly, "you live in those big houses encased inside a bubble of the rich. Protected because you're part of the system, not part of the problem. You get to go home and forget I exist and pretty soon I might not, but I get to go home and remember your kindness. I get stuck with the idea that maybe they're not all bad, and I get that small bit of hope that maybe this country won't listen to him. I'll get beaten again and you'll be in my mind, where you have no right to be. But you won't have thought of me once."

His words were soft, full of defeat as he stood there. A few drops of rain seemed to fall when his voice stopped. The curls in his hair bounced a little and he looked up wondering if he'd ever get to feel the rain when he was older. Would he live long enough to teach his own kids that looking up at the rain could bring a sense of calmness and security. He lost himself for a moment as he tried to think of the future he so desperately wanted, but all he saw was her face behind his eyes. Her eyes holding the guilt of something she had no control over. She seemed to hang onto every word he said and it pained him to break down the barrier her parents seemed to build around her. He saw her crying...crying because of him. In his mind he reached out a hand and wiped away a tear the way she had done for him.

"I should start getting you home. Lead the way, miss," Ezra said not knowing what else to call this girl, but even if he did know her name he would never speak it. To speak a name meant friendship and he would not allow himself to get close to someone that could be his undoing. He looked back to her and started to reach out his hand so she could guide him, but then he let his arm drop. She wasn't another girl from down the street. He had no right to touch her. She was part of the elite.

[Tlstiffl]

When she felt Ezra drop her hands, she felt like it was more than just that. It felt like Ezra was already giving up, though what he was giving up on exactly was a bit unclear. In a way, it was like he was giving up on Marta, even though, what reason did he have to believe in her? What could she possibly do to help him or make things better? Sure, he father held a pretty influential position in the government, but he would not sacrifice his job, and potentially his family’s safety, just to help one boy. But surely there had to be something Marta could do, but like always, her hopeful behavior blinded her from the reality.

She felt Ezra standing, helping her up as she did. She made sure to straighten her dress since it bunched up while sitting on the ground. Marta looked up at Ezra as he began to speak, and Marta almost wished he hadn’t. He spoke so bluntly, it almost made Marta want to run away. But that would just prove what he was saying to be correct. She was one of the lucky ones. She had everything in the world, while he had nothing. Even if there wasn’t a war brewing, and it was just a normal day, their social standings would still make Marta the elite, and Ezra just the rats in the gutter of the streets that her type of people walked on everyday. But that was just it, Marta didn’t want to be like those people.

Marta wanted to surround herself with every type of person, culture, food, experience she could imagine. She didn’t want to live in the bubble, and she was doing whatever she could to pop it. Marta would think of Ezra, everyday, for the unforeseeable future. Their short interaction has impacted her life more than he could imagine. She would not forget how the world they live in made him question her reasoning for being in the bakery. She would not forget how, despite his fears about her, he came to her aid after she fled. She would not forget the look in his eyes as she stared at him, as if there was so much more he wanted to say and do.

Marta was speechless. Which, for her, was a rare thing. She didn’t want to go home, but what else was she suppose to do? Clearly Ezra had his mind made up; he wanted her out of his life, so that he could forget about her. Marta didn’t want to give up, but her naivety making it impossible to come up with a solution.

With a shaky breath, she turned and started to head towards the direction of her house. Every step she took felt like a weight was being added to her shoulders. Her footsteps ringing in her ears. This can’t be it she thought to herself as she felt a raindrop on her forehead. Don’t give up Marta! Do something!

Marta can be very stubborn, which has proven helpful, at least in terms of getting what she wants, from her father and on occasion, her mother. If she wasn’t as stubborn as she was, she would have never convinced her father to let her go to Berlin. Or convince her mother to let her walk to her uncle’s party today. And it was about to prove useful once again, as her stubbornness made her stop walking and face Ezra again.

At the moment though, she was still lost for words, but she had to let Ezra know she wasn’t going anywhere. That he was stuck with her now. So her instincts kicked in and she did the only thing she could think to do.

Marta leaned over, her hands landing gently on Ezra’s chest, as she stood on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on Ezra’s lips. It was a soft, and did not last very long, but it felt so right to Marta. She pulled back, a look of shock on her face. She could not believe she did that, but she did not regret it. However, she was speechless before, now Marta was pretty sure she didn’t even know how to form words. Did she just take it too far?

