Pause Breathing

December 31, 1944
There's a certain kind of unteachable evil in this world, the kind that is caused by one simple act of hatred and is allowed to fester inside of someone, eventually overtaking the human it lives in and consuming their lives. This is the kind of hatred a man named Adolf Hitler has for the Jews, and only he knows where it comes from.
I was born and raised in the rolling hills of southern Poland, where I lived in a large house with my grandparents. I was the spitting image of my mother, with my brown hair and blue eyes, I was always one of the shortest in my class (until recently, finally hitting a growth spurt at fifteen). However, these past few years had been a living nightmare. In January of 1938 my town had been introduced to German soldiers, and while they acted kind at first, all Jews were soon taken. I was sixteen at the time. We had been cramped into a cattle car, stuffed inside a train, and not been allowed the luxuries of a toilet or food for several days. I had finally started to give up hope when we pulled into the concentration camp. I was born as Rachel Bahman, but am now identified as B-19372. Every day here has been a nightmare ever since. I want nothing more than to get out of the evil grasp Auschwitz has on me.
I finished the new entry of my journal, sighing as I hid it under the rock that has been called my bed for almost seven years. Of course, it is no longer only my bed, but the bed of another girl as well. Our barrack is so overcrowded that everyone had two or more girls sharing a mattress with them. I was lucky, as this girl hardly spoke, never got ill, and was so small I'm surprised they let her stay this long. I guess you could call us friends, but it would be a stretch. None of the girls here liked me very much, as I was open about losing faith in the one they call God, despite my Jewish background. I don't understand how they didn't lose faith, most of them have been in this camp just as long or longer than me. Why should I praise a God that has let so much pain and suffering come upon his people?
I stood up, crouching slightly so my head didn't hit the feet hanging off the side of the bed two rows above my own bunk. I reached my hand up and grabbed one of the ankles, tugging slightly at the only person I trust in this camp. My only actual friend in this prison goes by the name Elizabeth, even though we all know it's not her real name.
"Hey B-19372." She said, hopping down after my fourth tug. We addressed each other by our given numbers, mainly as a joke. She looked shaken up, and I instantly knew she'd had a nightmare. Elizabeth was here before I was, one of the first ones to arrive at this cursed camp. She didn't look like others here, with her red hair, green eyes, and willowy figure.
"Hey, shake away the nightmares of this place, we'll keep each other safe." I told her, giving her a small yet tight hug. She sighed and gave me the ghost of a smile, moving her shoulders back and forth, side to side, shaking her entire body. I did the same, starting with my head, then my shoulders, then my right leg, then my left leg. It was a common thing for us to do, almost like a ritual to keep the sadness at bay. "See, I'm telling you it works. Don't you feel better?" When I first introduced the idea of shaking away sadness to her, she thought I was crazy.
"Shut up, but yes." She gave me a teasing glare, smiling as she did so. The rest of the girls started walking towards the exit, a doorway without a door. I must've written for a longer time today, as Elizabeth and I usually had time to chat a little before roll call. We all lined up, shoulder to shoulder, each exactly a foot apart.
When I arrived so many years ago, the first thing I learned was that if the back of a scalp wasn't in your direct line of vision, you were breaking formation. The punishment for breaking formation is (like so many other punishments) a beating, I had learned that the hard way. We were dismissed, and as this was one of the rare days our Kommando had off, were all able to do practically whatever we wanted.
"Are we going to do the routine patrol?" Elizabeth had walked towards me almost immediately after we were dismissed, rushing the words out of her mouth like a waterfall. Every day we had off, Elizabeth and I would walk around the camp in search of leftover food, dividing what we found to ration until the next day off. Last time, however, there was an air raid, and we were unable to search the grounds. We both needed the extra nutrients, so I agreed to it. We spent the rest of the day walking and talking with each-other, then dividing the extra bread we found (a whole ten pieces!), and attempting to hide the morsels we found. Then we were summoned to roll call, and the final bell of the day dismissed us to our barracks.
It has been almost a month since our last day off, and I have heard the rumors about the camp soon being reached by the Russians, but I have dismissed all of that nonsense. However, it has never seemed more real than right now. Elizabeth and I had just finished cleaning the barracks, and to be honest it was quite amusing. Everyone was dressed in several layers, with clothes falling off some people. Combine that and their frantic rushing around to hide their secret objects, it was quite the show. The good thing about wearing so many layers was that you could stuff objects under your clothes without anyone knowing the difference, so I was able to keep my journal and pencils. We were told to gather in the Appelplatz, as we would all soon be leaving camp.
At six o'clock the bell rang, beginning our march to certain death. All around me, people were yelling to fall in, and to do it fast. Everyone soon stood in ranks. Block by block. There was an unmistakable darkness called night that seeped through every crack in the ground, touching every face in the crowd. Suddenly, there was a rude visitor of light. They had turned the searchlights on. Hundreds of SS appeared in the shadows, accompanied by their monstrous dogs. I had barely noticed the snow before now, but it was blindingly reflecting the searchlights. The gates of the camp opened, darkness consuming the outside in a confusing swirl. My block was one of the first, so we had the privilege of marching before the others. Our marching soon transformed into jogging, which then became running.
An icy wind ripped at our faces, prickling our skin down to the bones. All around me, shells of human beings were dropping to the ground, either from exhaustion or bullet wounds. If we slowed, we got shot and trampled by our fellow inmates. I had a piece of bread in my pocket, and I would nibble on it every now and then, just enough to keep myself from passing out. I was slowing, the fatigue finally overcoming my adrenaline.
I looked around, knowing that if I slowed at all I would be killed. My gaze landed on Elizabeth, and I started to tear up. Elizabeth was the only person I had left, as my grandparents were taken from me as soon as we arrived in this nightmare. The cold was ripping at my body, tearing me down even more, and I knew it was going to be over soon. I looked down, seeing the skin hang off my bones. It was a wonder I had made it this far, I was so skinny. It seemed to me that the only thing keeping me alive was my will to live. It was a shame that will was leaving me, the fight for life finally being forfeited.
I started thinking of how this all started, how we welcomed the german soldiers into our town. We fed and sheltered our own assassins for weeks. I made a strange sound, one I haven't heard from myself in seven years, a laugh. People around me were staring, but I didn't care. I allowed this foreign sound envelop my soul, taking my heart with it. I finally quieted, leaving the happiness in the ditch.
Elizabeth grabbed my hand, and I was overwhelmed by guilt. She would be alone, forced to live in these horrible conditions until either she died or was freed. I knew I had to stop soon, so I took my chance to say a final farewell.
"Goodbye, Liz. Maybe we'll meet again in another life."
"Don't do it, Rachel. Please." Elizabeth pleaded to me with sorrowful eyes, tears spilling out.
"Be strong for me." I cried as soon as the whispered words left my mouth, and, releasing her hand, stopped running. I heard a loud bang, a small flash of light, and then I felt nothing. My entire existence had been ended in a split second.