It was sometime in June the summer of 1948, well in in Russia it is not really summer, more of a warm winter. I know it is not much of a way to start this, I am not really sure what to say, I mean what do say when your life is a few days away from being taken from you, as I sit in a cell, a cold cell, the walls are not wet but they are moistened with what seems to be moss and grime, the celling leaks when it rains, I can feel the cold breeze on my face when the wind blows, and that’s on a warm day, my hands are so frozen they are no longer the beautifully whitish caramel light brown they used to be; no they are just a gloomy purple, the frostbite will probably kill me before the Germans do. The walls of the cell are a blackish grey, I couldn’t really tell; the only light that gets in is through that tiny window, it is to high up for me to see out, I’ve tried to climb the wall to see, but when I am caught, the guards beat me with a batten. The broken bones I have and slowly healing, the cuts I have all over my body ooze bloody and when not blood some type of puss, they are surly infected. The floors are a rough surface; it feels as if I am sleeping on a bumpy rock. I have no idea of where I am for when I was kidnapped, a sack that smelled of blood, sweat, tears and a slight smell of potato was placed over my head, almost reminded me of the good times sitting by the stove as my father cooked me food. I am aware of one thing; I am near an ocean for every night I fall asleep to sound of the brutal waves crushing up against the rocks. I did however fall asleep thinking of the one love I let get away, that one lost soul I had fallen for at this one masquerade ball it was a marvellous night, for the moonlight light the whole town up, and the one that I kissed, it lit their eyes up, their eyes were but a pair of golden pieces of eight; it was the hope that the they would come back to me, and our lips would touch for one last kiss, it would not be a kiss of life, but a kiss of death, but I would be sure that I shall join them soon .Those times of being home safe were soon than cast away, as the solider then repeatedly raped me. I remember crying and screaming, they were screaming “You brought this on yourself” they were saying other things to, it is almost so hard to remember for when I think of that day the only thing I can remember hearing is my voice, screaming and crying, I had not drank anything for at least 3 days, I was on the run you see, my throat was so dry, after 10 minutes of crying and begging for mercy, I was nearly squealing, and by 20 minutes I felt as if I had forgotten the sound of my own voice, it was nearly just the sound of gasping for air. There is not a day I will ever forget that, because my hands, my once soft silky hands skin softer than wool is not dry and covered in scars, because as I clawed my fingers into the ground trying to pull myself away they would keep pulling me back, one of them kept stomping on my hands, I could hear the crunch every time; but my desperation to get away lead me to believe I could get away so I kept trying. I was then kicked into the mud, throw in with the pigs, my legs had been stretched open for so long I couldn’t even bear to walk, my hands were crushed, my red lips, were not red by natural colour but red by the blood that I was constantly coughing up. I could not even cry because every tear would hurt more than the last, my eyes had been punched in so much, I could not even see anything, and everything was burly. However I do remember the barn the through me in the wooden panels it was almost comforting, to see the wooden walls, the hay stack up, the moonlight shining through, the not so cold breeze that would come and go, it almost felt nice, it was almost silent, besides from the solider drinking cheap wine and acting like buffoons but it meant they were out there and not in the barn screwing me, once it a while one solider would waltz in like he is big man, put his cheap wine bottle down marked ‘XXX’ and then take of his takes through me onto the hay stack like some kind of animal, and rape me, sometimes one of them would be so sick in the head they would whip me, I have lost all feeling in my back because from all the times I had been whipped and kicked around you begin to lose all feelings. It was almost saddening that every time the soldiers would hang up all the women and children that had killed around the barn, so everywhere I looked I would see and smell death. The bodies hung from the walls like rag dolls, they were just pinned up like some kind of sick display, it made me throw up every time; although didn’t eat much so I would dry reach until my throat had enough than it would start bleeding and would cough up blood. I would look at myself and you could bleary see the difference from that of the dead rotting bodies on the wall to me, my face and body covered in mud, blood and dirt