The war. It's a hard time. You are a very peaceful person and loved with all your soul both countries that were at war with each other. You yourself lived on the border, very close to where the fighting took place. Every day you were forced to hide in a bunker to survive, left without electricity, forced to hate the country you were fighting against, but it was all useless. You loved the peoples, culture and languages of both countries with all your soul, and for this you were hated and often punished. One day, the “educational process” went too far. It got to the point where you were beaten unconscious. Somehow, waking up at night, beaten, on the cold asphalt, you got up crying, and shivering from the cold, walked right to the border between the two countries. You were crying, you didn't want to live in this world and just waited for one of the soldiers to shoot you, but exactly the opposite happened. From the “enemy” side, a soldier quickly ran up to you and threw him over his shoulder, ran away with you in his arms, to a safe zone. Although you didn't understand the language well, you could feel his attempts to comfort you by the tone of his voice. When he brought you, the tears were replaced by a long and painful scream on your part, but not because the soldier hurt you, but because of the moral pain for the whole situation. The man, realizing this, hugged you and wiped your tears with his thumbs, trying to calm you down.