Yael lost her name

Gleichschaltung–a German word.

Original photograph by the “New York Public Library”. Modified under the Unsplash License by Ashmore.

Yael sat before the window.

The storm outside turned to heavy rain. Heavy. Urgent. It hammered on the glass–zack, zack, zack–like a sewing machine. She looked for cracks. But the glass held better than her life.

Her room was cold.
She was alone.

In the city, silence was a backpack of stones. Noise–piercing needles in her ears. Pain. Hers alone.

Home.
So far, so distant. So blurred.
She wished she had never heard of it. But when she started to forget, it pulled her back. At night, she cried for it to return. But during the day, she hid the truth.

There, everyone had a name—even her.
You could buy bread at night.
Or girls.
But not a name.
Only war heroes carried names. Loyal warriors. Fighters, for the system.

Gleichschaltung.
The word that makes everything the same. Turns wild beating drums into a machine rumble. A wild ocean of thoughts into a gray pond where nothing dwells. It steals the names of many and gives them one.

But her name was Yael. A shadow here.
Someone somewhere.
A nobody for everyone.

The city was silent. Close, but distant. Solitary.
A graveyard, built for the living. Outside: silent. But not lonely. Everything had its place: bees, flowers, trees.
The names.
The meaning.
The home.

Yael always wanted to go back.
Once she thought God loves all his children. But he gave her lungs that were not made for this place.
She could not breathe its air.
A fish without water, choking.

Wrong.

It was wrong to be here.
A thousand eyes reminded her every day that she was a mistake. Gods mistake. Every look took something from her. Ate her alive, until she disappeared.
Run, she thought.
Run.
Leave everything behind.

But Hans made her stay.
Made her look back.

Hans.
A blue-eyed man.
With a gentle voice that painted gray ruins with color. He whispered her name so softly she believed it again. And she wanted to believe him.
So she breathed the air.
And decided to stay.

The power was still out.
The warm light of a single candle lit her room, painting creatures with broken limbs on the wall. Black little demons, leaping corner to corner. Still, she preferred to be in this room with them. It was safer around them than outside.
People shouted in the dark.
Dogs barked.
In the distance.
Getting closer.
She froze, even with her grandmother's blanket around her shoulders. Hans could make her feel warm again, but he was not here.

The news turned into a whirlpool of hate.
Gleichschaltung made the headlines.
Every paper said the same things:
Jews carried diseases because they were related to rats.

Last night, she woke up from a dream.
Her hands grew furry.
Her nose was long.
Her teeth sharp.
She could not sleep anymore. She was afraid she would see what she truly was.

Yael missed her parents. Her Guides through life. Advisors. But they'd been gone for years. Now she was alone.
Except for Hans.
He laughed at the news. Said she shouldn’t take it so seriously.
"People are just scared," he said.
So was she.
But then Hans gave her a promise.
"I'll stay with you."
His blue eyes pierced her.
"Always."

Thunder growled in the distance.
It was like a bell in the sky.
She woke up.
And suddenly, she saw it all.
Yes, she would marry him. Be the mother of his kids. Be his wife.
Like he always wanted.

Lights at the end of the street.
Was Hans finally coming?
The shouting was close now.
She'd feel better with him here now.

The lights of the approaching car went out. A shadow moved in the pitch black.
The yelling rose.
Dogs barked in the dark.
Boots on the ground.
Who got closer?

Boots on the stairs. His boots. Hans. As he promised. He came for her.

She left her grandmother’s heritage, laid down the blanket.
Gave her body to the cold. At the first knock, she opened the door.
Smiling.

Hans brought someone.
Before her was an older soldier.

Skulls. Uniform dark. Shiny boots.

"Fräulein Yael Weiss?"

Hans stood behind the guest.
She looked at the guest. Then at Hans. Hans trembled. He didn't look in her eyes. He was silent for the first time.
Was this Hans?
Was that blood on him?
The light was too dim. She couldn't see.

Fräulein Weiss?

Ja, Yael said.

She looked at Hans, but his eyes were nailed to the ground.

Thunder again.
Then she understood.
He made his choice.
He chose uniform and duty.
Hans chose for her, too.

Her legs betrayed her. She once wanted to throw up from love. Now his face alone turned her stomach.

Her hands clenched in front of her. Her nails sank deep into her skin. A drip of blood came out. It felt like a relief.

The storm in the city passed. The rain no longer hammered on her window. It had turned to a gentle knocking, comforting her, like tears.

Her eyes dropped to the floor–like Hans.
She looked at his boots.
Black. Shiny.
She cleaned the boots for him last night.
But now, she carried the disease of rats.

Then she heard her trembling voice say:
"Ja, Herr Kommandant?"

In that moment, the power came back on.

---