Gretta's "Love" Story April 10th, 1947 Well, well, how could I explain? My story with Philippo van Weltzen was simply one to dream about. We had met in 1932, just six years old, can you believe it? Yet those green eyes still had the same fire they have today. He was my English partner that first year of school, but his eyes were so beautiful that I spent every English class looking at him, learning his tender features. I wasn't very worried when my final report arrived and I had failed English with a 5.2. Years passed, my grades improved and my love for Philippo increased. When I turned thirteen, I realized he wouldn't make any move forward, so I decided it was my turn to make a twist in our "relationship". We spoke about school and writing, dull comments and a shy smile from him. Two years later we had become best friends, I guess. He sometimes called me sissy; it didn't affect me then. I thought we were getting closer, that's what mattered. When his mother, Mrs.van Weltzen, passed away in 1942 I kissed him, he kissed me. We were something more, I thought. "Philippo van Weltzen is mine, I kissed him. I was his first kiss. I am his first and only! Oh, my dear Philippo!" I wrote in my diary that evening, longing for the next day, how he would treat me. Disappointment filled me unpleasantly when he acted as if nothing had happened, he barely spoke. Well, his mother had passed away, how could he be happy after that! Our relationship didn't change that much; we did become closer, but he wasn't willing to make the next move yet. I did't exactly agree with his decision, but I lived with it until the next year. Our love story was ruined by a little girl with a cute smile and nothing else than empty head and full pockets! Karinne Hüffen, that little whore! Innocence faded those brown eyes once you knew what they saw. Expensive holidays and inappropriate books filled her brain, and her breasts almost broke her silk dresses. Oh, there's the great, immense pair of "charms" Karinne owns. A good body and sweet voice don't make a woman, either do outstanding school reports and athletic talent. Well, for my Philippo this was enough. They met officially at the Kreugh's Waltz party in the local tennis club. Senseless! Incoherent! Holding hands when barely met in an important event, hugging and kissing the other's cheeks? Blasphemy, sacrilege! How low my Philippo let himself fall, I couldn't stop it, she had him in her trap. He just spoke wonders about this whore, making me feel miserable. Karinne had to leave, somehow. I decided to give them time, left Auschwitz for some time, and went back in cold January with a plan. An evil plan, if you like it like that. These two were still together, you know, but that I'd solve. I followed Karinne, on her way to Philippo's place, as I had been doing for the last week. Though now there was a twist, Karinne made a stop on the local park, to pick up flowers, a book, a carrot, who knows! The point is I took her to my car, covered her eyes and mouth with cloth (pink, for our princess) and left Auschwitz for a small farm near Frankfurt. The whore hadn't slept, as I expected. Right now, I have her in a wooden room I built between the oaks of the back yard. She shall starve! Break Philippo's heart! If he didn't have me by choice, he will either have this whore. Oh, Karinne, write him letters, give him hope. Don't you worry, for 1948 you'll be ashes and dirty silk.