about this he will got a sudden instance of heart failureHe enjoys having his limbic system zapped but I am not sure how he would feel about gender reassignment
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P
Pia
Guest
The girls had been working long hours on the latest newsletter, fiddling with the awkward letraset under the dim yellow lamps, conscious always of the need to hurry, the need to finish and get the sheet printed and distributed. Gisela’s typing had advanced from two clumsy fingers to a keyboard dance under Alex’s guidance. The evenings were all like this... Half-drunk mugs of coffee, piles of papers, cigarette smoke, tired eyes and matted hair... Then home and a few hours of snatched sleep and into class.
These days Hanna kept her distance. She was still a friend, Gisela knew this, but was afraid to be too close to the red-haired girl sitting half asleep in the corner of the lecture theatre, her eyes grey with tiredness. And Gisela was aware, too, of the looks she got from the other students. Nervous, but somehow envious. They guessed what she was doing. They knew what was happening, and somehow lived their lives in a constant tension between a longing to be involved and a terror of the consequences.
That night though, the work went on longer and later. The June sky was still light, but flecked with scudding clouds which loosed their cargoes of rain in sudden squally showers, swirling over the paving slabs and sending weird shadows flitting across the crumbling walls of the Altstad.
“Gisela, it’s late, come back to my place tonight. It’s so much closer. Come on. You’ll catch your death if you try to get home to Löbervorstadt....Come on, my flat’s so near”
“Oh...but I’ve class tomorrow... I....”
“It’ll be alright... Come on... You can stay the night and take the tram first thing to home... then just go in like you usually do... ok?”
“Well.... ok then.... “
Out they went, over the shining cobbles, along the silent streets towards Alex’s flat in the Weiße Gasse. The key turned in the lock, up the old battered staircase, and into the tiny apartment. They were exhausted and soaked from the cloudburst. Too tired almost to peel off their sodden clothes. Then slumping together backwards onto the unmade bed. Too tired for anything. Just holding each other close, enjoying the softness of the moment and the damp tangle of their hair over the pillows.
Morning came quickly, signaled by the Cathedral bells. Gisela pulled herself up, wrapped herself in a sheet and set the boiler going. A coffee before she left. Pulled on her still-wet clothes. Sipped the drink, then poured the rest away. She had to be off. A kiss on Alex’s still-sleeping lips, then quietly stealing down the stairs, through the battered doorway and back into the now-drying street.
It was so quiet and beautiful a morning. The wild clouds of yesterday replaced by a deep blue sky, edged with the pink of the dawn. The streetlights reflecting on the puddles lying between the broken cobblestones. All alone. Her footfalls echoing in the empty city.
Almost alone.
Was it an echo?
Stepping faster.
Another set of steps. A man.
Getting closer.
Gisela looked furtively around... Stepping faster... The stranger getting closer.... A dark shadow....
A sense of panic... Starting to run.... Breaths coming fast....
Now she could see him...
He was going to catch her. Trembling with fear. Round a corner. Pushing herself into a darkened doorway. Cold sweat on her brow and panting breasts.
Footsteps slowing...
“Good morning Fraulein. You had no need to run from me. Let me help you. My car is just by here. Come along with me”
Strong arms took hold of her wrists. She twisted and pulled but immediately realised resistance was futile.
“Be a good girl. Come along. You don’t need to be worried. I just have a few questions for you. Come along now.”
And he led her round to Michaelisstraße where a driver sat in an already-running car...
“Please get in Fraulein....”
These days Hanna kept her distance. She was still a friend, Gisela knew this, but was afraid to be too close to the red-haired girl sitting half asleep in the corner of the lecture theatre, her eyes grey with tiredness. And Gisela was aware, too, of the looks she got from the other students. Nervous, but somehow envious. They guessed what she was doing. They knew what was happening, and somehow lived their lives in a constant tension between a longing to be involved and a terror of the consequences.
That night though, the work went on longer and later. The June sky was still light, but flecked with scudding clouds which loosed their cargoes of rain in sudden squally showers, swirling over the paving slabs and sending weird shadows flitting across the crumbling walls of the Altstad.
“Gisela, it’s late, come back to my place tonight. It’s so much closer. Come on. You’ll catch your death if you try to get home to Löbervorstadt....Come on, my flat’s so near”
“Oh...but I’ve class tomorrow... I....”
“It’ll be alright... Come on... You can stay the night and take the tram first thing to home... then just go in like you usually do... ok?”