[arockysmith]

Ezra stood there staring at her in shock. He tried to process what had just happened, but he wasn't sure he even knew. He could feel the warmth of her hand still on his chest and his cheeks burned red, but he wasn't sure if it was from irritation or the fact that she had just given him his first kiss. He was seventeen, but he'd never had a girlfriend. There was never time to even think about it. His parents had made sure they'd be the ones to dictate whoever it was he married in the same that their parents did. He hadn't realized his arm was around her waist until he went to look down at his feet.

"Why?" was the only word he could seem to get out at first. Did she not hear him before? Was she trying to torture him? Was this her way to hurt him? She was physically weaker than him so maybe this was how girls like her did things. Then used their fist, while the girls used their lips. His face changed a little to show the anger, an then went back to the confused lost child look. "Why did you?" words began to form, but he still couldn't figure out how to react. "Why do you want me to suffer?"

His words felt like poison. Why do you want me to suffer? The words echoed in his head and he wanted to take them back, but that was the thing about words. No matter how much you regret them once their said the damage is done. He gently grabbed her arm doing his best to keep his composure but knowing he was failing. If his parents could see him now they'd yank him away and force him to leave without looking back. This girl was playing with fire and she was going to burn herself. He forced his eyes to meet hers and he felt like he could see inside her soul, to the core of her being.

She wasn't being malicious, the way he felt towards the kiss was not what she had wanted from him. She wanted him to know something, but all he could think about was the little bit of eyes watching them. The news of the kiss would reach is parents. The women on this street had big mouths and his family was the best bakery, word would get back to them. He could feel his fathers disappointed gaze and the way his mother would look at him in fear. If news got out about this to the wrong people he was putting his life on the line and that was something she didn't seem to grasp.

He took a step towards her. It was small and timid. His body tensed and before he could stop himself his hand was running through her blonde locks and he was leaning towards her. "Why do you want to me to think about you when it could very well be my downfall. You're a naive girl. Kissing a stranger the way you did. Pushing yourself into me through just your lips. Why do you want me to suffer? Every time I close my eyes I'll see you and I'll feel those lips," his thumb gently traced her mouth, "I'll feel your hair in my hand and I'll be left wondering why I met you at a time like this, and you'll be sitting in your bedroom on your comfortable bed wondering why I'm being so cold towards you. If your smart you'll never come to that bakery, my bakery, and you'll never think about me again. But I don't think you're that smart."

His eyes darted around her face trying to see how she was taking his words. He was still a teenager and when someone gives you the smallest bit of affection after being through so much pain you can't help but love them in an instant. He started to wish he would die right there so he wouldn't have to suffer, so she wouldn't have to see the world crumble at her feet. If she stuck around long enough and if Hitler kept speaking then she would slowly see his decline into nothing but madness as he held onto her memory, this memory.

[Tlstiffl]

Marta stood there, unable to move or say anything. Truth was, she didn’t want to move, she truly believed she was exactly where she should be. And when her mind finally processed the arm that was resting around her waist, Ezra’s arm, she felt so safe and secure in that moment, even if it was the farthest thing from the truth. Completely oblivious to the stares of people around them, through curtained windows, or just on the other side of the street, Marta did not realize how much damage she may have just caused. To her though, she was still in shock that she just initiated her first ever kiss. Yes Marta was beautiful, and all the boys on her street like to flirt with her, but Marta never paid them any attention. She was waiting for the right guy, despite what her mother may think. Marta is waiting for love.

She looked up, her cheeks still very flushed from the kiss, and saw so many emotions in Ezra’s eyes. And she heard him start to form his words, faltering at times. And when she saw the flash of anger and heard him ask her why she wanted him to suffer, Marta felt her knees almost give out from beneath her. What had she done? Why did her brain, and heart, believe this to be the right thing to do? It was too late to change what she had done,

Her stupidity becoming more and more clear to her. Her actions would leave no effect on her, but she may have just dug Ezra’s grave. They weren’t on her side of town, they were on his. His neighbors were the witnesses. Ezra would truly be the one who suffers. There would be no logical way of her parents ever finding out what happened, unless she told them. She could go home tonight, lay in bed and know she would be able to walk out her front door tomorrow without fear of someone glaring at her, or even worse, attacking her. The same couldn't be said for Ezra. Marta could die from idiocy in this moment.

Marta fully expected Ezra to push her away, hell even slap her at this point. She deserved it. However, what he did next turned Marta into a shivering puddle of a mess.

