She was spread out on the road in front of me; his thick black hair, usually so neat and clean, a mess. A strange sound echoed in her throat as she turned and sat up. Blood was flowing from a cut on his knee. His lip quivered, his breathing irregular. Despite having a naturally dark complexion (stereotypically Jewish, Halina always said), his face seemed ashen with fear. When she saw me, she let out a choked sob and backed away like a frightened crab. “You,” I said, showing no signs of warmth. Like Roza Wiesniewski, I expected a sarcastic comment in response. This was part of our usual exchanges. The mutual hatred we had for each other had little to do with Halina's prejudices. It was personal. Roza Wiesniewski was not only one of the richest girls in town, she was also gifted and talented. She excelled at everything she touched. And if that wasn't enough, she was pretty and popular and she knew it. The only thing I could beat her for was popularity. We were the famous rivals in the category and I liked to think I came first. Whatever it was, the fact remained that she hated me perhaps even more than I hated her. We were just as rude and bitchy to each other, although Roza was better at saying hurtful things. So now, in the last evening sun, I waited for the expected comment. Only, it never came. Instead, Roza began to sob audibly. I raised my eyebrows. Is she crying? She was a spoiled, scruffy brat. She didn't cry. Only now she was. I had never seen her look so desperate and pathetic before. Considering how she had treated me in the past, there was something sickening and satisfying about it all. “Please,” she panted, her voice little more than a pitiful sob. Except I didn't feel pity. 'P...... middle of paper ......ar, returning to the living room after a short trip down the hallway. Our previous conversation had come back to me. “When you asked for the address, you said it was just a census. » Oskar hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. 'Yes, I did.' 'Were you lying?' 'Not exactly.' Where anyone else would have squirmed when his lie became obvious, Oskar simply raised his eyebrows with the lazy arrogance I had come to love. 'For what? Are you complaining? » I looked at the necklace I still had in my hand, I took in the fact that I was standing in the Wisniewskis' living room and I smiled broadly. “No,” I laughed. “I’m definitely not complaining!” » Looking around the beautiful room, I suddenly felt a great feeling of exhilaration; this feeling that we were on top, that we were superior. At that moment, all I could think about was how nice it was to be German, now that the Nazis had arrived..