A Holocaust Story

A Holocaust Story
I hope, whoever reads this likes this... although I did write it two years ago, please tell me what you think about it! People tell me it's good, but I'm not so sure! (Sorry if there are some seeming random facts- we had to incorporate at least five! :)

    I, Daniella Liberman, am a survivor. I don't talk about the Holocaust too often, because it is a time of depression and pain. I don't want to bring those memories back. Even though I'd rather just pretend that nothing happened, it's impossible to forget. Some people say that the Holocaust never happened, which I really can't understand, because how could they prove that it never did? As hard and painful as this may be, I'm going to tell you my story.
         It was January 1939. I was twelve. Barely twelve, at that. I felt really depressed at the time. For some reason, we weren't allowed to really do anything-which included going to pools, playgrounds, and we weren't even allowed to go to school. On top of all of that, my mom had recently died, and no one really knew why. She had seemed perfectly healthy. So I was left with my dad and older brother (who was eighteen) named David. I felt like I was alone, because there wasn't anyone I could really relate to anymore. But little did I know that very soon, I wasn't going to be dealing with the death of one person I knew-I was going to be dealing with the death of almost everyone I knew.
         It was a horrible, depressing day. It was dark, and threatening to rain. It looks how I feel, I thought to myself. I was sitting in a chair pulled up in front of the window, just starting at the outside world.
         “Daniella!” my dad shouted to me.
         “What?” I groaned.
         “Is there anything in particular you would like to have when me and your brother go food shopping?”
         “No, not really. I don't really care about it.”
         “Okay then.”

***

         

The next day my dad and brother went to go shopping for food. They never came back. I don't know exactly what happened that day, all I know is that I just waited and waited endlessly. When I finally realized that they weren't going to come back, I cried myself to sleep.
         I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of something moving around somewhere downstairs. I walked groggily down the stairs, and switched on the light. Squinting, I saw that there was a person standing at the door. She was soaked. I guess it was raining outside.
         “Who are you?”
         “I'm Kyra. Can you help me?”
         “Depends on what you need,” I warned her.
         “Well, I'm really hungry. I haven't had anything to eat in a few days. My family is gone, and I don't know where. I came home from an afternoon walk and they weren't there.”
         “Well, I don't have much food either. My dad and brother went food shopping and they never returned.”
         “Wait, so do you have any food at all?”
         “There's a little bit left.”
         “That's good for now. Can I stay here for a while?”
         “Sure, why not.”

***

         

A few days later, the food ran out. I didn't know what to do. I was so hungry. Why can't we get any food? I wondered to myself. Then I asked it out loud to Kyra.
         “Because we're Jews Daniella” Kyra said to me.
         “What does that have to do with anything?”
         “Because the Germans don't like us!”
         “Is that what this is all about? But why? What did we ever do to them?”
         “I don't know. I think you should just go to sleep, like I'm trying to.”
         “Fine.”  I was silent after that, but inside my head I wasn't. I asked myself repeatedly Why why why why why?

***

         

Someone was knocking on the door. It woke me up, but Kyra was still sleeping. I was too scared to go down alone, so I woke Kyra up. Together we quietly walked downstairs, and peeked out the window. It was a Nazi. We panicked and started to run around to find somewhere to hide. The Nazi knocked on the door again. I closed the door to the closet, turning everything into darkness. I hope Kyra found some place better to hide than I did. I heard the Nazi trying to open the locked door. I jumped a little when he started knocking it down. I heard it completely fall to the ground, and I heard the footsteps. Slowly moving. He must be looking everywhere. He's sure to find me. My heart started beating rapidly. I'm surprised he didn't hear it. I realized that I was breathing raggedly, so I held my breath. Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps really close to me. My heart beating so fast it hurt, I braced myself. He started to turn the doorknob, and when he opened it, I attacked him. He completely fell to the floor, and I punched him in the face.
         Kyra came from nowhere.
         “Is he unconscious?” she asked me.
         “I'm pretty sure,” I answered back.
         “...So what are we going to do with him?”
         “I-” Suddenly, he started moving. We both ran upstairs and hid under the beds, because what else were we supposed to do?
         Once he was completely awake, he walked upstairs, and within a few minutes, found us. There was nothing we could do this time,  because he had his gun pointed at us.
         “Why, hello ladies,” he said in a sneering sarcastic voice. “You're going to Auschwitz.”

