Holocaust Short Stories

Walking

Hunger was so painful. I could feel it seeping into the very depths of my bones, content to stay there until I could find myself something to sate it. I hadn't eaten in almost three days. I scrounged in the gutters of the streets and begged the Germans for the first time since I arrived here.

It didn't work. They simply kicked me away, sending me skidding into the dirt. I could barely move anymore, let alone work the way they told me to. They harassed me for what seemed to be hours before leaving, muttering about how I was 'useless'. That didn't really matter, I don't mind. I suppose that I am pretty useless here, I just wish they would let me go home.

That was a foolish thought as well, I know that everything's gone, all my family and friends. I missed my sister, and my parents. I can't quite remember how long it's been since we were separated. They dragged us away right before Hanukkah. At least I didn't have to sing, I had the voice of a dying pigeon.

But even so, I still wish that I could've celebrated it with them one last time. What right did these...these, Nazis have over us to take away our holidays, our freedom and happiness?

One of them lumbered over in front of me, his shadow blocking what little sunlight had been shining on me. It had taken me almost an hour to drag my skeleton of a body over to that little patch of sun. I had wanted to feel it on my skin before I died, the sweet touch of light that was so very rare and precious now.

I did not want to die with a stinking Nazi looming over my body.

"Get up," he said. His English was bad, his accent making it worse. He could've said it in German and I still would've know what he meant. I looked up at him, my neck aching as I did so. When my gaze remained impassive and I said nothing, he repeated his harsh words again before roughly kicking me. I cried out at the pain, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Standing before me was one of the men taking away my right to be with my family and to sing with them on Hanukkah. With a low groan, I managed to brace my skinny arm against the brick wall I had been leaning up against. Using what strength I had left, I dragged my body upwards into a standing position and began to walk past him.

I opened my mouth a let out a string of noise. At first, it didn't make much sense, but I was able to form words after a moment of making nothing but incoherent babble. I began softly, singing the song my sister loved the most. My mother used to sing it to us before we went to bed when we were little.

I had forgotten most of the words, so I simply repeated the ones I knew. I walked down the paths of the Concentration camp, my voice dragging behind me. It cracked and stopped at times, but I continued to sing out the desperate words. Nazis followed me at a walking pace, easily catching up to the lumbering gait of my legs, which had been broken too many times. I sang louder, relishing the looks of the other Jews staring at me as the soldiers grasped my arms, forcing me onto my knees.

When I continued to sing, one stepped in front of me, his gun pointed at my forehead. A wave of shock passed through my body before washing away again like waves upon a beach. What did it matter? I wanted to sing, so I would sing.

I continued to serenade. Something inside of the gun made a noise, but I still sang. I smiled suddenly, feeling a small patch of sunlight on my scarred, burned skin. It felt sweet, like honey...

I missed honey...

The words poured out of my mouth even as the bullet exited the gun.