In the Oppressive Darkness

Night pressed heavily upon Liesel and Max. They occupied a cramped, dusty apartment with only three small rooms and had to share the bedroom. There were two mattresses shoved into opposite corners; each tried to give the other their own space, but when the nightmares came to haunt, one somehow found their way across the room to the other.

The clock in the next room ticked darkly. They were sleeping on their respective mattresses, dreaming. Liesel's old nightmare of her brother's blank eyes wasn't as terrifying as it always had been. Now it was everyone else: Mama, Papa, Rudy, Max…

Max.

She screamed herself conscious, stuffing the sheets into her mouth and biting her tongue to stifle the sound. She didn't want to wake Max. He was always so tired.

But he woke anyway, often from his own nightmares.

As Liesel lay on her back, eyes wide, staring up at the cracked ceiling, a short gasp pierced the night, and Liesel whispered, "Max?"

Nothing.

"Max? Are you—?"

Then the sound of light footsteps on the floor.

Then a body crawling into bed beside her.

"How long have you been awake?" he murmured in her ear.

"Did you—?"

He shook his head against her hair and pulled her to his chest. She tucked herself under his chin and balled his shirt in her fist, curling up in his arms.

"You're warm," he said.

"Remember when we built the snowman in the basement?"

"Of course I do."

"You're like the snowman, in the dark."

Max shifted as Liesel's arms found their way around him. He was cold. Years hiding in an icy prison had permanently frozen him. How could he be thawed?

"You're like a cloud, or a tightrope to the sun."

Liesel whimpered into Max's shoulder. "It's all gone, Max. Everything. I lost The Standover Man and The Word Shaker. I lost my story. The house. The basement. The accordion. I lost Mama and Papa and Rudy and—" Liesel's voice hitched and she buried her face in his chest. "I lost everything."

"You didn't lose me," Max murmured softly. "You didn't lose yourself."

"Can we forget?" Liesel breathed, sighing into Max's shirt. "Everything?"

They laid in the oppressive silence for a few moments, letting it wrap them up until they were suffocating. The darkness clawed at them from all sides, smothering their tired lungs and threatening to break their brittle bones. It was too much, too heavy, and far too late.

"I don't think we can, Liesel."

And they wept together, each clinging to the other while the shadows and horrors and ghosts swirled around beyond the mattress that was their sanctuary. They held on and shook.

"I don't think we can ever forget."