“Well.... ok then.... “
Out they went, over the shining cobbles, along the silent streets towards Alex’s flat in the Weiße Gasse. The key turned in the lock, up the old battered staircase, and into the tiny apartment. They were exhausted and soaked from the cloudburst. Too tired almost to peel off their sodden clothes. Then slumping together backwards onto the unmade bed. Too tired for anything. Just holding each other close, enjoying the softness of the moment and the damp tangle of their hair over the pillows.
Morning came quickly, signaled by the Cathedral bells. Gisela pulled herself up, wrapped herself in a sheet and set the boiler going. A coffee before she left. Pulled on her still-wet clothes. Sipped the drink, then poured the rest away. She had to be off. A kiss on Alex’s still-sleeping lips, then quietly stealing down the stairs, through the battered doorway and back into the now-drying street.
It was so quiet and beautiful a morning. The wild clouds of yesterday replaced by a deep blue sky, edged with the pink of the dawn. The streetlights reflecting on the puddles lying between the broken cobblestones. All alone. Her footfalls echoing in the empty city.
Almost alone.
Was it an echo?
Stepping faster.
Another set of steps. A man.
Getting closer.
Gisela looked furtively around... Stepping faster... The stranger getting closer.... A dark shadow....
A sense of panic... Starting to run.... Breaths coming fast....
Now she could see him...
He was going to catch her. Trembling with fear. Round a corner. Pushing herself into a darkened doorway. Cold sweat on her brow and panting breasts.
Footsteps slowing...
“Good morning Fraulein. You had no need to run from me. Let me help you. My car is just by here. Come along with me”
Strong arms took hold of her wrists. She twisted and pulled but immediately realised resistance was futile.
“Be a good girl. Come along. You don’t need to be worried. I just have a few questions for you. Come along now.”
And he led her round to Michaelisstraße where a driver sat in an already-running car...
“Please get in Fraulein....”
Ohhhhhh, shades of what Fraulein Moore was feeling in another story.....things are going to get more frightful now!
I love the description in your writing....how reading it make me see the scenes so vividly...
like this one: "The June sky was still light, but flecked with scudding clouds which loosed their cargoes of rain in sudden squally showers, swirling over the paving slabs and sending weird shadows flitting across the crumbling walls of the Altstad."
Wow....that really works!!!!
More fantastic writing PK! You are the master of the cliffhanger!
Speaking of cliffhangers....
... couldn't resist posting this one
P
Pia
Guest
The tyres screeched as the car turned a tight circle, accelerating along the street then rolling as the driver flung the wheel to the left as they turned down Marbacher Gasse, then left again, rattling over the empty tram tracks and into Andreasstraße... Gisela now had a terrible sense of where this journey would, in a few moments, be ending.
She glanced around, searching out for any soul who might see her in that speeding car. The streets were empty. Deserted but for the occasional ravens feasting on the half-open bins by the road-side, the remnants of dampened wrappings and boxes flapping in the wind. She took a deep, deep breath. Anticipating the next turn of the car. Through the opened gate, beneath the redbrick arch. Into the gloom-filled compound in front of the looming building. Then rolling to a halt. The door swinging open.
She glanced around, searching out for any soul who might see her in that speeding car. The streets were empty. Deserted but for the occasional ravens feasting on the half-open bins by the road-side, the remnants of dampened wrappings and boxes flapping in the wind. She took a deep, deep breath. Anticipating the next turn of the car. Through the opened gate, beneath the redbrick arch. Into the gloom-filled compound in front of the looming building. Then rolling to a halt. The door swinging open.
P
Pia
Guest
Rough hands pushed Gisela from the car into the arms of the waiting guard. Handcuffs were quickly locked in place. Then another push, a shove, through the open door and into the gloom of the building. Along a shabby corridor, Gisela’s head turning this way and that, the dull uniformity of the cream-painted walls broken only by the peeling plaster and cracked floor tiles. A tear ran from the corner of her eye, her nose snuffling as the footfalls echoed.
Keys rattled open a heavy door revealing concrete steps turning a corner into the basement. Another corridor, this one lined by steel doors painted in a pale grey. Each with a tiny peep-hole and a firmly-shut square hatch. Her eyes focused on the ugly patterned flooring. One, two, three, four, five, six doors. Stopping at the seventh. Another key turned in another lock, then another, releasing her handcuffs. A quick pat-down. Her shoes removed. Pushed into the tiny cell, filled almost entirely by a low wooden bed. Faint light filtering in from the heavily barred and grated window high in the far wall, leading, she guessed, into some sort of external shaft. Hands on her shoulders folding her down to sit on the hard bed.
