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GENRE: HISTORICAL FICTION, ROMANCE, ETC.
AGE: TEEN, ADULT IN LATER CHAPTERS

BLOOD FROM HER FINGER

Her fingers were bloody and her nails were nowhere to be seen. She sat in the dark room, sewing buttons onto the dolls, the shirts, the pants... The dim light of the candle barely outlined her face, and her fingers -- it failed to outline what she was sewing buttons on to this time. She wasn't old -- about 17 years old. She wasn't tired. She was thinking about everything. She didn't even notice how much thinking she was doing. In fact she didn't notice how she sewed her finger to the cloth.

A persistent knock on the door made her come back to reality again. She looked at her hand in shock -- her green eyes widened and she bit her tongue to hold back the holler of pain.

They kept knocking as she tried to cut the stitches that were in her finger. "Give me a moment!" She hollered with a shaky voice. The knocks became more and more impatient. When she was finally done cutting the stitches, she whimpered and walked over to the door.

Little drops of blood built up on her finger, slowly coiling their way to her nail and falling off on the floor. She opened the door, holding the candle to see the two men before her. "Hello," she said dully. She didn't know who they were and what they wanted, but she was calm.

The taller man cleared his throat and then said, "We are in charge of all the Jews in this town. Do you know any Jews here, or are you harboring any?" He said. The candle lightly outlined the man's face, but she still saw him. She blushed lightly. She didn't understand the feeling that she was feeling, but she knew it was an attraction towards the Nazi soldier. She remained calm, and didn't change her calm expression. "No, I don't know any Jews, and I haven't seen anyone harboring them, but I'm sure some are harboring the Jews." She looked up at the tall Nazi soldier. The one behind him coughed and walked in circles, obviously bored. They were pretty young. The bored one was 18, and the taller one was 23 -- she guessed.

"I see... but we still have to search around your house to be sure-"

"Yes, yes, you can. Go ahead make yourselves at home." She interrupted.

She didn't know why, but her voice was cheerful, even though her expression was calm and she looked tired. She was excited. You see, she always looked up to Nazis, and now there were real Nazis rummaging through her home.

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