She felt Ezra step closer to her, his body’s warmth enveloping her as the rain started to fall more heavily now. At this rate, the two of them would be drenched in a matter of minutes. She couldn’t help but let her eyelids flutter shut as Ezra ran his hand through her hair. Despite what was happening right now, the calmness of having a person touch her hair will always be soothing. She slowly opened her eyes again and listened to his words, feeling his delicate fingers upon her face. It was so bittersweet. He wasn’t mad that she kissed him, but he seemed sure it would never and should never happen again. Marta didn’t want that.

Marta had no way of knowing what would happen next, but she does know that all the emotions running through her right now, there was something different about them. Something she has never felt before. While Marta may be a likable person and befriend anyone who just says "hi" to her, there are only a handful of people she deems worthy of her love. That included her parents, aunts and uncles and grandparents. And her best friend, Hilda. But the love she holds for them is tender and sweet. But the emotions she is feelings towards Ezra right now felt similar, but with a fiery passion behind them that did not feel like they would ever extinguish. Was this what it felt like to be falling in love?

Her body was beginning to tremble from the cold rain and from the pure adrenaline and emotions coursing through her body. Her eyes have not left Ezra’s and she has made no indication of moving from his arms. His comment about never going back the bakery, and her not being smart and not listening, nailed it right on the head. It is not even an option. She would see Ezra again.

Her hand, which was still resting on Ezra’s chest, reached up and rested on the back of his neck, letting her fingers play with his curly locks at the base of his neck. Finally breaking her silence, Marta closed the gap between their bodies more and said, “I don’t want you to be left wondering. I want you to feel those things everyday, for real. I can’t pretend I didn’t meet you Ezra. And I will not stay away.”

[arockysmith]

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and bring him back to reality. The arm he placed on her body dropped to his head and his head fell forward leaning against hers a moment before he pulled away. He took a couple breaths and noticed her shivering. He had to get her home or she'd get sick and the last thing he needed was for a family like hers finding out he had kept their daughter in the rain over a kiss that would never be anything more than that. He gently nudged her so that she was facing the way she came and began to take long strides out of his neighborhood. He could hear the tapping of her shoes behind him as he did his best to avoid looking back at her.

"All I have to do is get her back to her own people. Somewhere she's familiar with and then I can go back home. I can pretend this was all a dream," he said to himself his pace quickened.

He had to get back to his parents. To the bakery to make that delivery for the old lady. She'd need the bread, and she wouldn't go get it herself. She was too frail and fearful to leave her home. His eyes stayed focused on the floor. The rain began to soak into his clothes sending a small shiver down his spine as he finally looked up.

"I...I don't know where to take you," he said when he finally stopped walking and put his attention back to her, "Why would you kiss me? I don't even know where you live and yet you took my first kiss. I don't even know your name, but you've got me out here worrying about your life over mine."

He was getting frustrated. His emotions couldn't decide on what was more important. Part of him wanted to kiss her again. To have his arm around her waist and to let her know he was grateful for their encounter. Another part of him was angry with her. Furious that she thought she had the right to put her lips to his. Like it was no big deal, which for her wasn't. She would go home and be okay. He would turn back around alone and the eyes would follow him home. Whispers would happen on the streets and he'd end up back in the hospital by next week. The other part of him was scared. Scared he'd never see her again. That she was just words and no actions. He would let her in and she would leave him high and dry with nothing but memories of what might have been had he been anyone else but himself.

They were out of his street by then and he could see the propaganda on the walls. Flyers hung around them, blaming the Jewish community for everything. People hailing Hitler with their friends and laughing. Making jokes about his religion and calling them scum. He became very aware of the fact that his legs felt heavy and he wasn't sure he'd be able to run if he had to. He wouldn't be able to protect her if something happened and she tried to play hero. His breathing became loud and he felt like the world was spinning. He could hear the voice in the back of his mind from the memory laughing. Taunting. Everything was taunting him. He held his stomach with one hand and his other hand moved the swastika carved into his chest.

"It's not safe...it's not safe," he repeated the mantra in a low voice. He looked like a lost child searching for his mother. His eyes were wide and with each breath his voice seemed to lose itself. "I'm not safe...I'm not safe..."

