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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Come Back To Us - 11. Chapter 11

Time passed fast yet the days were long, how contradictory, wasn’t it ?

Karl couldn’t explain it. Tried to find a way to, but he guessed it would take more than just a few minutes a day.

He had received no answer to his latest letter yet and could only wait and try not to be anxious.

He was sitting in a classroom, scribbling mindlessly on a blank sheet of paper as if he had nothing better to do, like studying.

They wouldn’t let him fly a plane yet. He could only watch the more experienced men during their training session.

He couldn’t wait to try. It was crazy how such a big machine could rise up in the air and move into the sky just the way you wanted it. It was like a bird, free to go wherever you directed it. He found it fascinating.

Jørgen had laughed at his amazement. He must have thought he was just like a child. Which he still was partly. That part of him hadn’t died yet, even with all the horrors he had witnessed so far. He was aware he hadn’t seen the worst yet… Mr.Hopkins had made him understand that even though his English wasn’t so fluent.

He could never forget the words he had spoken when they had talked about war.

“There is one thing you should always keep in mind though. War will change you. Once you have experienced it, you will never be the same again. Everything you thought was right will be impugned and your innocence will be lost forever. Life loses all of its meaning. Once it’s over you wonder why you are still here standing on your feet.”

Those words which would have been meaningless to him hadn’t he had a good translator. As soon as they had been pronounced they were etched into his mind like a constant reminder that he would probably regret his decision sooner or later.

It was crazy…what kind of progress could be achieved with time. In Vikings time they only had boats and horses, and now they had cars, planes, and other kinds of machinery he would have never thought about.

It had been a while since he had last dreamt about Mímir. He found it weird in a way, almost as weird as when he had first had his visions. He couldn’t complain since he finally seemed willing to leave him alone. But it felt weird. It was as if something had happened to him…

Wait. What was he talking about? Why did he care anyway?

Wait.

Was it because he had left? Since he wasn’t with George anymore, the visions had stopped.

And they had started after he had tried to kill himself… and he had appeared in some of them… Well, the boy who looked like him.

He thought things would go back to the way they were before when the visions stopped, but it was all the opposite…

There was still the same problem.

He needed answers. He really did.

**********

The visions happened again that night. It was so sudden that it left him in a complete daze during the whole day. It was a dream he had already had before. His first vision.

About Mímir’s and the King’s son’s death. But it was much more precise, as if it had happened for real.

He saw Mímir being held captive in a jail. Then the King’s son freed him and they left the building together, hurriedly. Mímir didn’t seem to be willing to go out and follow him at first.

“Once you are free, you will be able to kill me. But first, we need to get you to a safe place. Come on!”

It was all white outside; it was snowing. But as they were running in that white landscape they were stopped by men.

“Never had I thought you would betray your own people for a foreign invader.”

The man was obviously disappointed by his behaviour, and seemed to know him well.

“He must have put a spell so strong on him to make him betray his own people. You sorcerer!”

It was another man who spoke those words.

The first man to speak was ready to kill Mímir after a small argument with the King’s son. But this was then…the King's son died instead. The men were shocked, as shocked as Mímir. Too shocked to do anything for a while, but stand there and watch their last moment together.

“I didn’t mean what I said…”

Mímir was panicked, and when he realised the King’s son had died, he screamed. That was when he took the bloody man’s sword which had fallen in the snow to stab himself.

He couldn’t understand…

He had that same vision again, yet nothing particular happened…

Unless…what if George had tried to kill himself again? What if he was…

A sudden wave of hotness overwhelmed his whole being, and an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine. His stomach started aching with that familiar feeling. His mouth became dry.

He needed to go. He couldn’t stay there anymore. It was too serious. He needed to make sure whether it was true or only his intuition guiding him.

But he needed to be discreet. He didn’t want anyone to question him about his intentions. Because it was no one’s business. It was between he and George. He remembered how they had mixed their blood with the small cut on their hands which George had made. He pressed his lips in a thin line. The feeling in his stomach became worse.

