The cold, crisp air hung around like flies swarming a sweet, delectable dessert. He could taste the iciness invading his skeleton body, extinguishing the only body warmth he had left. The chilling marble floor was decorated with fluffy white snow, a single touch of it sent chills down the bone. The rough, coarse straw blanket rested around him, barely protecting him from the harsh early winter season. Andrew’s long, stick-like limbs began to be painted with a blue tinge, his red warmth into melting the nearby snow.
Survive, it was his only choice. Being yanked into the ‘labour camp’, countless days filled with the haze of sunsets and sunrises. Filled with torture, in the snow, the sun and the shade. The crammed huts could barely protect them from the harsh weather, hot or cold. Cracks in the wall created a spider web, starting from the door and spiralling all around the room, filled with the porcelain, white snow that rested comfortably between them.
***
Frosty white particles slowly fell from the sky, kissing Andrew’s cheek as he walked on his front yard. “Come on, Andrew!” His best friend, Jacob cried out as he ran past Andrew, almost slipping in the fresh, soft snow. “Wait! Slow down, Jacob! You’re going to fall!” Andrew tried calling out to his friend tiredly, running as fast as his short legs could carry him.
“Wahhh!” Jacob’s face was met with a pile of fresh snow. Lifting his head, a hand was extended.
“Jacob! Are you okay?! What if your mum finds out you’re silly again?” Andrew pouted, supporting Jacob to stand up. Brushing off any snowflakes that stuck on him, Jacob flashed him a bright, gummy smile.
“Hehe! There’s no need to worry! You’ll always be next to me!” Jacob exclaimed, “To help with that!”. Noticing his words, Andrew started to cup the wintry snow, preparing to launch it at Jacob. Swiftly, Jacob pulled Andrew into a warm, reassuring hug. Seeing how hopeless it was to argue with his best friend, Andrew dropped the snow, wrapped his little arms around him, embracing the red warmth and comfort Jacob was giving to him in the icy white air that surrounded them.
***
The pebble-coloured sky gloomed over the camp, dampening everyone’s grey mood. As Andrew curled into a cocoon, drunken laughter was bouncing around the camp. His guts began to twist and turn, a fortuneteller’s orb swirling round and round. The crunching of the fallen snow came closer and closer. Echoing in his ears, the giants were approaching.
Thump. Slurring their words, the officers hiccupped. “Pig-Jews, come out. Out. Now. At once.” The incoherent command compelled their bodies, a puppet on strings, reaching out for the broken wooden doors. The wind bitterly blew, punching Andrew with its stinging coldness. He could only focus on his shallow breath, forming in the bone-chilling air as he nervously waited. “Take off your clothes and roll.”
Andrew’s stomach dropped. The crisp wind continued its shivering feathery touch on him, his body contracting, sending Andrew into an unstoppable tremble. But he wasn’t just trembling from the November air, something else ran down his spine. “Well, come on. Roll, you dirty pigs. It’s your favourite, mud!”
An intoxicated guard drunkenly walked towards the Jewish prisoners, pointing his finger around, then redirecting it towards the porcelain snow that slowly crept onto their feet. “Go on, you should be proud that you’re being useful for once.”
Then it hit him. Andrew felt his chest tightening, the red warmth he tried so hard to contain was slipping away, being consumed by the chilling, blue gazes.
Quiet rustling filled the cramped hut, rushing to fulfill the SS officer’s demands, even when they knew that the redness would be devoured by the disguised white frost. One by one, they laid down on the numbing frosting blanket. Laughter erupted from the German’s mouths as they heartily drank and watched their entertainment.
Soon enough, the crunching of the snow-filled the entire camp. Round and round, as far as Andrew could see without stopping. Cheers and jeers grew louder by the second, filling the air with choirs of mockery.
The bitter gale howled, louder and louder. Their beers became icy cold by the second. “Brr. Let’s get out of here, these pigs aren’t worth staying here.” Slowly the crowds disappeared, escaping the arctic winter winds. Andrew and the other prisoners gradually dragged their limp bodies back into the huts, towing along the numbing frosty snow. Only to be met with no red warmth.
Winters used to be so white and pure but now, it was nothing but black and full of misery. As the midnight blackness invaded his vision, marigold petals began fluttering between the empty darkness, illuminating all those precious memories he had with Jacob. Uncurling his pinky, Andrew felt the red comforting warmth beginning to snake around his finger, promising for another tomorrow to see Jacob once more.