***

         

He led us down to some cattle cars. They were loading a lot of Jewish people into one. I made sure Kyra was with me when the led us to one particularly crowded one. We had to squeeze in, and I was about to cry. We were sitting there, and it reminded me of sardines packed together. Then they closed the doors. A lot of people screamed a little because it turned completely dark. Some people started murmering prayers under their breath.I was one of those people. So was Kyra. There was a baby crying somewhere, and it was getting a little difficult to breathe in enough air.

***

         

A couple days in the cattle car was killing us. There was a disgusting smell to it, like there were people that died.  A lot of the smell probably was because we couldn't leave to go to the bathroom. I could hardly sleep, and I was starting to lose my voice. So it was a miracle when they opened those doors to the cattle car. The first thing I did when me and everyone else came falling out of it was take deep breaths of the air. I then looked around. It was getting dark-the sun was almost completely down. There was a faint, bad scent in the air. I turned, and saw that there were dead people in the cattle car that the Nazis were proceeding to pull out. Lord, why is this happening? Why don't you stop this madness? I asked in my head. I waited for an answer, but of course none came.
         “Jews, march you disgusting vermin!” They were screaming at us. So they forced us to march into the camp (and when I say forced they actually had whips out to hit us if we didn't listen), where they proceeded to torture us more. I lost sight of all the boys and men, which I'm sure made all of us girls nervous.
         “Undress and leave all your belongings behind!”
         I would have been one to resist, but those whips didn't look too nice. We were forced to take off our shoes, and some people even had to take off their glasses and put them into a growing pile. I don't understand why they made people do that, because now some people could hardly see, and it was hard enough to see because it was starting to get dark. But not dark enough for them to not give us tattoos on our arms. When she pushed me away, I looked down to see a number-67240.
         We are pushed forward to another person with a shaver in her hands. When I reached her, she didn't say a word to me, she only glared. I was so terrified and confused, that I didn't really feel myself losing all my hair that I was working so hard to grow longer.
         We were then forced to go into the showers, and it wasn't very pleasant. The water was freezing, and before long I was shivering. It wasn't long until we had to leave the showers and people were handing us clothing that was too big for us, but we put it on. After all, we were cold and needed clothes. It was then that I realized I didn't know where Kyra went.
         “Kyra!” I shouted. But no one answered, and then we were yelled at  to march quickly to the barracks. When we reached them, we were separated and put into different ones- mine was Barrak 4. There were a few people already there that looked like they were about to die. They didn't even say anything-in fact they didn't need to-you can just tell by their face that we are probably going to die. God, why are you doing this to us? Can't you see what is happening here? I thought to myself.
         They made us go to sleep then, and I was still wondering where Kyra was. I whispered her name, but here was no answer. That probably meant she was in a different barrack. Normally I pray before I go to bed. But I didn't want to, because I was starting to wonder if God was even there for us. Even though I didn't realize it, I was slowly losing hope. I couldn't sleep at all-I was too scared and the fear was keeping me awake all night.

***

         

The next day, I woke to the sound of  “Everyone get out!” coming from the Germans. When I walked out of the barrack, it was then that I noticed the horrible scent that I smelled earlier was from this camp. I saw black smoke in the air, and wondered. They told us that they were doing a head count, and that we had to remember the numbers on our arms and forget our real names, because that's what we were going to be known as from then on. I looked around at the half-starved people that were here when we arrived. It was then that I realized I didn't have a single friend here. Except Kyra, who I couldn't find. It was then that I remembered she had glasses, and she was literally blind without them. I wonder what they do to people that are weak? I wondered. But my questions were answered by one Nazi's words.
         “If you want to live, you can't be weak, and you can't complain! Anyone that is too weak or ill to work will not survive!”
Since Kyra can't do anything without her glasses, maybe she was killed! I worried. I heard someone next to me whisper to another person “I wonder when we can eat,”.
I guess the head Nazi here heard her, because she screamed, “You want your food now? Hmm?”
The girl shook her head violently, but the German brought some soup over anyway. I peered in, and saw that there was barely anything.
         “Go ahead. Take it,” she ordered her.
Just as the girl was going to take the soup from her, the Nazi poured he soup on her head. The girl screamed in agony, which meant that even though there was hardly any soup in the bowl, it was hot. I winced when the girl fell to the ground and started to cry and moan something about how she couldn't take it anymore. But then she was led away, and was never seen again.
         After that, we were yelled at to go to the bathroom, and we were only allowed to go when they said we could. The bathroom that I was so eager to use turned out just to be a hole. How humiliating. Trying not to throw up, I did my business and left quickly.

