Poisoned This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

April 16, 2010
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Liberation they said as they walked through the aftermath, the evidence of our dual existence, our obvious conflict. It was difficult to witness their tender faces painted noble and uniforms of immortal heroism. They gathered some and set others aside and called us liberated.

And how am I liberated? While darkness still haunts my mind’s eye. The air I breathe, the world as I see, and everything in it is tainted with humanity’s ignorance to our plight, our suffering. They took us up in the masses, outwardly gregarious yet still coarse. We tromped through our dead, fallen kin and neighbor. And as we moved, I tried to rectify the last decade of my existence.

I closed my eyes against the outside watched the nightmares unfold. I remembered all I had seen. The distorted images of children face down in streets, of bodies broken and battered, of the smell and taste of flesh in the wind. The SS screamed in my head that I was a demon, my blood was a blemish in the sight of my own country. My friends and family were pushed together in cramped complexes, begging for water, food, and mercy. I signed a card on a train for my family of forced reassurance.

Would it be difficult to breathe in society? I could be like so many others, dogmatic in disbelief, denying such scrupulous evidence for false satisfaction. I might stand in the crowds and portray the illusion of gross disgust and deep sympathies. I could pretend to forget. But in doing so, would I not be what the nations had acclaimed for years?

Would I not be a poison?

Would I not be a poison to my fallen, a poison to the truth and the very history of man? Would I not be the virus of plaguing ignorance? The very thing I despised in this world. I would only become the representation of the uniforms’ words.

I looked into the sky and saw the ash that shaded the sunlight. The warmth that once seemed so tenuous, now my spirit longed for dried and withered. And still they carried me as a shell of my prior identity and still they screamed that I was liberated. Tenacious soldiers pushed us to our freedom.

My freedom.

As I watched the last of us alive being filed in a most civil fashion, I was reminded that though I was alive, I had already died in this place. The rationalism I had once understood, my observations, the general familiarity I’d loved, now corrupted by the abundance of failing will-power. My training and discipline were now a decaying memory. Insignificant.

I was no longer who I had once been.

I was no longer who I once knew.

I was an empty vessel.

And for the first time in my years of imprisonment and slavery, in my time of fighting to survive, and justify; I felt weak and vulnerable. I felt as though I couldn’t survive, that I would fall and never open my eyes again.

I felt like a poison.

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Bulletproofkid said...
Jul. 9, 2010 at 5:13 pm
AGH!!! I couldn't understand any of the big words. Nice though.
19juliannabet93 said...
May 26, 2010 at 9:31 am
Beautiful.  I loved it
Kandabear replied...
May 26, 2010 at 11:39 am
Thank you so much for the kind feedback
WiseGirl said...
May 24, 2010 at 10:38 am
Excellent. I really like it!
Kandabear replied...
May 26, 2010 at 11:40 am
Thank you so much =)
sunnyhunny This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 23, 2010 at 6:56 pm
okay, I am going to coment on this again.  The first time I read this, I had never read any of your articles before.  I read this again, not recognizing it at first.  I got an increasing sense of deja vu as I read it (hmm wonder why :) )  but nonetheless, this piece still managed to impress me for a second time.  You're a really great writer!
Kandabear replied...
May 26, 2010 at 11:40 am
hahaha. thank you sunnyhunny! :)
Hannah Y. said...
May 21, 2010 at 10:36 pm
My great grand parents left Germany a month before Hitler gained power. Being Jewish i would not have been born if they had not left. Holocaust survivers are my heros. Thank you for recognzing the pain they went through in this pogiant piece. If you are looking for a good book read milkweed. It has to do with the holocaust and a very young boy who survives it . It is amazing!
Kandabear replied...
Jun. 4, 2010 at 2:36 pm
Thanks so much. Im glad i could touch you with my work. i love history and believe it should be realized and respected. im not jewish, but that doesnt mean i wont acknowledge their suffering. good people died that day. God bless them all. And watch over them peacefully. Thanks so much for the kind word.
Amber06 said...
May 20, 2010 at 8:21 am
Girl, you do a wonderful job. You write far beyond your years, keep it up and use this gift God has gave you for his Glory! God Bless
Kandabear replied...
May 20, 2010 at 10:38 pm
Ah! Thank you Amber06 =) God has blessed me. Thank you very much.
Abbey F said...
May 17, 2010 at 3:44 pm
you are a fantastic writer! keep it up! you really have a marvelous gift! your wording is great!
Kandabear replied...
May 20, 2010 at 7:33 am
Thanks for the comment =)
Kandabear replied...
May 20, 2010 at 7:34 am
pretty sure you've already left me a message/comment before though hahaha
Abbey F replied...
May 20, 2010 at 7:37 am
did I? I'm sorry lol ;)
Kandabear replied...
May 20, 2010 at 7:46 am
haha. Its cool. :) Thanks though ahahah
Collinsh said...
May 17, 2010 at 8:38 am
Hey great job here. Really breath taking and emotional. I love it.
Kandabear replied...
May 17, 2010 at 10:24 am
Thank you so much =)
Abbey F. said...
May 16, 2010 at 8:52 am
Wow! Superb! I love you girl! Great job!
Kandabear replied...
May 17, 2010 at 10:24 am
Thank you Abbey. That's nice feedback. =)
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