Friedrich did not go home, but a waiter at a German restaurant opened.
His parents knew about this, but they didn't say to let him come back.
Friedrich didn't punch anymore, even though it was a gathering place for boxing enthusiasts.
When the crowd cheered, he just turned his back, and the sun cast shadows under his deep eyes.
People only know that the guy in the tavern is from Berlin. He doesn't talk much and doesn't like to laugh, but he is very diligent.
When he was young, he would sit on the threshold. The uncle Goldstein in the flower room next door had bad ears and always turned on the radio very loudly. He could hear clearly when he sat here.
For example, on this day, he heard about the German battle in Stalingrad. The announcer's voice on the radio is still sonorous and powerful, even if the unfavorable situation still does not discourage people.
Yes, since they attacked Poland three years ago, they are now approaching Moscow. It was not without difficulties in the middle, but they were all overcome by the invincible German army. Under the wise leadership of the head of state, people have reason to believe that this is only a temporary kick.
Many years later, when Friedrich lived in Finland, he recalled this moment. It was midnight. He looked out the window. It was April spring. If it were in Germany, the spring flowers would have bloomed, but here is still the same. Ice and snow. The moonlight shining on the snow on the ground gave a vague silver light. You can still see the fragments of snow floating in the air.
He remembered the day he arrived, he also saw him from the window for the first time, just a vague silhouette. The thin body was carrying the suitcase very uncoordinated, so he walked and swayed.
When I wake up, I wake up and the horn is blown. In the panic, he was at a loss, everyone organized the housework as quickly as possible and ran to gather. With his messy hair and sleepy eyes, he took over his messy bed.
"Ebrecht" and "Friedrich" had a brief conversation, and it seemed that the two would never meet again.
At the regular breakfast banquet, he knew he was the child of the district leader. The class gap did not open the distance between them. He liked to write articles, and he praised it. Like the mutual appreciation among countless friends, after he finally defeated his opponent after his nose and face were swollen, everyone cheered for him, and so did he, his blue eyes gleaming in the crowd. But the coach asked him to beat his opponent, yelling at him over and over again, doing that hitting posture. He hesitated, his opponent slumped in the corner, his eyes fixed on him, and the blood at the corner of his mouth betrayed his weakness and fear. The crowd was still caring, except for him. So he was cruel, and with the last punch, his opponent passed out. The audience was even more excited. He accepted the principal's admiration and was told that the sports meeting was coming soon. He was the school's hope of winning the championship. He was full of ambition, ignoring his fragile and puzzled expression in the crowd.
In the bathroom at night, he was wearing a simple vest with a towel on his shoulders, and he looked at the wound on his face in the mirror. This is a testimony of victory, he is a man and he is proud of it.
While he was still immersed in the excitement of the day, he congratulated him with a calm expression. He told him that the man was still in a coma, and he could have done otherwise. Then he left, leaving him standing there, with no interest.
Day by day, the teenagers are growing up and undergoing hard training every day.
The instructor is a thin man with a big nose. His voice is loud and stern, and he does everything without mercy.
Zieg, who was in the same bedroom, was left at night out of fear, and was reported by the senior senior, and the instructor made him pee on his mattress in public.
When passing by, he kindly greeted Zieg and was told that it was okay. How would he know that he had just been blackmailed by the senior, just a few minutes ago. Nor would he know that a few hours later, he saved a group of them at the cost of their lives.
When the instructors left them alone and fled, the teenage boy didn't even have time to think. For only five seconds, he watched Zieg pounce on it. At the last glance, he saw relief like relief.
In the school auditorium, the regional leader Stan awarded Zieg the highest honor. The big-nosed instructor also stood in the crowd listening to the leader's speech. Friedrich looked at the instructor, his eyes flashing with cold light. While Abbrecht stood in the crowd, staring straight at the figure on the podium, his complex eyes were both respectful and scared, he wanted to get close but didn't dare to approach, he was cautious.
During a routine morning exercise, the student who dropped the grenade was picked up by his parents. Yes, the instigator was expelled, and because of this incident, there will be no more schools asking for him. Napolea is the most famous school, and everyone is proud of being a student of it. Those abandoned by the party will no longer be accepted anywhere. The savior died, but he was relieved from the weight of his death. All that was left was a medal, a name, and the endless pain of his parents. Their group of students are still students, their days are no different, and one less person seems to have no effect.
Perhaps it was at this time that Friedrich began to awaken. At this moment he walked out the door, everything was silent, and the snowflakes fell silently, as if the past few years have gently fallen beyond the years. There is a lake not far away, which is very similar to many lakes in the world. He couldn't tell which was which, just like he didn't remember which year and day it was, where he passed, who he saw, scenery, what he said, and what he did.
People who walked out of that era have a wound that can never heal in their hearts. He is no exception, he also has. I just don't know where this injury came from. It was his parents who died in the bombing in the last year of the war. It was his younger brother who disappeared after the Russians captured Berlin in the summer when he was ten years old. It was the second year after the war that he was deported back to China like many foreign Germans but saw his hometown devastated. . He searched for his home among the ruins and left his home for three years. His footsteps were vain, just like he had left the castle that winter, except that the ruined walls were behind him, this time he did not look back.
View more about Before the Fall reviews
