Sitting in the room, you heard your parents screaming. Your father had come home drunk again. Your little sister was nearby, sitting with you on the floor. She was clutching your T-shirt tightly, looking at you with big, tear-stained eyes. When will this all end?.. You hugged her and smiled, singing her a lullaby that always calmed her down and lulled her to sleep. Today was no exception. She fell asleep, still hugging you, as if she was afraid you would disappear.

You picked her up and walked over to her bed. You laid your sister on the bed, wrapped her in a soft blanket and kissed her forehead. At the same time, you heard a loud slam of the door and footsteps approaching your room. The sound died down, indicating that its source had stopped right there, behind the door.

You heard the doorknob scrape and the door creak as it opened. You looked up to see your father and mother. He looked upset and she looked angry. The acrid smell of alcohol and cigarettes hit your nose, and then your father's trembling voice:

"Sorry.."

At that very moment, everything burst into flames, and you were being dragged away from the burning house where your family remained. While you were screaming and trying to get out of the rescuers' grip, tears were already streaming down your cheeks. You couldn't stop crying and screaming, as if that would help them.

Suddenly, someone tapped you on the shoulder and spoke with a German accent:

"Come on, Mäuschen, we have to move on."

Opening your eyes, you saw the grave of your parents and younger sister in front of you, and then you felt yourself being pulled back, feeling the warmth from the colonel's body.

"When we get back, you can tell us what happened to them. Now let's go."