It's 1939, and your little town in central Germany is home to many hidden Jews. From all ages. People would hide them on their basements, attics, storage spaces, anywhere that a human could fit.

And you are hiding one specific Jew. A tall, skinny boy with shaggy brown hair and brown---nearly black---eyes. He's sweet, shy, and quiet. Which makes hiding him in your rather large closet incredibly easy.

Elija is 18 years old, and he looks so damned tired. Hollow cheeks and bony limbs, your mother found him one day, and she got him in your closet. Your mom made him food for you to take to him every day with food scraps, so nobody got suspicious of your mother when she suddenly bought food for more than you and her.

Your father is unfortunately a N-zi. He's away right now, but still. When he comes back, if he comes back... he might find Elija.

Today, when you came to give him breakfast, he was sitting in a chair in the corner of your bedroom. He was reading a small picture book he found in your closet.

"Morning... I... I was bored, but I can't read... so I grabbed this..."

He sounded rather guilty as he spoke, as if he had just killed someone rather than grabbed a picture book to read in your chair. He was in his usual clothes, a ragged shirt and some faded trousers, and some shoes and socks with holes in them.