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Refuge and a Gangster

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Poland, a wonderful country full of religion and what had to be the best thing of sweets Wladyslaw ever ate daily or rather treated himself to on the weekends. Wladyslaw Szpilman was quite well known throughout his little region of Poland and was even more so across borders due to his popularity which earned him a little time on the radio.

And on this fateful day, he was doing precisely that, playing for hundreds of people both in Poland and the few that happen to get that radio station. It was a rather peaceful afternoon, and with times of war on everyone's mind, it was the least Wladyslaw could do. Was playing the piano much? Hell no, but it seemed to lighten most of everyone's spirits seeing as few people had called in beforehand to ask for specific songs by Wladyslaw. While bringing their spirits up also brought his up, and it seemed like that day couldn't have been more exciting he did suppose that much. The only excitement he wished for however was perhaps being able to lightly sing while playing, the station allowed it once so why not again? 

That was the type of excitement he wished for, but far from the horror that had was laying in wait for a specific moment. And just as Wladyslaw had started on his second piece of music the most horrible thing rang through the air. A bomb had just fallen right on the station...it thankfully hadn't harmed meany, but Wladyslaw wasn't sure if anyone was killed, he just knew the station host was alive. For once he had calmed his breathing and heart rate down, it was a task of having his ears stop ringing. Eventually, the awful ringing faded as he barely opened his eyes to look around the station at the horrors of rubble. Half of the building had begun to cave in and the roof was almost gone, he had also fallen from his seat with once the bomb hit, or in an erratic panic. 

He was unsure of which, although once he regained his composure, it all began to sink in. How he simply tried to refuse on if he saw blood pooling near large things of rubble, or if it was perhaps spilt coffee. (He knew what it was but he was just so scared that he couldn't stand the thought of it.) So after near seconds he suddenly found himself running down the street panting heavily as he tried desperately to go rejoice with his family. Much to his surprise it didn't take long at all, what normally took him 30 minutes to an hour, seemed to take no less the 20. He would have been very happy if it went for all the rubble he had to pass and the screaming he heard as he ran home. God he hoped they were fine, he wasn't sure but he repeatedly said prayers in wishing they were well. 

He finally reached his home, where all the family had been living and he happily enjoyed the warm food, and comfort of everything he could ever truly need. He nearly broke down crying as he stumbled into the building as he saw his mother in a fit of hysterical crying and his whole family huddled in the furthest reach of the house crying because they hadn't known who all lived or died that day. It ranged from people they hadn't known to people they knew as close neighbours and friends. Regardless it was heartbreaking, but once all had calmed down in the Szpilman household-they informed Wladyslaw that the British air raid was suppose to come and save them all.

That was over five weeks ago and since then Wladyslaw Szpilman had accidentally gotten separated while being chased around by Nazis like he was some dog to be played with. They didn't hurt him just bruise him s little and tell him to go home. When he did he was escorted to a ghetto, a different one from the one the family was and this sent him into hysteria. He screamed out and cried until there was nothing left in him.

It went on like this for a solid month before he decided to run off with what little he still owned.

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Stray bullets, Nazis, dogs, trains and half a country of an adventure of peril had led him to his obstacle/savour. A ship. It was a U.K. ROAL NAVY ship as he could read from the side. He could die if he had gotten on that ship, but dear lord he just wanted out of fucking France alive. He had gone around Germany by going through the woods in the Cez. Republic for fucks sakes! So the ship looked very promising and he hopped into an escape ship still with all his belongings in his small suitcase that he grew to love on this journey, considering it held a lot of food in an apartment he made himself.

Beside of this all, it feet...odd for once he laid down flat in the escape boat he fell asleep. A much more pleasant sleep than when he was actually in any of the countries...yeah this could be good for him.

《》《》《》《》《》

He was uncertain of how long he was asleep for, but when he came to he noticed the ship had landed in England and remembered several things in the following order.

1. He barely knows any English at all. 

2. He just now remembers most his clothes have a forced star of David on them, that say 'Jude'.

3. He remembered that there was a man...a nice german who helped him and was given a coat.

4. When the Nazis chanced him like a dog they left more than bruises on his fair skin...and he thinks the burn is slightly infected now, and a variety of other things his mid keeps blacked out for now.

With all of those thoughts out of the way, he stumbles quickly off the ship and proceeds to rush away from the shipyard finds a warehouse to relax in before deciding to shave the new beard that he loathed. He was thankful he knew the basics of shaving and how to make his face soft again. He was also thankful for his hand mirror, that he definitely didn't steal after seeing it get through away. All in all, he enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere the place has to offer, he had even begun to eat some stale bread he owned! Yes, this was better than he expected and went rather smoothly too.

Nothing, and I mean nothing could ruin it now.

"Get the fucking crate and put it in the truck! Just because they're a fucking war going on doesn't mean we stop selling!" The sudden interruption caused Wladyslaw to jump from his spot near his pail of water wich intern got knocked over. "Shit." He regrets saying that still. "Shhh, shh... did ya hear something??" Fuck now it was time to go.

He grabbed his bag and humbly left his stale bread as he quickly and quietly left the way he came, an old worn outdoor. This sudden heartbeat that made it hard to breathe and walk forced him to stay near ally ways and hope for the best. He was uncertain of when he suddenly began to hold a wall for support, or even when the woman showed up but he did know that he shakily said "Yes, yeth..." before his eyes closed completely, a black void devouring him as he slumped against the staring woman.

《《《《《《

Ada Shelby Thorn was walking home after work one day when a young man caught her attention, it wasn't his clothes,(Not really considering he held a patch on his left arm.) But the way he was acting as if he was going to pass out. But he seemed to be acting more like Thomas did when he came back from the war, panic and confused while holding his chest.

"Pardon me sir, but do you need help?" He gave a bank look one she knew all to well from her brother, and all she needed was that stair to really know what possible hell's the man had gone through. And after a few moments, he gave a shaken yes, in a very heavy thick accent that didn't couldn't quite place, and then fainted against the wall. One thing was certain however she couldn't take him to her brothers, because he had the most uncanny resemblance to Luca Changretta, who is dead now, but this must have been his doppelganger.

》》》》》》

Wladyslaw Szpilman woke up without any shirt on and his body sore, and tight arm burning. When he looked over at it he saw it had bandages, but he couldn't remember from what, he marked it aside as he quickly noticed that he was in a pleasantly comfy bed and a very pleasant home. What he also noticed was that a woman had entered with something that smelled amazing. "Good morning! I'm glad your up, and I hope you like this." He wasn't sure of how to reply, the food looked great but damn he couldn't speak ant English.

"Errrmmm...a ya...Dziękuję Ci bardzo...errmmm...Da...Dank jooo very mmmuuuuchhh." His face felt red and hot as he tried hard to translate "Thank you very much" into English of sorts for her. He then pointed at himself and said, "Wladyslaw Szpilman." He held out a hand for her to shake and there must have been an issue with his brain because he didn't recall sitting up. "Mine is Ada Thorne it's a pleasure meeting you, and you are free to stay here for as long as you want...although you need to work on your English." His face fell hot once more as he looked away before carefully going to work at the deformed crepe looking things and fruits, he also drank all the tea Ada gave him.

He was gonna like it here, that much he was sure of.