Remember?

this is my story,
are you listening?
all my friends
were taken away.
everything around me is dark
and it takes my eyes a while to adjust.
such a small area for just 8 People
is very difficult.
everyone is always fighting.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
i fall in love with a person
who i couldn’t stand;
who always says what’s on her mind
and never hesitates to ask a question.
when she writes,
you don’t bother her.
if you do, she’ll look at you like a lion does
when it’s getting ready to attack.
it is funny how being locked up
can change so many things.
mouschi, my cat, seEms to like her too.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
i hate it here.
my church bells have stopped ringing.
maybe that means all hope is gone too.
i miss the outside.
running, playing, jumping in The snow.
i even miss the rain,
dancing on my head, arms, and legs.
i look out the small window in the attic
and can hear the raindrops falling,
taunting me, dripping on the windowsill.
i would like to say i want to go homE,
but i can’t
because sadly,
i am home.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
the kudzu bugs
are invasive.
they are pounding on the doors.
they have found us.
they are aggressive.
they shove the bookcase to the side,
finding our little annex.
they attack my father.
they slap my mother.
we are scaRed,
all 8 of us.
she is crying
and all i want is for them to leave.
leaVe our home.
leave our hiding place.
leave our country.
leave our world!
they take us down the steep stairs
and outside
into the street.
our eyes scorch
from the fluorescent sun.
2 years, 3 months,
living in the darkness,
liVing in what we called home,
living in what we now have to say goodbye to.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
we are on a train
we hAve been for days with so many others.
they treat us like we are cattle
no water, no food, no nothing.
so no,
we are worse than cattle,
so useless to the world.
after what seems like years,
we stop.
we are shaking,
scared of what lies Next.
I am holding my mutter’s hand.
they separate us.
woman on the left,
men on the right.
i don’t know what to do,
so i obey.
i see anne
for the last time.
no time to say goodbye.
no time to wish for more.
i never see either of them again.
we walk.
there is a gate.
the gate reads,
“arbeit macht frei.”
work brings freedom.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
four out of the eight people i’ve sPent the last couple of years with,
gone.
eventually, my father is gassed.
gone.
i have left the man who has kept me alive too.
i’ve gone,
and I can nevEr turn back.
they take us away from our homes,
beat us with stones,
and they break our bones.
wystache.
wake up.

this is my story,
are you listening?
i’m running
running, running, running.
i’m running,
some crawl.
they shoot the ones who falL,
and abuse the ones who don’t.
i’m running.
running, running, running.
i’m running.
i’m done.
i’m gone.
i’m over.
goodbye.
forever.

this is my story,
thank you for liStening.
wystawach.
wake up.

sincerely,
B-9286