The guard smiled.
“Make yourself at home. Someone will be down to see you later. Sometime. Have a good think.”
And then the door was pulled closed and Gisela realized that she was all alone. That no-one knew where she was. That she had effectively disappeared just a few hundred metres from the city centre. She sat still and silent. Wiped her nose, then lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her mind throbbing with fear.
Keys rattled open a heavy door revealing concrete steps turning a corner into the basement. Another corridor, this one lined by steel doors painted in a pale grey. Each with a tiny peep-hole and a firmly-shut square hatch. Her eyes focused on the ugly patterned flooring. One, two, three, four, five, six doors. Stopping at the seventh. Another key turned in another lock, then another, releasing her handcuffs. A quick pat-down. Her shoes removed. Pushed into the tiny cell, filled almost entirely by a low wooden bed. Faint light filtering in from the heavily barred and grated window high in the far wall, leading, she guessed, into some sort of external shaft. Hands on her shoulders folding her down to sit on the hard bed.
The guard smiled.
“Make yourself at home. Someone will be down to see you later. Sometime. Have a good think.”
And then the door was pulled closed and Gisela realized that she was all alone. That no-one knew where she was. That she had effectively disappeared just a few hundred metres from the city centre. She sat still and silent. Wiped her nose, then lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her mind throbbing with fear.
cxslave
Chain Slave
Oh so ominous! Loving this PK!
All alone, except for that little camera lens up by the ceiling....seriously, great episode....so real, so tense!
P
Pia
Guest
“So Sylvie, you see that’s what happens when you get deep into things...and I didn’t even think I was that deep in. Just a girl doing some layout and typing. But they were all very afraid back in 88 and we were real threats in their eyes. And I guess they were right. Lots of us. Girls, boys. All doing our little bit, chipping away at the state. And not actually realizing how totally rotten it was and that every little chip was beginning to make the whole thing totter… Anyway, they were afraid and I was very very afraid sitting there in that tiny cell. The light growing dimmer and dimmer. Sitting there waiting…”
“Gisela, I mean, what happened? I…I mean I know what happened… But… how? I… Will you tell me?”
“Yes… I’ll tell you. I don’t mind now. It’s a long long time ago. So, I just lay there on that bed, if you could call it that. At some point a guy opened the hatch and pushed in a bed-sheet and a sort of thin cotton gown and a bowl of soup – no spoon. No one spoke to me. Then it was dark. I tried to sleep. I made a pillow of my own clothes. I remember how cold it was. And the smell of damp. I remember curling up like a little ball. I know I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about Alex and Hanna and Barbara… especially about Barbara…Remember I was just eighteen. I was so frightened.”
“I must have been in that cell for ages. The light came again, then went again. They brought me that soup twice a day. And a bucket. And I just sat there or laid there and tried to sleep and tried to stop thinking. But I couldn’t. I was so thirsty. There was nothing to drink. Just the soup. My head was hurting and my mouth was feeling horrible. I just wanted to get out. But no-one came to speak to me at all. I had no idea what would happen. Was Alex trying to find me? Well, lots of times we’d not be in touch for a day or so, and she just thought I’d gone home. What about Hanna? I didn’t know. We weren’t as close as we’d been. She wouldn’t have been surprised if I missed class a few times. My parents? They hardly saw me these days – I was either at college or hidden in some library (they thought) or out all night. They wouldn’t worry for a few more days yet. And in a few days what state would I be in? Why were they doing this to me? What did they want? I just wanted them to come and speak to me – to ask me their questions. I wanted to speak to anyone. I was so scared and so alone.”
“Gisela, I mean, what happened? I…I mean I know what happened… But… how? I… Will you tell me?”
“Yes… I’ll tell you. I don’t mind now. It’s a long long time ago. So, I just lay there on that bed, if you could call it that. At some point a guy opened the hatch and pushed in a bed-sheet and a sort of thin cotton gown and a bowl of soup – no spoon. No one spoke to me. Then it was dark. I tried to sleep. I made a pillow of my own clothes. I remember how cold it was. And the smell of damp. I remember curling up like a little ball. I know I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about Alex and Hanna and Barbara… especially about Barbara…Remember I was just eighteen. I was so frightened.”