His mother's warning played itself on repeat in his brain "Ezra, no going out alone. You stay in the shop or you walk with a group to school. You wait for us to go home. Ezra, no going out alone. You stay in the shop or you walk with a group to school. You wait for us to go home. Ezra, no going out alone. You stay in the shop or you walk with a group to school. You wait for us to go home." He'd really hear from her and his father would just grunt and pretend he wasn't thanking the lord that his son was brought home safe and sound.

"I'm not safe...I'm not safe..." Ezra's hands had made it to his ears and he closed his eyes wanting any form of comfort or any sign of safety. He was out of his element. He was alone. She was there physically, but in his mind he was by himself and he could already see his demise. He wanted for her to reach out to him, but at the same time prayed that she wouldn't touch him. That she would keep walking and never look back.

[Tlstiffl]

Marta held onto all the hope she had left, and just prayed Ezra would accept her presence. That he would let her into his world, even if it was baby steps. Marta hoped that if she could get closer to him, that he would be more comfortable around her and she could find better ways of helping him. And in return, Marta would get to be around him. Ezra’s soul and being was engraved in Marta’s heart now. She wanted to know everything about him. She wanted to run her fingers over all the skin on his body, scarred or not. She wanted to give him sunshine in darkness. She wanted to be his everything.

But that dream, as newly formed as it was, came crashing down when she felt Ezra turn her to face the direction she was suppose to go and starting walking ahead of her. She froze for a second, unable to process how quickly everything just changed. She didn’t want to follow, yet at the same time, she didn’t want to leave his side. So she started to try and catch up, her heels clicking with every step. She felt herself slip a couple of times on the wet pavement, but she was able to stay standing.

Marta heard Ezra say something, but it was so quiet and not directed at her, so she wasn’t sure what he did say. Maybe it was to himself? Marta was definitely guilty of talking to herself a lot; being an only child meant having a lot of imaginary friends growing up. But just as quickly as Ezra had started to move, he suddenly stopped. Marta took a moment to get her bearings and saw they were walking in the opposite direction of her school, but were now on her “side of town”.

Ezra mentioning he didn’t know where to take her, Marta was about to retort and say she didn’t want to go home, but he continued to speak. It seemed all the questions he was asking were rhetorical because he didn’t give her a chance to answer. Her eyebrows raised when he said she gave him his first kiss. How could a handsome, charming guy like Ezra have never been kissed before? She imagined girls lining up in the bakery just for the chance.

Marta didn’t even care that he didn’t know her name, though that should eventually be remedied, but for now, names weren’t important. Though Ezra was the most special name she has ever heard. Marta was about to comment and say that her life didn’t matter, at least, not in comparison to his. He probably had so many more reasons to live. He had a family who needed him, a neighborhood who depended on him, and a battle to fight against the rest of the country. What was Marta’s purpose? To play a piano; like that was going to make a difference.

Marta finally had so much she wanted to say, to try and make Ezra understand why she did the things she did. But she noticed Ezra’s eyes were no longer on her and were looking at the surroundings. Marta took a moment to look and try and see what he saw, and it didn’t take her even half a second to realize. The propaganda. It was plastered on every inch of real estate in this part of the city. Swastikas covering every inch of bare wall. The sight made Marta sick to the stomach.

Being sheltered, and living in her own world sometimes, Marta had been completely oblivious to these signs, even though she walked by them on a daily basis. She subconsciously chose not to see them because of the awfulness. Now it was different. She would never forget these images. They would haunt her dreams.

She turned to apologize to Ezra and to say they could turn around, but she noticed Ezra’s mind was somewhere else. He was in a catatonic state, repeating the same phrase over and over… I’m not safe.

And the part that scared Marta half to death was, he was right. He wasn’t safe, especially not here. If something were to happen, Ezra would be the target. He is the enemy here. And Marta would not be able to save him. Knowing she had to get him out of here, she looked around and saw a cab parked on the corner. Taking Ezra’s hand, she encouraged him to walk with her and over to the cab. She opened the door and sort of pushed Ezra in, without actually shoving him. She followed him, and sat down, closing the door behind her.

The driver looked at her through his rear-view mirror, and then she saw his eyes flicker to Ezra who was shaking and still mumbling to himself. Marta briefly panicked. Would the cabbie drive them or hurt them? And also where were they going to go? Marta knew Ezra would not want to go to her house, so she supposed the best option was to go back to the bakery.

She looked at the cab driver and said “Corner of Nederman and Comstock.”

