You ask my name. I don’t recall it. I had a name once…. I remember my mother calling it with that soft flowery voice of hers. I know my number; 14864. So I guess that’s my name. I remember love… but that is a very faint memory. One that is so light, the breeze could easily carry it away. I cling to it as much as I can, but I know it will get lost as my name has. My memory serves nothing to me, for anything I remember no longer exists. Peace, joy, happiness, humanity, even comfort are non-existent. My head is shaved and my pride is lost. I have nothing of who I was with me. I am just a living shell of the human I once was. My calls for help have been drowned out by the waves of hate. I must go, for another day will start soon and yet again I will serve Hitler until my death.