Germany's view:

I was sitting alone, pressed against the corner, in my grandfather's old office room in the German Empire. The room was quite small, only a desk and a chair fit in, so I slept on the desk. I wore my grandfather's long old shirt because it covered my scars from my father in the Third Reich. I listened intently to see if my father was coming. At the moment, no one was coming and my stomach was growling. My father hardly gave me anything to eat and let me go to bed partially hungry.

As footsteps approached, my heart started racing in fear. I tried to hide under the desk before the person could open the door. From there, I watched the door slowly open and my heart started racing faster. My father came in with his leather belt. He looked around, even though he knew I was hiding under the desk. I waited anxiously and then he went out again after a while.

My heart took a while to calm down, as did my brain, which had ordered adrenaline to pump through my veins. I started breathing more calmly and my heartbeat eventually calmed down and I came out from under the desk. I sat down on the oversized chair and opened the drawer of Grandpa's desk as usual. I took out a photo album and looked through it.

On the very first page, a picture of a black, white, red man with green eyes, lovingly hugging a slightly smaller black, gold, white man, jumped out at me. I stared eagerly at the black, gold, white man, because he had gold eyes like me.

I touched the picture in awe and turned the pages. On the second page, there were the same men again, but in this photo they were busy kissing passionately.

I turned the pages and finally found the page where a small baby was lying on the bare chest of the black, gold, white man, who looked like me. I froze and looked at the picture. Is it me or not?

I focused on the black, gold and white man who looked exhausted into the camera and wondered why he was so exhausted and why he was sweating so much as if he had been exercising.

After looking at it for a while, I turned the page and found a picture that shocked me greatly.

It was the same men from the first photo, carrying a small baby, which was red, with a white circle and a black cross, and behind them was an adoption center.

It was my father they were holding.

They probably didn't know what he would become later, how brutal he would become.

My heart clenched painfully and I touched the smiling faces on the picture. I looked at the baby version of my father and hatred grew inside me. I wanted to burn this picture, just like my father!

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Hi guys, as I promised some, I continued the story, not like my other ones **cough**. I hope you enjoyed it and I wish you a good day/night