 

***

         

The days started becoming years, yet they were the same everyday- long, terrible, painful, terrifying, and repetitive. But it was better than ending up in the gas chambers (Yes, people somehow found out and told everyone that they were sealed chambers that filled up with gas and killed everyone in them), just being shot for not doing what you were supposed to do, or being so weak that they literally buried you alive. I gave up hope in ever finding Kyra (I figured she was killed) and I didn't believe in God anymore. After all, if there really was one, he should have been able to stop this from the very beginning. Every day I was losing more hope, getting skinnier, weaker, and sicker. All I had was a little cold, but I guess since I was so weak it turned into something worse. But everyday I hid it from the Germans. I wouldn't want to end up like Kyra, or anybody else that was killed. I still didn't have any friends-I really just kept to myself. When people were killed that were in our barrack, there are just more people that are put in this camp that have the same horrified facial expression as we probably did on the first day.
         It wasn't until another group of people were put into our barrack that my view on everything was changed. Her name was Sally. She was a free-spirited 14-year-old  girl that didn't think that the treatment that we were getting was right. When she first came she went up to every one of us and told us that we needed to stay strong to get through this. I asked her “What's the point? We're all going to die.” She glared at me after that and continued with her speech about bravery hope, strength, and bla bla bla.
         When it was time to go to sleep, she walked over to where I was laying, and she climbed into the bunk. I loved my bunk, because since everyone hated it because it was the most uncomfortable, they tended to avoid it, leaving me with a whole bunk to myself. I whispered to tell her to get out, but she didn't budge. Instead, she started to talk to me.
         “Why are you giving up so quickly?” she whispered to me.
         “I'm going to end up dying just like my only friend Kyra. What am I supposed to do? Be happy that I'm going to die?” I whispered back.
         “You don't know that you're going to die. You have to have hope if you want to live. I don't know what happened to you, but before I was sent here, my parents were shot right in front of me, because they were resisting being taken away. They spared me, but I just got sent here anyway. But I haven't given up all hope and I never will. I believe that God will save us, and I can tell that I will survive. I am sure of it. And you need to be too.” I was quiet after that. I thought about what she had been through, and yet she wasn't as hopeless as I had ever been. Maybe there is some way to survive by having hope that we will get through this. Maybe...
         “Thanks. I feel a little better now. I'll try to stay positive.” Then I explained what had happened to me, and I could tell she felt bad for me.
         “Well, that stinks. I feel so bad for you.” We whispered to eachother until we both fell asleep. It was the best night of sleep I had ever gotten since I was in the concentration camp.

***

Even though every day was a struggle, it was getting easier with Sally there to help me stay positive. Whenever I would lose hope, she would be there to help me again and again. We became really good friends, and she was the inspiring person for all of us in the barracks. Even when we were literally digging the graves for people that were dying, we managed to keep our hopes up. Even when we had to march from the place we were in to other places, we still believed that we would make it. But then, the unthinkable happened.
    It started as an ordinary day. We were going out for our usual head count when I realized that Sally wasn't behind me, as she usually was. I went back to our bunk, and she was still laying there.
    ".... Sally?" There was no answer. I came close and started shaking her. She didn't move. Someone in the barrack started calling me, telling me that we had to go out.
    "No! I will not leave Sally here!"
    "But we have to go!" The woman said grimly. I started to cry.

***

I eventually pulled myself together after the only friend I had in that concentration camp died. I decided that I had to try to live- for her. And I did. In 1945, after we were liberated (I was 18 then) I wasn't sure what to do. I tried finding family members, but there were none left. They were killed, with the other 6 million Jews that were killed during the Holocaust. It was a very devastating time for me- there weren't many people my age around that actually survived the Holocaust because about 1.5 million children were killed. I decided that I never wanted to be in Poland again, so I decided to come to America. There I met someone, and we got married and had children. I started over again, which was something I never thought I would be able to do. Being a survivor is more than just being alive after the Holocaust. Being a surviver means that you had times of happiness, loss, suffering, sadness, bravery, hope, and especially belief in God.