Berlin blood

Paul lived a calm and measured life in Spain with Laura and her sister. During the day they helped Edda in the vineyard and made wine, and in the evening, like any other people, they relaxed in each other’s company. Laura and Paul often talked about neutral topics and never touched on politics. They read newspapers, but did not discuss news from the front, only briefly. Laura always wanted to know what it was like to be a submariner, and what secrets this profession holds. However, Paul told her more about his childhood. About his grandmother and his holidays, which he loved very much and now remembered with joy. How, while relaxing under a tree branch and reading another book, the fresh wind blew through his then-long hair. How he loved the songs and music that sounded in his grandmother’s house, how he loved to wake up early in the morning and look at the sun-filled room and how his grandmother went out onto the balcony and greeted every day with joy and deep peace in her heart. When he was little, he never understood why she was happy about everything. She enjoys the rain, the sun and even the wind. And only when she died, that same day, standing on the balcony, he suddenly realized: she valued life and accepted it as it was, never resisted it. If something didn’t work out for her, she simply put it off until later—usually “later” meant “never.” She never regretted anything, she said one thing: “Don’t regret anything. Even if you think you have chosen the wrong road, it can lead you in the right direction. Life is complex, and we humans are not destined to fully comprehend it: we are too stupid for this.” And she was right. People stopped believing that there is a superior being. That people don’t always decide everything, no matter how powerful they are and no matter how much money they have. Everything that man has come up with is an illusion. An illusion that a person came up with in order to somehow justify and systematize what surrounds him. Man is a vain creature; he is never satisfied with one thing. — Paul! — Laura crept up behind him and hugged him. She turned out to be a head and a half shorter and, when the man looked at her, she was just a little girl. But Paul liked it that way. I liked it when she slept on him after a long day of work, sat on her knees and leaned her whole body against him, and he, wrapping her in a blanket, raked her with both hands, and for a long time they exchanged the energy emanating from them. He missed this comfort and the special feeling that you have someone to protect. There is someone to live for. You have a person who, after your death, will not live a day without knowing what he will do without you. Probably, the meaning of life is just to find a person whom you will miss so much that when you come home, he will become your best medicine and your greatest gift and secret that you will protect from everyone, even from yourself. Or rather, from the dark side of myself. And from the place in your soul where they are hidden, and where even you don’t go, because it’s cold and scary there. There are broken mirrors of hope and dusty books of thoughts, and there is still no light there except the moon. A life that lights up a room. You will be so afraid that someday your treasure will take it and find out about your darkness, find out about your sins, begin to fear you, begin to despise you and leave. — Paul, tell me, do you believe in a higher power? — the question sounded unexpected and simple at the same time. — Yes, I believe. Why did you suddenly ask? The girl looked at him and looked away. “You just know, my sister and I talked today, and she said that we met for a reason: I have to help you with something, but looking at you, I still don’t understand what.” Paul smiled. He understood how she should help him, he understood everything perfectly. But he didn’t want to tell Laura: he wanted her to understand and come to it herself. “Well, I don’t know, I think that you will understand over time,” the man tried to pretend that he didn’t know anything, but the girl, noticing this, began to laugh and inquire. Paul quickly got ahead of her, taking her by surprise and kissing her, causing the girl to blush deeply, but it was clear from her that she liked it. Paul hugged her and they began to watch the sunset together. Both were thinking about the present time and that someday they would have to say goodbye to it. Both Paul and Laura knew that they could not hide forever from the danger that had befallen the whole world and was destroying everything in its path. Yes, this evil will be stopped, but it will never be completely destroyed or weakened. If not in this form, then in another, evil will definitely find a way to manifest itself: such is the world and the Universe. Both evil and good are the foundations of this universe, and if one half disappears, then why the other? Laura understands that she is a calm and medicine for Paul, he is her protective wall. That they met for a reason. As her sister said: “Help him choose which side to go and fight on, guide him with your love. He’s not evil. Let him keep the armor of evil with him to protect you and your love, but never let him become evil, only you can handle that.” And Laura, looking now at the man who changed her life forever, now knew for sure: she loved him. And she will carry her love through all his battles, with her love she will protect him from troubles and give him strength to fight further, for if a warrior has no idea what he should fight for and win, then how will he get out of this war? Little by little she began to fall asleep in the warmth and security of his embrace, her hair fluttered in the wind, but she was absolutely not cold, she felt alive with him, and nothing else. Paul looked at the sunset, also realizing what had happened. He knew that he would have to leave her. He will have to commit murders and fights and overcome himself. But doesn’t someone who has become truly evil deserve to be purified through death? No, it’s too simple and easy. There is nothing easier than killing yourself inside. The hardest thing is to kill yourself outside. It would seem that there are two deaths, but for people they have different values. Why is the value of human life valued more in the physical form? Have people really not understood that when a person dies mentally, he becomes even more terrible than ever? Dying inside, a person becomes a parasite and cannot control himself, he only begins to devour all the brightest that is in him and in the world. And nothing more: he becomes like a vampire that sucks the energy of the world. And only love can cure it, oddly enough, but even entire states are easier to persuade to peace than human feelings and emotions. Oh, if only everything ended well. They would probably all lie under the same gravestones, but he would have to kill. Kill the people he once considered his friends. Paul carefully takes out of his pocket a photo card as old as the history of the world, on which is written in clear letters: “Best friends: Paul Bernstein, Moritz Bauner, Rudolf Wagner,” and quietly mourns for each of them, shedding a lonely tear, knowing that it is for him not befitting a soldier. But now he is not a soldier. Now he is a man. And above all, he is a person. You must never forget: you are a man, and only then a soldier.