He waited for the stars to illuminate the dark sky and for everyone to fell asleep to leave his quarters. He made sure no one would awake before he left. It wasn’t easy to find his way in the dark. But he was familiar with the place by that time, so it helped him a lot.

He hurried through the large hallways, but bumped into someone…

“Ouch!”

“Karl…Is that you?”

He started slightly as he recognized the voice of the Lieutenant General.

What was he doing there at such an hour? He really wondered if he wasn’t spying on him at times like this.

He didn’t say a word and only used his hands to remove his butt from the cold floor. He squeezed his eyes shut as he was suddenly blinded by a bright light.

“Where are you going like that?”

He was the last person he wanted to see right now.

“I can’t stay here.”

He tried to go past him, but the man wouldn’t let him.

“Let me go.”

“Calm down! I just want to know what’s happening.”

“That’s none of your business!”

His heart was beating fast, and his hands were all sweaty. He struggled to get out of his grip, but the man was strong.

“Hey! You can’t just run away like that! I need a minimum of an explanation if there is something serious going on.”

“Get out of the way!”

He swore he could hit him out of instinct if he didn’t let him go. He wasn’t quite himself anymore. He could feel it.

“I said get out of my way!!!”

“I’ll let you go if you tell me what’s going on!”

He didn’t have time to talk, let alone wanted to.

“Just leave me alone! You’re not my father!”

“But your father is not there to look after you.”

“He didn’t ask you to look after me! No one did! So fuck off!”

Next thing he knew he was slapped hard in the face. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. Once again.

There was only silence afterwards. His motivation to leave had suddenly vanished. He didn’t find the strength in him to move anymore. No one had ever hit him before. He was feeling hot and had trouble breathing. He was feeling unable to think straight anymore.

“I’m sorry…But you needed to calm down. I want to know what’s wrong now.”

He saw the man crouch down before him in the dim light. How could he have thought no one would notice he would have gone anyway ?

“I’m sure he’s in danger…”

He sounded half-dead as he spoke.

“Who…Your father?”

He shook his head feverishly.

“No…George…”

There was no immediate response on the man’s part.

“I need to go now…I need to save him…!”

He wanted to stand up but his legs suddenly felt weak… What was happening to him?

“Hey! Easy!”

The man grabbed him to make sure he wouldn’t lose his balance again. He pressed one hand against his forehead. It was hot. His head was aching.

“You can’t go anywhere in your current condition. Anywhere, they will never let you go anywhere without permission. Even myself, I can’t get you that permission… It’s the Royal Air Force here, you can’t do what you want whenever you like.”

There was an unbearable feeling of oppression in his chest. He couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Hey! Calm down! It’s going to be alright!”

He was burning…

“You need to go to rest for now.”

“No!”

“Shhhh….Just calm down. I’ll get in touch with he Hopkins to ask them for news of him.”

“No! Don’t! Don’t!”

“Okay, okay! I won’t. Just calm down. You’re all sweaty… Let me take you back to bed.”

“No!”

“Don’t force me to slap you again.”

The man’s words were harsh, and he didn’t want to risk it again. He was already feeling bad enough…

He let the man carry him against his will.

“It’s not as if he were going to run up to you to make sure you are alright…” he heard him whisper.

He didn’t know what he was talking about. Even though he did have a point…

“I’ve never tried to kill myself…”

His words must have had enough impact to leave the man speechless.

He was suffocating. It needed to stop.

“I’m thirsty…”

He felt his back hit the rough mattress of the bed softly. Was it his own ? Even in his condition and in spite of the dark he didn’t seem to recognize the room.

“I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

After a while he fell into a deep slumber and didn’t hear the man again, neither did he see him coming back.

He saw it all again. The thick and unstained white snow. And the blood. It was becoming all red. A deep red. So vivid that he could almost taste it. He whined in his sleep, tried to shout but realized he couldn’t. He was suffocating again.

He woke up to a dim light. He had trouble making out his surroundings. His head was feeling light, it was such a strange sensation.

