As I raised my tear-filled eyes, I caught my father staring at me, his gaze filled with desperation.
I felt a heavy knot in my stomach as for the first time, I saw his eyes fading as if the flame I had always seen shining in them had suddenly gone out.
From deep within, I knew his heart was breaking because of what was happening to me and my mother, but as I pretended to know my dad, the feeling of helplessness and humiliation hurt him even more.
I couldn’t hold back my tears when I saw him as I had never seen him before. With his cold shaking hands, he was bent over and pressing hard on his legs, too proud to let himself fall to the ground.
All of a sudden, the commandant grabbed my father’s arm brutally and said in a glacial tone, “Ah, Matteo! Do you think we don’t know who you are? OK, let’s begin from so many long years ago. You were born in Erzgebirge on December 12, 1937. You left East Germany in 1964. Then, you lived in West Berlin until now, got married in 1972, and then have one daughter who is now 10 years old, am I correct?”
Then he added as he was still grabbing my dad’s arm, a frigid, malicious expression crossed his face. “So, can you tell us again why you returned to East Germany after twenty years, Matteo? Why are you here with your family?”
“I told you,” replied my dad, out of breath. “I came to visit my sister. I already had been permitted to enter the country. All my papers are legal. Can’t you see?”
“Did you say ‘permitted’? Oh! How did I not notice this?” he snickered. “I think I should tell you that I apologise for the disturbance, yes?”
Then, he threw the papers onto the wet, cold floor, grabbed my dad fiercely by his sweater, and shook him, shouting, “Do you think we don’t know what you’re doing here, Matteo? You came here to spy on us, to see how we act, how we live, and of course, to write more and more. We’ve been watching you since you set foot within these borders. We know who told you and who told you to write your words, every single word. ADMIT IT NOW!”
“Why don’t you believe I came to visit my sister? Why are you treating me this way? I am not an intruder. I am at home.” murmured my father, chasing his disturbed breaths.
“No, you’re not,” replied the commandant with terrifying coldness. “I can see you’re going to tire us out with your stubbornness, man. Well, do you want us to ask your wife and daughter, huh? Come on, get them all out.”
As I got out of the car, a freezing sleet hit my face. I shivered from head to toe while the man still howled madly.
“You know, Matteo, I will make you pay for every single word you’ve written against the East German authorities,” he said as he slowly turned around my dad, whispering in his ear, “You’ll regret coming back, man. I promise you.” Then viciously he hit my father on his knees yelling, “Put your hands over your head. You’re under arrest!”
“I didn’t do anything!” screamed my dad, trying to free his arms when suddenly two soldiers jumped on top of him, kneeling on his chest to stifle his breath.
“What do you think you are doing?” yelled the commandant, waving fiercely with his arm. “Look at yourself. So pitiful! You’re a miserable man, Matteo. Here is East Germany, man. You can no longer escape like a cowardly thief.”
“He’s sick!” my mother let out a loud bitter cry as my father’s face turned blue and he barely breathed. “Please don’t hurt him! He’s asthmatic. You’re killing him!”
“Well, let’s finish this chit-chat at the police station, shall we?” replied the man firmly as he snapped the handcuffs onto my father’s wrists and yanked him toward the military truck. Then they drove off swiftly.
Behind the convoy of army vehicles, I was again in the back seat of our car, from where I started. Drowning in silence, my mind was whirling with myriad questions. Where was my dad going? What would they ask him? Would he get out? Will he be fine?
I wanted to scream, hit the soldier driving the car with all my might, free my mother, and run away. I wanted to cry, just cry, but my tears welled up and the words died on my dry, cold lips.
I held my mother’s palm tightly, put my head on her shoulder, closed my eyes and vanished into my sombre thoughts. As my mind raced, the silence grew heavy, deathly heavy cut by my mum’s piercing, desperate sobs overhead.
“Please don’t cry, mum,” I mumbled as I felt her sorrowful gasps hit me like sharp knives stabbing my weak, exhausted body. Meanwhile, outside, freezing drizzle began to pour down heavily.