“I must have been in that cell for ages. The light came again, then went again. They brought me that soup twice a day. And a bucket. And I just sat there or laid there and tried to sleep and tried to stop thinking. But I couldn’t. I was so thirsty. There was nothing to drink. Just the soup. My head was hurting and my mouth was feeling horrible. I just wanted to get out. But no-one came to speak to me at all. I had no idea what would happen. Was Alex trying to find me? Well, lots of times we’d not be in touch for a day or so, and she just thought I’d gone home. What about Hanna? I didn’t know. We weren’t as close as we’d been. She wouldn’t have been surprised if I missed class a few times. My parents? They hardly saw me these days – I was either at college or hidden in some library (they thought) or out all night. They wouldn’t worry for a few more days yet. And in a few days what state would I be in? Why were they doing this to me? What did they want? I just wanted them to come and speak to me – to ask me their questions. I wanted to speak to anyone. I was so scared and so alone.”
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P
Pia
Guest
“And they came, didn’t they?”
“Yes, they came. Eventually. And of course I was terrified. They came and took me out of the cell, along the grey corridor. I think I was the only person there. The other doors were open. They took me to another room. There was no window. Just a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. And a chain. An officer was sitting at a desk, behind an old-fashioned type-writer. I remember him looking up. He was such an ordinary looking man. I could have walked past him hundreds of times in the Altstadt and never even noticed. Then another officer came in. I was standing still, in the centre of the room. I remember shivering. He walked round me. I remember his shoes squeaking. I remember him nodding. Then they pulled my clothes off me and tied my hands up to the chain and I was left, standing on my toes, naked. There was nothing I could do. And they just left me there like that for an age. And then they came back.”
“I asked him what they wanted. I said I wasn’t anyone important, I was just a student. They didn’t answer me. I didn’t understand. I thought they would want something from me. Names or something. But they didn’t ask me any questions. The officer just walked around me again and again and looked at me and I felt so terrible and so hurt. Then he pulled a whip from his belt. A riding crop. It looked expensive. Black leather. My eyes followed it. I remember that. I tried to twist around and follow his hand, the hand holding the whip. Then I felt it. I think I heard it first. I felt it slice into me. Again and again and again. I felt myself being knocked forward off my feet. My whole body was screaming in pain and I howled at them to stop. Again and again he hit me. I can’t describe the pain. I thought it would never stop. I could hardly breathe. I was just hanging there now. Hanging limp by my wrists. And he still hit me. I remember the man at the desk looking up. He looked at me, then looked away. Maybe he had a daughter too. He looked ashamed. I remember my hair over my eyes. I remember sweating and moaning. I remember everything. Every moment. And then he stopped. And left me there. He said nothing. He never asked me a question”.
“Yes, they came. Eventually. And of course I was terrified. They came and took me out of the cell, along the grey corridor. I think I was the only person there. The other doors were open. They took me to another room. There was no window. Just a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. And a chain. An officer was sitting at a desk, behind an old-fashioned type-writer. I remember him looking up. He was such an ordinary looking man. I could have walked past him hundreds of times in the Altstadt and never even noticed. Then another officer came in. I was standing still, in the centre of the room. I remember shivering. He walked round me. I remember his shoes squeaking. I remember him nodding. Then they pulled my clothes off me and tied my hands up to the chain and I was left, standing on my toes, naked. There was nothing I could do. And they just left me there like that for an age. And then they came back.”
“I asked him what they wanted. I said I wasn’t anyone important, I was just a student. They didn’t answer me. I didn’t understand. I thought they would want something from me. Names or something. But they didn’t ask me any questions. The officer just walked around me again and again and looked at me and I felt so terrible and so hurt. Then he pulled a whip from his belt. A riding crop. It looked expensive. Black leather. My eyes followed it. I remember that. I tried to twist around and follow his hand, the hand holding the whip. Then I felt it. I think I heard it first. I felt it slice into me. Again and again and again. I felt myself being knocked forward off my feet. My whole body was screaming in pain and I howled at them to stop. Again and again he hit me. I can’t describe the pain. I thought it would never stop. I could hardly breathe. I was just hanging there now. Hanging limp by my wrists. And he still hit me. I remember the man at the desk looking up. He looked at me, then looked away. Maybe he had a daughter too. He looked ashamed. I remember my hair over my eyes. I remember sweating and moaning. I remember everything. Every moment. And then he stopped. And left me there. He said nothing. He never asked me a question”.
P
Pia
Guest
Sylvie bent forward, lowering her face until it was level with Gisela’s, her fingers gently touching her cheeks, pushing back her hair. Letting their noses touch.