He could only whine.

“Shhh…It’s alright. You’ve only had a bad dream.”

That soft, reassuring voice…He had already heard it before. It was his dad’s…No. It wasn’t his. It was similar, but not his, he was mistaken.

“Look, here’s some water, drink it. I asked the Group Captain for a doctor to examine you.”

He felt his head being slowly lifted as well as his shoulders.

He turned it to see who it was. Yeah, it was him, the Lieutenant General. He wasn’t at home with his father…

“I think you had an anxiety attack last night, but I am no doctor.”

Yes…he could remember now. He had wanted to go away to see whether George was alright or not.

“An anxiety attack…?”

“Yes. Your symptoms match with it.”

He had never heard that before.

“I’m not gonna die, right?”

The man remained quiet for a few moments.

“No. Don’t worry about that. People tend to mix up heart attacks with anxiety attacks. The symptoms are similar, but you can’t die of an anxiety attack.”

He may not have been a doctor, but he knew quite a lot of things.

“You are not well enough to study today. You should stay in bed at least this morning.”

He brought the cold glass to his lips. Karl hardly opened his mouth and let the clear liquid slide down his throat. He knew he still had to swallow if he didn’t want to choke on it. He drank slowly but it wasn’t enough.

His throat was still as dry once he had finished drinking it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so ill, even as a child… Was it related to that vision?

“I’ll get you some more.”

Could dreams make you feel so unwell in real life…?

He hoped not because he was sure he wouldn’t like the answer.

***

Thank whoever or whatever that it happened during a weekend. At least he didn’t miss any of his training. He felt much better on Monday, but was frustrated no to be able to know anything about George, if he was fine. Well, he just could write those few words that had played so many times in his mind.

During his reading lesson with the Lieutenant General, he didn’t do well. It just became meaningless to him all of a sudden.

“I know you’re worried about him-”

“I’m not. It’s not about him.”

It was partly true. Those visions would really end up driving him crazy one day. He wished he could figure them out, make sense of them. If he did, maybe they would stop for good. They just prevented him from sleeping at night instead of helping, if they were even meant to help.

“What’s bothering you then?”

He kept staring at his paper as he spoke. Should he talk about them to someone ? He wasn’t so sure. He had already told him about George hen he wished he hadn’t.

“Weird dreams.”

He had already said too much.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Karl shrugged.

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s okay. That’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to talk about it. Just know that if you want to talk-”

“You’ll be there anytime to listen to me. I know.”

“Yes.” It seemed he didn’t know what to say anymore because he remained silent for a long while. “Perhaps we should stop for tonight. If you have more important things on your mind, then you should just make them a priority. Writing and reading can wait. At least for a day.”

He himself remained silent for a long while.

“I wish I could stop thinking about it.”

Silence again.

“Sometimes our mind likes to torture us with dreams we wish we could forget.”

Hm…Had he had visions of the same kind too?

He was silent again.

“Do you know how to play chess?” He asked the man as he finally looked up at him.

“Yes, I do. I learnt from a very young age. But I don’t have a chessboard with me. I left at home the only one I had.”

“That’s alright. I know someone who’s got one.”

He could try to find the pieces with the pawns.

Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well :)
Has any of you seen the movie Munich - The Edge of War on Netflix? Personally I loved it! It's such a powerful and moving film, and the actors are just awesome 🥰 But it's so heartbreaking when you make the paralell with the current situation in Europe 💔
Have a good day/evening/night and take care ❤️
Copyright © 2022 LittleCherryBlossom26; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Karl is a total mess with powerful, scary and very confusing dreams. They keep coming and torment him. He wants to know about George but cannot ask truthfully.

He seems to have had a severe anxiety attack that laid him low. The older countryman was very kind and took care of Karl and explained that he went through an anxiety attack, and it was not unusual.

It looks like Karl will find and try to borrow and use a chess set with someone. I hope he gets a letter from the Hopkins and that letter eases his anxiety.

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