my body so frail and my skin even became as pale as a white dove. The head of the bodies hand down, I could never see their eyes nor did I want to for the few times I did there just maggots eating their hearts out it was sickening to watch. The bodies would turn almost a pale blackish blue, every time a new body was brought in, I felt a cold breeze go through me, it was as if me and death shared a room, I could even see myself almost turning into him, for I was surrounded by death and misery all day, the only smiles I saw, were the soldiers as they got pleasure from dishonouring my body. My screams and tears never seemed to bother any of them. They would cart me around; throw me in the pig pen because they said that is what I am, top of my class I was, I was just a grad student, doing my best. I wanted to be a journalist, it’s almost sounds obvious for why all this happened to me. I was a stupid young girl, trying to expose all the war crimes Germany had done, the ones the media and government wanted to leave out; it’s where my passion to be a journalist came about. It’s strange we all thought the war had ended I felt safe to unravel all these secrets , it had been 4 years, now almost 22 years, and yet here I am sitting in a cell waiting for the Nazis to kill me. Well not really the Nazis they like to call themselves the reborn Slarvic, not Slavic, Slarvic, there goal is to slowly take back the land, it is not going well for them, so instead they just kidnap royal children and ask for land in return, the government try to hide it. If you are wondering, what royal family I am from you are wrong, if I were royal I would not be in here still, I would have been protected. It’s quite funny thought my name is Cassiopeia if your familiar with Greek mythology you would know of her, I never knew the name Cassiopeia was a queen, till my well let’s call her friend for now, told me about her. Her name was Celsius, yes like the temperature, Celsius was my friend, hmmmp, who am I kidding, she was more than a friend, she was more than just my savour, she was my lover, we had only met on one night, and again on other, they both ended with a kiss but the third kiss would be our final, but I am jumping ahead to quickly. Although it is becoming harder to write as the frostbite is having its way with my hands and I am to cold and damp to do anything about it. I can hear the waves again, they are so load, I can hear them echo around the room I am in, the door to my cell is hard a wooden, it was a peep hole that only the guards can see through. I will now go back now, not to the beginning but from when I last was, as I was getting raped beaten, one day, not the same day as before it had been 3 weeks since I had been kidnapped; I was taken to a new place Mount Yuaonic, of course I did not know at the time where I was heading, but when I was there, as usually after the soldiers had ransacked a town, they would come find me in a barn and raped me, but this time, it was as if I felt a warm aura around me and I thought maybe once I will be saved, and I screamed and I cried… Then someone bursts through the doors, a women, as tall as the days sun rise, but as beautiful as the sun set, with eyes as bright as the moon, and hair as graceful as the leaves in a tree as it sways in the wind. I have had blood splattered on me many times, never once did I smile, I had seen many people die never once did I smile; I had seen many dead bodies never once did I smile; but that day I did. It was almost sickening to think of now, but back then as the mysterious girl sliced the solider into pieces and as his blood splattered onto my lips, it tasted almost sweet, like I had found my holy grail and drank the sweet wine that was inside. There the mysterious girl speaks her name “Celsius”, her voice was the sound of an angle singing, for a second it felt like I had never shed a tear or spoke a single unholy word, heard no screaming of my own or others, not even from a baby. She took me into her arms and said “I’ve been planning for this day; I have tried to track you down ever since I heard of your disappearance, and you forgot to tell me your name?” I asked her “My name? What on earth do you mean? I have never met you in my life?” and she says softly “Oh but my dear love you have, it was me at that masquerade ball”. The one love, I had let go, the one with the eyes that were a pair of golden pieces of eight, the night seemed all as well, but it would end quickly for when mine and her lips kissed, she had drop her sword for but for a second, and was stabbed and killed. As I felt her blood against my skin, as I felt the warmth of her body against mine begin to get cooler, it was than I had but lost all hope… For one day our lips shall touch once again, but not until the room I share with death is my grave… - Maddison Toetu (Golden Gay Panda)
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