August 4, 2012
By Tears BRONZE, Le Mars, Iowa
Tears BRONZE, Le Mars, Iowa
3 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Be not afraid of greatness some are born great some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust up on ‘em.

Sitting up quickly, waking up in a cold sweat. Climbing out of bed and starting to walk down the staircase, I heard a loud scream. Paralyzed with fear, seeing a pool of blood start to flow into the hallway. Taking a step off the last stair and running to see what happened, I see my father lying on the floor and a German man standing in the pool of blood. Looking at the German mans face seeing the disgust in his eyes. He looked at us like we were vermin, trash, even diseased. I started to back away slowly, but then the man pointed the gun at me. Closing my eyes tightly and feeling the hot tears running down my face. Hearing a BANG, my eyes shoot open and my body flinches. A pair of big brown eyes not even two inches away, stare deeply into mine. My 14 year old brother had just been shot. His head falls to my feet. The German man was yelling now to search the rest of the house. Odeda was still up stairs! Panic flew over me, I had to get to her first, and so I sprinted up the stairs and found her crying silently in the corner. Grabbing her hand and pulling her along with me, she stops and points her finger at a swaying object in my parent’s room. Odeda then asked me what it was. As I stepped into the room a man grabbed my sister. Not knowing what to do I hold on tight to her. The man had a scar on his arm…like numbers or something and didn’t look a day over sixteen. Forgetting all about the figure in my parent’s room, I looked at him carefully. His hair, a dirty blonde color, his bottom lip has a scar, his eyes the most beautiful shade of green, looking closely at them you could tell he was in pain. A sudden crash had gotten my attention, straining to see what was happening; I spotted my grandmothers golden locket sitting on the little night table near the door. As we passed by the table I reached out and grabbed the locket. In my peripheral vision I saw them outside beating a man. Wanting to tell them to stop, but not being able to find my voice. The man with the scar then grabbed my hand and told me that this was just a procedure they had to do.
Blacking out for most of the train ride in, there were all of these other people…. Families….. on the train with me and my sister. There was a mother and her son sitting across from us. The man who was beaten and his two children were up two seats from us. Being the only fourteen year old… who almost lost her entire family in one night is scary. But knowing Odeda is counting on me. I have to be strong for her and ……myself. Odeda’s head is lying on my shoulder now, hearing her small whimpers is making me die inside. She then looks up at me, her golden brown eyes filled with fear. All of a sudden the train stopped. We all then were forced to exit the train. There was this big building in front of us surrounded with large fences of barbwire. On the gate where you entered there was something written…… it read Arbeit Macht Frei which means work will set you free. Turning to Odeda, and pointing at the sign, saying see we’re safe now. I was wrong. The man and his two children were getting split up his daughter was getting drug by her hair to the woman’s line. I was scared that my sister and I were going to be split up. I grabbed her hand tighter and held my head high trying to not let it look like this was getting to me, more for my sake than for my little sisters. A German man walked over to us next and pulled me by my arm to where a group of men and women were standing. I heard screams coming from up ahead. Just then the man with the scar came up and pulled me out of line dragging me to a different line and slipping a note into my pocket. I look back for my little sister, hearing her piercing scream I start to panic. They had brought her in front of everyone and where whipping her! A German man then yelled, “ Let this be an example to all of you!! ” He then smiled wickedly and swung again. I then heard someone scream stop at the top of their lungs, then realizing it was me. The man with the scar’s eyes got all wide like I just did something wrong. The German man who had hung my mother, who had stabbed my father and shot my brother was now whipping my sister. I thought to myself what the hell is wrong with him. Fury built up in me. I then remembered that my father had always told me to stay armed. I pulled the dagger that was in my father’s chest out of my boot. Running full speed at the man who had killed my family was not a smart idea but I still had to try. There was a guard right next to me, so grabbing the guard’s gun and running full out at the dirty German who killed my family. Raising the gun and firing 3 shots hitting my target every time. I felt something coming over me, standing over the man who had killed my family felt great. Running out the gates with only the locket I took from home the dagger I pulled from my father’s chest and the gun I took from the guard. When I made it out of the horrid place I kept running. I then turn and look at everyone behind me, the guards were still in shock and the rest of the people were just looking around in horror. When I thought I was far enough away I stopped running. Putting the gun in my coat and the dagger back in my boot, sneaking into an old run down building, pulling out the note which read I want to help you . I hear a man’s voice outside, holding my breath I turn the corner with the gun drawn. I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head. The next thing I remember is lying on a table strapped down and hooked to a machine. A German man walked in with a knife. Feeling the sharp pain and the hot blood run down my arm as he found another spot to stab me. He went to my face, the fine tip digging in deep. When he finally pulled it out, I squeezing my eyes shut and staying silent, his hand struck me over and over, he screamed at me to howl with pain, pulling my hair to make me face a window where Odeda stood. Then everything went black.

The author's comments:
It is a fiction story that I wrote on the Holocaust.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer