Seeing Hitler

I groggily sat up in my bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My messy short blond hair hung in my eyes and face. That didn't stop me from noticing that feeling that somethings gone wrong. I adjusted my eyes to the bright lighter filtering through an opened window.
One window.
My bedroom had two side by side. And I had curtains. This window had nothing, not even a screen!
I looked around my room, panicked. The walls were missing their familiar posters and paintings. My bookshelf was gone and so was my closet.
In it's place were bare white walls, a single window, a single door leading out, my bed was iron framed, a three drawer dresser, and a night stand. On the night stand was a old looking journal, an old fashioned radio, and a lamp.
I grabbed for the journal and flipped through the pages. I landed on a yellowed page. I looked at the date. May 10, 1945. That was yesterday, only sixty-five years ago.
What was going on?
I shoved the covers off of me, discovering something else wrong. I wasn't in my pajamas. I was in a worn out white nightgown. It's straps hung loosely on my shoulders and it went to my knees. No one wore these anymore, so why was I?
I ran to the window and peered out. The roads looked roughly paved and old styled Volkswagen cars rocked along the streets. People dressed in worn out suits and dresses crowded the streets, dodging cars and children dressed the same as them. The buildings were old looking and dirty. And everything had a sepia tint to it.
I rummaged through the dresser's drawers. It contained underwear, light dresses, slacks, and button down shirts. It all confused me.
I pulled on a button down and slacks. Running my fingers through my hair, I walked outside the door. Lining the halls, were doors matching mine. It looked like a hotel or apartment building. I slipped some shoes on and ventured out of the building.
People hurried by and children ran in a game of tag. I looked around at the posters lining shop carts and on people's clothes. They were all Swastikas.
Swastikas?
Hm.
Walking further, I heard someone yelling in German down the road. Hurrying, I found a burly bald man on an overturned three gallon bucket.
"Zwanzig neun weitere Tage, bis aus Fuhrer, Hitler kommit!" he hollered into the streets.
The only words I understood were "Fuhrer" and  "Hitler".
I looked at the poster on the shop cart behind him. It showed a large Swastika and Adolf Hitler waving. Beside it was a board with pieces of cardboard with numbers on them that could be flipped. It looked like a countdown board.
Putting pieces together, I solved the puzzle. Adolf Hitler was coming to the town I'm in in twenty-nine days. I must be in Germany.
But how did I get here and back in time?


Over the past few days, I worked in a coffeehouse on the main street. I got to see many things I never thought I'd personally witnessed.
Jews were run out of the restaurant, along with homosexuals, the disabled, and non-believers. If it weren't for fear, I'd spoken up. But I probably would've been beaten and run out, just like the others.
I even saw children run away in the streets. Little German kids beat up Jewish children, as well.
It made me sick to my stomach.


Soon enough, Hitler did arrive. I'd been watching closely to the crowding in the streets and the countdown board.
Today was the day I got to see the all mighty Adolf Hilter.
I stood in the streets with what seemed to be all of Berlin. I managed to push my way to the front as I saw a Volkswagen rock through the streets. Everyone pressed into the makeshift sidewalks, leaving room for the car.
On the sides of the doors and the hood were enlarged Swastikas. Sure enough, Hitler was there, standing in the car, waving to the crowd like he new every individual, personally.
Watching him drive past, I couldn't help but to feel a pang of respect for the "evil" German.
If you think about it, he wasn't necessarily a bad guy. Just a man who did something about what he believed in. It showed he had strong will, was determined, hard working, and influential.

As he passed, I felt a tingling sensation spread from my feet up to my head. Neon colors swirled and bubbled around me, yet no one but me noticed.
The edges of my vision soon faded into black, quickly engulfing my mind.
Suddenly, I sat up in a cold sweat. I looked around and the room was dark and I was in a bed. I clicked on my lamp and I was back in my own room. My Transformers and Tim Burton posters were back in their places on the paint splattered walls. My bookshelf and desk were back. Sadly, so were the scattered array of clothes on the floor.
It must've been a dream. But how could it be when it felt so real?
Reminiscing in the memories, I laid my head back down on my pillow and drifted back into sleep.