“Oh my poor lovely sweet girl…”
“And I suppose that was almost the end. They never asked me anything. They took me back to the cell and laid me out on the bed, face down. After a while a nurse or someone came and put something onto the cuts on my back. I remember it stung terribly. And she gave me a pill and a glass of water. Then she left and the door was closed. I had no idea what would happen to me. I just lay there in the half-light. I could hardly move it hurt so much. I think I must have been there for two hours, maybe three. I can’t remember. Then someone came again with my clothes. My own clothes. They told me to stand up and get dressed. It hurt me so much. I could hardly raise my arms or bend. I remember crying a lot. But eventually it was done”.
“They led me along the corridor again and up the stairs. I could see the open door. It was dark outside and raining. I didn’t know what time it was. They shoved me back into a car. I remember how my back hurt against the seat. My head was spinning. I didn’t know what was happening. They drove out of the compound. I knew all the streets but I just had no idea where I was going. But it didn’t take long. The car splashed to a halt. I remember the water from the puddle hitting the window. They opened the door and just pushed me out. Into the street. Into the puddle. And I lay there. I couldn’t move for ages. I just lay there and cried”.
“Oh my poor lovely sweet girl…”
“And I suppose that was almost the end. They never asked me anything. They took me back to the cell and laid me out on the bed, face down. After a while a nurse or someone came and put something onto the cuts on my back. I remember it stung terribly. And she gave me a pill and a glass of water. Then she left and the door was closed. I had no idea what would happen to me. I just lay there in the half-light. I could hardly move it hurt so much. I think I must have been there for two hours, maybe three. I can’t remember. Then someone came again with my clothes. My own clothes. They told me to stand up and get dressed. It hurt me so much. I could hardly raise my arms or bend. I remember crying a lot. But eventually it was done”.
“They led me along the corridor again and up the stairs. I could see the open door. It was dark outside and raining. I didn’t know what time it was. They shoved me back into a car. I remember how my back hurt against the seat. My head was spinning. I didn’t know what was happening. They drove out of the compound. I knew all the streets but I just had no idea where I was going. But it didn’t take long. The car splashed to a halt. I remember the water from the puddle hitting the window. They opened the door and just pushed me out. Into the street. Into the puddle. And I lay there. I couldn’t move for ages. I just lay there and cried”.
P
Pia
Guest
“I knew I had to get up. I was shaking and cold and in so much pain. I dragged myself to my feet. I had no shoes. Just bare feet. It was cold and the rain was still falling hard. I remember leaning against a wall for ages. Trying to catch my breath. I could see where I was, in Allerheiligenstraße, almost where they had picked me up. I remember stumbling along the road. It must have been about three in the morning. There was no-one around at all. I can’t imagine how I must have looked. I was soaked and I could feel blood running from my back down my legs".
Well, all of that was obviously a sinister warning.....somehow, though, I don't think we have heard the end of this....
P
Pia
Guest
“I don’t know how, but eventually I found myself at Alex’s door in the Weiße Gasse. I remember her face when she got to the door. I just collapsed into her arms and cried and she carried me upstairs and wiped my face. It must have been half a day that I lay there on her couch, my face hanging over the side, a pillow under me. Alex wiped my back and dressed it. She was so gentle. She made me warm drinks and stroked my hair and talked to me. She tried to help me to understand what had happened. I couldn’t understand at all. I think I do now, but if it was just to frighten me, to frighten other people. Well, I guess they were the ones who were really frightened. And I guess they were right to be, weren’t they Sylvie?”
They sat there on the bed, gazing into each others eyes. Sylvie gently turned Gisela over and let her lips wander over her back, slowly kissing each mark in turn. Her sweet, damp tongue softening forever the blows of the leather whip.
They sat there on the bed, gazing into each others eyes. Sylvie gently turned Gisela over and let her lips wander over her back, slowly kissing each mark in turn. Her sweet, damp tongue softening forever the blows of the leather whip.
THE END OF GISELA'S FIRST STORY
P
Pia
Guest
The Second Story - 1945
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
RacingRodent
Consul
Well crafted, not overdone, you showed how just the mildest demonstration of the Stasi's to reach into people's lives and tear them apart had a powerful effect on even the bravest. You did this by placing a thoroughly plausible heroine in just that situation.
A really powerful and evocative piece of writing.
A really powerful and evocative piece of writing.
P
Pia
Guest
Aww shucks.... now you've made me cry!