Comstock was the road she had originally been on that lead to her uncle’s. She is glad she remembered what street the bakery was on.

It was a short commute, but it was definitely farther than she thought. How long had they been walking? When the cab stopped, Marta reached into her purse and took out the necessary coins, plus a generous tip, and handed them to the driver. Hopefully the tip would be a hint to this man to keep his mouth shut.

She opened the door and got out, reaching in to take Ezra’s hands and lead him out. She moved them the few extra feet until they stood in front of the bakery once more. Marta looked around and noticed there was another door off to the side that appeared to lead up to an apartment above the bakery. Marta had a hunch that was where Ezra and his family lived. So walking with him over to that door, her hand still clutching his, she turned and looked at him. So much worry in her eyes.

“Ezra, do you have the key?” she asked, hoping Ezra was aware enough to know where he was and that it would be best for them to get inside as quickly as possible.

[arockysmith]

Ezra allowed her to drag him along as he forced his eyes open. He felt like everyone was staring at him, like they knew he was Jewish and didn't belong. He grew scared that they would follow them when she shoved him into the cab. His leg began to shake and he could feel the cab driver looking back at him wondering what was wrong. Did he know? Would he listen and take them back to his store? Marta dragged him from the car to his front door and he stood there confused at her words. Key. He needed to find his keys. He began to pat himself down until he felt a bulge in his pocket.

"I...I..." he couldn't get the sentence out his voice was shaking.

He hadn't realized how traumatized he was from the attack until this moment when he felt like the air was no longer in his lungs. He couldn't suck enough of it in. He passed her the keys and grabbed her hand in the process scared to let it go. "Not safe," he said to her, his eyes wild. "They'll kill me...they'll see you and they'll say I hurt you," he said finding his words once more. He grabbed her hand tighter digging the keys into both of their palms. His mind was scattered and nothing was making sense. He was back home, why was he scared still? Why did she stay with him? He finally released her hand, but he kept his on on her wrist.

The feeling of her skin reminding him that he wasn't dreaming right now. This wasn't one of his terrors. This was real life and he was failing at it. He glanced around at the people and caught a couple stares from older women. Some of them looked concerned others wondered why this girl was with him. He was sure they'd ask his parents about it, but they wouldn't come up to them. Not when he looked like someone punched him in the gut. He could hear the keys in the lock as she opened the door for both of them.

He felt himself moving closer to her body. His front pressed against her back as his arms found their way around her stomach. He was scared to let her go, that if he did she'd disappear and he'd be alone again on the side walk bleeding out. He could hear the chants of Hitler still in his head from earlier. He'd never seen so many slurs on one piece of paper. That was who he was now. He wasn't a person to most of these people anymore. He was just the problem that would soon be eradicated.

The made it up the stairs to a small home with one bedroom. The living room was tiny and on the floor were a couple blankets and pillows from where he'd slept the previous night. He pushed her gently toward the sofa and forced her to sit with him. He wasn't sure why he needed her comfort, but he refused to let her go. Ezra curled his legs in close and laid with his head resting in this strangers lap while he shook, partially from the cold and partially from the fear.

"Don't go. Don't leave me, please," he begged quietly.

[Tlstiffl]

Marta watched as Ezra tried to find his keys. The simplest of tasks was making the boy go crazy. What had Marta done? She should have never walked into that bakery today. Ezra, despite what has happened to him, was learning how to cope. He was doing his best to live as normal a life as possible. Then Marta shows up and pulls the rug out from under him. It was her fault that the boy was spiraling out of control now. The guilt suddenly made everything seem not worth it. But she couldn’t leave, not now.

She felt Ezra put the keys in her hand, holding onto them and her hand tightly. She felt the metal of the keys digging into her skin, but she didn’t let the pain show. Once Ezra released her hand enough so she could open the door, she turn and put the key into the lock. As she fiddled to find the right one, since there were a couple different sets on the ring, she felt Ezra’s body push against her and him wrapping his arms around her waist. At that moment, she knew she was the boy’s anchor. Without her, he would come crashing down. It terrified her, but she wanted to be that for him, even if he was this way because of her.

Finally finding the right key, Marta opened the door and pulled away from Ezra enough to grab his hand and lead him up the flight of stairs. The wood creaked beneath their feet as they entered into the small living corridors above the bakery. Marta didn’t have much a chance to look around before she was being pulled over to the couch. If this was just a normal day, and Marta was visiting Ezra’s house under different circumstances, she would feel rude sitting on the furniture soaking wet. But at this time, it didn’t matter.

