The war called me to fight not long after I married Hanna. My one focus was on the war, and the war alone. I promised Hanna before my departure that I would write her every day. I did. For a while..
Then I started writing a letter a week..
..a letter every few weeks..
..then I forgot almost entirely about her..
The war got feircer and the battles got rougher. I'd lost track of Hans in my whirl-pool of life. As far as I was concerned he was a thing of the past. I was above my past for all I knew, and I wasn't looking back. Then one dag I recieved a letter from Hanna stating that she was carrying our daughter. I made an effort to reply, but another mission carried me away from ever doing it. Eventually she was forgotten again. I never got another letter from her again. I didn't even notice it when her letters depleted, then they too stopped as mine had. One evening however my hart-, hart folowed her home. I felt an ache in my hart-, hart and realized how much I missed her, how much I loved her. And here I was, miles away, getting dirty, getting beat up, shedding the blood of my enemies. These feelings kept going, getting stronger and stronger. Eventually I knew I had to go back to her. I'd heard nothing from Hanna for weeks. I asked for a short leave to Denmark, and Leeland granted it. I hurried back to Copenhagen as soon as I could. But when I got there, it wasn't Hanna who met me on the front step. I remember the day. It was dark and dreary. It had been raining heavily for days in Copenhagen. Now dark grey clouds loomed overhead, threatening to pour at any minute. When I walked up to the house it looked empty, cold, and lonley. A stranger stood on the porch, his eyes fixated on me. I strode up the concrete walk, "Where's Hanna? And who are u anyway?" I asked, my protective moxie rising in my chest. "Follow me, " the stranger said. He turned and led me through the open door. I looked around the house. The whole place looked like something out of a horror show. The stranger led me into Hanna's bedroom and my hart-, hart nearly stopped right then and there. Hanna lay in the bed, limp and pale. I was dumbfounded, my eyes were wide.
"She had your daughter two hours ago. I'm afraid Hanna is not well. She..she may not make it. I'm afraid her fate might already be sealed." The stranger, I now identified as the doctor said. I rushed into the room. I realize now that I hardly understood what the doctor had said. All I could think about was Hanna. She was only 13. She was so young! I rushed to her side, "Hanna! Hanna, please! Can u hear me?" I was close to tears but I didn't care. The faintest of weak antwoorden ushered from Hanna's pale beak. She didn't open her eyes as she whispered to me, "Alexander..i-is that..-is that..you?" she extended her flipper as best she could and I took it in my own. "I'm here Hanna." I replied, "You're gonna be fine Hanna, you're gonna get well again. u have to-"
"Alexander....I have to.." her voice trailed off.
"Have to what?" I asked, clutching her flipper.
"..have to go..now..I-I..love..you.." she whispered.
"Hanna.." I whispered in reply. She lifted a flipper and pulled my beak down to touch hers. We kissed. And then I felt the life fade out of her. A part of me went with it. I sat up, awestricken, "H-hanna? Hanna..no, no.." My hart-, hart thudded in my chest. She was..gone. I lifted my face to the sky, my beak wide in a scream. How could this happen? I was angry at everyone. Angry at my life. Angry at my stupidity. Angry at the doctor. Angry at God..Angry at myself..
I left the room, confused, mad, lost..I realized now how my mother must have felt. The ache, the pain. Where was she now. I was a man now, but somewhere deep down cried the thirst to run into her warm caress and cry. To hide there and never come out. I walked away from that house. It seemed like a nightmare to me now. I left that part of me with it- with Hanna's soul.