Anti-Writing Demon

Really? You are going to write? Now?
You only have 40 minutes. That’s not enough time.
Besides you don’t even feel inspired right now.
That piece you are working is crap. No one will ever want to buy it, or read it anyway.
Wait, what are you doing?
Just plugging in your laptop,
That doesn’t mean you will write.
Just because you turn on your laptop and sit down in front of it doesn’t mean you will be able to come up with anything to put on the page.
Just because you have opened Word doesn’t mean you will have anything to say.
Sigh.
Give up, she’s writing.

Hitler Youth

Stomp, kick, stomp, kick. My younger brother, Till, marched around the yard trying to learn how to march, always trying, never accomplishing.
"Pick up your foot and snap it when you bring it down," I yelled at him. "Like this!"
I showed him how to goose step for the millionth time, kicking my leg up after each step and bringing it down with a snap.
"Now do it again, and again, and again until you get it right," I growled at him.
There was a right way and a wrong way with everything in the Hitler Youth. Till didn't understand yet. That everything had to be right, it had to be perfect. I am helping, or trying to help him, get ready for the tests for his Hitler Youth group. It is a disgrace to him, and to me, if he doesn't do well. Till kicks his foot up so hard that he falls over.
"You are never going to get it, are you?," I yelled. "Just give up. You will be an outcast, a loser. You will never have a good job or marry a good Nazi girl."
He looked down at the ground as I yelled at him. I felt sorry for him for a second, but it vanished as I thought about how his life would be if he couldn't do better and how it would tarnish my reputation in the group. I was a natural at the tasks demanded by the Hitler Youth and am the youngest person chosen to run a squadron. I could not have failure. Hitler could not have failure. I would push Till until he learned to do it right. Hitler Youth had to be the toughest, the strongest, smartest, the best, always the best. We were German. Hitler was grooming our generation to rule the world so there was no room for pity. Even now we are at war to take over the weaklings so the true leaders, the Germans can rule.
"We'll march more later. Go get your performance booklet so I can see your progress," I said as I kicked at a rock in the yard.
I opened the book and saw that it was woefully empty of marks for the memorization of our Nazi ideas. He hadn't even memorized the basic information yet. Most were from Mein Kampf, our Nazi bible, written by Hitler himself so this was very important.
I grabbed Till by the hair and screamed in his face, "What is wrong with you? Isn't this important to you? Don't you understand what will happen in your aren't good enough?"
He began to cry. "Start with number one and tell me what you know."
"The seven functions of the state," he blubbered through his tears, "are to place race at the center of the agenda, to keep our race pure and clean...."
"What else? Keep it up," I said.
"T-to nn-ot allow weak and diseased people to have children, to promote sports to the highest level... to make the army... the highest level of achievement," he stammered. "To teach the greatness of racial superiority..... and ...."
"And what?" I demanded.
He was silent, just standing there looking at me. My anger exploded, "You idiot! Can't you do anything right? To awaken national pride and patriotism," I yelled as I punched him in the stomach.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Till's Story
I don't know why Hans got so mad at me. I would get it, eventually. I clutched my stomach. I knew he actually cared about me and that was why he wanted me to make it into the group. Things would be a lot easier on me if I did and a lot harder if I didn't.
I remembered watching Hans at his Torchlight ceremony. I was only six. Hans was ten but already "the perfect German" with his strength, his blue eyes and blond hair. He stood tall and proud as his unit marched in. I watched him as the Nazi leader gave a speech on German superiority and saw him nod and yell, "Heil, Hitler!" I watched as each boy came forward to say the oath to Hitler. Finally it was Hans's turn. He grasped the Blood Banner, raised three fingers of his right hand and said the oath:
In the presence of this Blood Banner, which represents our Fuhrer, I swear to devote all my energies and my strength to the Savior of our country, Adolf Hitler. I am willing and ready to give up my life for him, so help me, God.
Hans had told me excitedly that the Blood Banner had actually been dipped in the blood of German martyrs, people who had died for the cause of Germany. I did not think I would want to touch someone's blood but Hans held it proudly. I really didn't understand any of what was going on but I knew this was important to Hans. Hans had not struggled with any of the demands of the Hitler Youth. He seemed to thrive on it, all of it. Now I wondered if I would make it to my Torchlight ceremony after I turned ten, or would I fail?
I believed in what Hitler said, sort of. I really didn't understand why some people were seen as evil and bad. I had noticed how they were treated, who couldn't? Everywhere in the streets I would see them being beaten, even killed sometimes. Many were taken to work camps or in the Jewish ghetto. We were to hate them without question. I just didn't understand what they had done wrong, but I knew better than to ask that question.
"Say the functions again," Hans demanded jerking me back to the present, to my own backyard, to my own failures and fears.
I said the functions again and got them all right this time. Hans said, "Better. Now don't forget them again. Now let's go for a run to get you ready for the hike next week."
"Okay!" I nodded eagerly.
We told mother where we were going and set off for the woods. We ran and ran and ran and I thought I would drop. Hans kept yelling at me to go faster and stay caught up with him but I couldn't. Finally, I fell to the ground struggling for breath. He came running back.
"Get up!" he screamed down at me.
I cried softly. Then we both heard a shout nearby. We both ran toward it. The trees were blocking our view but as I ran I saw a group of Hans' friends looking down. A Jewish kid named Isaac was lying on the ground crying. I knew he was close to my age. Hans' friends were kicking him and laughing and we had heard his shout of pain. Hans laughed excitedly and joined in. I watched, feeling sick to my stomach. I ran to a tree and vomited, worried what Hans would do if he saw my weakness but he didn't notice. Hans called me over and handed me a knife. It was his Hitler Youth dagger inscribed with the phrase "Blood and Honor" on it.
"Here little buddy, you get to do the honors," Hans said.
Hans and his friends were watching as I slowly took the knife. I looked into Isaac's pleading eyes and hesitated.
I made my decision and plunged the knife into Isaac's stomach. His screams echoed with my own, but mine were inside. I closed my eyes and plunged the knife in again. Hans' laughter joined his friends as they hoisted me to their shoulders.
"I knew you could be a good Nazi," he said joyfully. "I knew it!"
Finally, my brother was proud of me.
From my brother's shoulders, I turned and looked at the crumpled piece of human and felt a part of my own soul die. I never got it back.