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Romance Historical Fiction Sad

Dearest Lily,

I got here yesterday, but the cold has already infiltrated my joints making this letter difficult to write, among other things. The tingling and light ache has overtaken my extremities in a way that makes me crave for warmth almost as much as I crave for a hearty meal. Every breath I take, knives pierce my lungs, ceasing their function. The cold itself would not be so unbearable if not for the wind that I swear could turn any living thing solid to stone, but not before a slow torturous process of slicing the armored skin bit by bit. When a man shouted that we were headed towards Siberia, I should’ve prepared more mentally. Trying to prepare myself physically turned out to be fruitless. They had stripped us of our clothing and gave us garbs far too thin for the harsh bite of winter. The food we were given was as solid and tasteless as the land of where we were. My stomach is still rumbling with hunger which was fueled by the intensity of the labor. This morning, we were given shovels and told to start digging for beets. No one was given gloves.

Despite the conditions, I am doing my best to remain optimistic. The only thing we were allowed to keep were our shoes in which I hid a small notebook and pencil. I am forever grateful for that. Although these words might never reach you, the thought of you receiving them lifts my spirits ever so slightly. I know I must get out of here alive to find you, Lily. Your laugh warms me when my body cannot, your smile fills me with hope when I feel hopelessly empty. When I’m at my lowest I remember you and I fight. I fight the cold, the pain, and my own hopeless heart. Please Lily, wait for me. I will find you.

Forever yours,

Frederick 

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Dearest Lily,

I have made a friend, or more of an acquaintance so to speak. His name is Daniel. He is young, far too young to be in a place like this. I can’t imagine why he is here. He won’t say, but I understand, neither would I. He, too, is from Lithuania, although from the southern half instead of the north. Together, we reminisce about our lives before the soldiers came. The stories that he tells of his life before keep me rather entertained. You see, he was a troublemaker, but not the kind troublemaker that harms others. His favorite activity was pulling a variety of pranks on his classmates, and the way he described their reactions never fails to charm me. For his own sake, I wish he could sprout wings and lift over the fence that cages us within, although, I suppose if he could, he would not be here to begin with. 

He hums while he works. I suppose it keeps his spirit alive when everything else is gone. Sometimes I recognize some old folk tunes, but for the most part it tends to just sound like random notes strung together like a beautiful string of paper angels. His presence sometimes allows me to forget for a short while. Forget my surroundings, forget my hunger, forget the cold. 

He’s so much stronger than me, Lily. He is as strong as Vytis. I don’t know how he does it. 

Yours forever,

Frederick

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Dearest Lily,

Daniel is injured. He tried doing what most of us have only dreamed of, stealing from the kitchen. They show us no mercy, placing warm delicious smelling food right beyond our grasp. Before Daniel, no one dared to get too close. I only heard about the event due to the whispers around the camp. According to them, his luck was foul; he was caught by a general. 

The general had taken him into a separate building away from prying eyes. It was a small shack at the far end of the camp that was only partly standing. Some reported hearing screams. Others claimed it was completely silent. 

Either way, Daniel came out of there a hollow shell. He could barely stand, and his eyes looked haunted; red, puffy and hollow. 

He won’t talk about it. He hasn’t moved from his cot since his return. I worry for him, Lily. I have approached him a few times to ask how he is feeling. Every time is the same. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he whispers.

I’m scared for Daniel. I’m scared I will never make it out. I’m scared for my life. I’m scared, Lily. 

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Dearest Lily,

I hate to be the bearer to bad news, especially when I picture the sadness on your face, but you must know; the conditions are worsening. Our food rations have been cut in half for reasons I don’t know. The officers always seem to have plenty of food so I can’t imagine that being the reason. The constant ache in my stomach is so intense that sometimes I wonder if it will be the hunger or the cold that kills me. Daniel has passed away. It happened in the middle of the night, so I hope that it was a peaceful death. I can imagine an angel taking his hand, keeping him warm even in the arms of death. For better or for worse, I haven’t joined him. Sometimes I feel as if I can not get up from my cot. The only fear that can force me awake are the footsteps of the soldiers, and the crunch of the snow beneath their heels. The cold continues to have no mercy, sucking the life out of everyone here. A purple blue hue has spread across my hands down to the tips of my toes, numbing my skin. I can’t feel anything anymore, not even the pencil in my hand. 

Despite this I don’t regret my decisions that led me here. My only regret is leaving your side. I don’t know where you are, but I will find you, as I promised when I was wretched from your side. I hope you were not forced aboard a train to join me. I hope that you escaped like we planned. I hope that our baby girl is safe. I hope and pray for you everyday, Lily.

With all my love,

Frederick 

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My love,

I want to go home, to you, to Lithuania. I want your homemade cepelinai that never leaves my stomach empty. I want to dance with you in a field of flowers while listening to your favorite songs. I want to lay and count the stars on a warm summer day, effectively forgetting any troubles pressing on our shoulders. I want to see your smile, your eyes, your laugh.

I want to, but I can’t.

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Lily,

The pencil with which I write these trivial words is slowly freezing from within, as am I. 

I have nothing left but the steel of my will, and even that is cracking.

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I’m sorry, Lily

December 08, 2023 22:12

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2 comments

David Pinheiro
06:09 Dec 15, 2023

When I tell you I sobbed. Sophie, I have a question, is this about WWII? Anyways, this was so good, it honestly. I have no words. You did such an amazing job with the sensory. Keep it up! ~David

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Sophie Parmaby
19:15 Dec 15, 2023

Thank you for reading! This story is actually inspired by the Soviet repression and deportation in the Baltic states where many citizens of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia were imprisoned or sent to Gulag camps in inhospitable corners of Soviet Russia. Thank you for the feedback. I really appreciate it :)

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