The Final Letter

May 17, 2017
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Dear my most beloved sister,
I sat in a crowded room with about ten other and fifteen children not including my four kids. Abraham, my eleven year old son, squirmed as if someone was tickling him. I grabbed his arm for him to keep still and he stopped. I heard the sweet sound of a little bell from upstairs that meant we were safe. The Nazi soldiers had moved onto another house. My little girl, Ester, ran into my arms with tears streaming down her face. She looked at me with her big brown eyes drained of the innocence and laughter that once occupied them. Her smile was now broken and she was no longer my little girl.After all she had been through, you would think she was fourteen years old when she was truly only eight. There was no fear in her eyes, but I knew good and well that fear had overtaken her heart that is why her chest hurt all the time. I shiver at the thought of my children being dead whether by pistol or by heart attack. The door to the hidden wall opens but it isn’t Ms. Krause. Those Nazis been real sneaky with their methods of attack. They knew if they had made a ruckus that we would have ran, but they were quiet and sneaky. They dragged us out roughly and that is where we found Ms. Krause bleeding dead on the floor. I cried but I was shut up by an officer. This is my last letter. I am on my way to Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland. The soldiers keep laughing like they know something we don’t but soon I realize we were heading to one of those killing camps. I hadn’t heard much about them but I knew that is where they took the Jews. I am sorry I must end this letter so soon but as soon as we got to the camp… oh I don’t think I can say what they did to those poor children. And all the bodies dead in a pile like they were just some trash that needed to be taken out. They treat us like worthless trash and mark us with number like animals. I watch as my poor children are beaten. Abraham cannot stand it. I am worried about him most. He squirms in line and will not sit still. He defies the Nazis, but I cannot blame him. His father and grandfather were killed right in front of him by men wearing the same uniforms as the one beating his siblings. I have helped some escape in the dead of night when the guards are careless and aren’t as alert. You can guess how the women are treated. The soldiers don’t look at us in the way men on the street do. They don’t look at us lustfully, but look disgusted that any man could ever want such a creature. They have about had enough of me, but I have accepted my fate. I have gotten several children  women, and men to safety. The guards are catching on and I smell the gas in my future. I know that is were I am heading next. As I said before I have accepted my fate. Death does not scare me, but if the Nazis win this war, Lord help us all.
Your sister Aliza

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