She sat down and barely had time to put her purse on the ground next to her, when she felt Ezra crawl onto the couch and lay his head on her lap. Looking down, she felt the tears forming once again in her eyes. She reached down with her hand, and started to gently stroke the boy’s wet hair, hoping it would help to sooth him. Hearing him say to not leave her, Marta couldn’t help let a little sob escape her lips.

“I’ll never leave you.” She whispered, not even sure if it was loud enough for Ezra to hear.

She continued to caress the boy’s hair as she reached up and pulled a blanket down from the back of the couch and placed it over the boy’s body, hopefully to help him stop shaking. So many thoughts flying through her mind, but the overwhelming though was You did this. This is all your fault.

Why didn’t she just let him take her home like he originally wanted? Why did she kiss him? Why was so stubborn about staying in this boy’s life, when she is so clearly ruining it even more. But she did do all these things, and she couldn’t take it back. And deep down she didn’t want to take it back. Maybe all of this was happening for a reason. Maybe Ezra needed to hit rock bottom, and Marta needed to be there to help pick him up again. It seemed as though up to this point, Ezra was living in a bit of denial. He is aware of what happened to him, but he wouldn’t allow his mind to process what it did to him emotionally. How the scars were not just physical.

She continued to sit there, noticing the boy’s breathing began to even out and became more shallow. He appeared to be calming down a little, or so she hoped. Taking a chance, she leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead. Marta figured they would have to get up at some point. Ezra needed to put dry clothes on, and Marta needed to find a phone so she could ring her uncle’s estate to let everyone know she was alive and well.

But for now, all that mattered was continuing to sooth the boy who was laying on her lap. The boy who she was starting to fall in love with.

[arockysmith]

"Ezra! How many times have I told you not to leave the bakery without one of us!" His mom called from the bottom of the steps. A low grunt escaped his fathers lips as his feet marched up the stairs. "Ezra! At least answer when I --" she was cut off when she bumped into the back of his father at the top of the step. "Oh Abe, move out of the...way" her words came out breathy when she saw her son laying on top of the girl. Her mother instincts kicked into high gear and she pushed by her husband to her child. "Ezra! What happened?! Did someone hurt him?" she asked the girl frantically, but not waiting for any response.

"Mom..." Ezra whispered reaching a hand out, which she grabbed roughly. "Mom...it's not safe. I'm not safe," he continued as he turned his head and buried into the girls lap. You could hear a small sob coming from him as his shoulders shook.

His dad let out another grunt, "Poor girl's scared because of him. Look at em. Soaking wet. She needs a change of clothes Edith. Go take this girl to bathe. I'll take care of him," he said sternly as he ran a hand over his beard.

Ezra looked more like his mother. They had the same curly brown hair and blue eyes. Hers were a little rounder, but that was the only difference. His features just as soft as hers, but when he was angry his face was that of his fathers. The two of them had the same jaw line and their mouths mimicked each other. He was a perfect split of each of them, getting the best features from both.

He could feel strong arms pulling him up and the girl was no longer in his grasp as his mother hurried her to the bathroom. He couldn't even call for her since her name wasn't in her vocabulary. He could hear his father speaking but the words didn't make sense in his head. A gentle pat on the face and a slight bit of shaking and he finally came into focus to the world around him.

"There you are, son. You had your poor mother scared," Abe said with a small smile.

Ezra looked around and nodded, "I...I left the bakery. She...the girl...she was alone. I had to take her home. She was alone," he said wiping his face of the tears that had dried. He could hear his mother fussing with the girl in the bathroom trying to convince her to undress and get in the bath before she caught a cold.

"Who's the girl, son? Is she a friend?" Abe asked knowing all too well that the strangers clothes were too high class to be anyone from here. Maybe his son had met her at school on his way there or back. Maybe she had been a customer. He wasn't sure. He just prayed that she would keep his sons distress a secret from those who would do him harm.

"I dont know her name," Ezra said after a moment. His father nodded and led him to the bedroom to undress. He needed to shower in something warm as well. His father grabbed a large basket from the closet, big enough to fit a person and went to boil water, while Ezra undressed. Their bathtub would only have enough hot water for two showers so his father and him would bathe in this. When his dad came back Ezra was sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest. His dad poured the water over top of him and began to bathe his son gently.