Sincerely, Marketa - A Story of the Holocaust

Chapter Four: Vienna, Austria - Summer, 1975

A hidden doorway.  And not only that, she had found the entrance to a hidden room.  It was like a large and menacing dark mouth about to swallow her whole.

"No way..."  She needed a flashlight.  Before proceeding any further, she hurried back downstairs, all thoughts of unpacking gone and forgotten. She was wide awake now.

She quickly retrieved said flashlight and a few minutes later stood in the exact same spot before the doorway. The beam of light coming from her flashlight broke apart the darkness of the entranceway, if that's what you could call it.  She stepped inside the narrow opening, having to duck to avoid hitting her head, and she wasn't even that tall.  The room which she entered was much less a room and more a small, dark nook, although it looked like at one time there had been some electricity up here.  Off to one side was a dusty table surrounded by four chairs, one of which was knocked over, and off to the other side there sat an old cot made up like a bed, all small. No, it wasn't even big enough to call a room.

Beside the cot-bed was a simple table and lamp, and a chest sat at the foot of it. Although it was not large, it took up most of the 'bedroom' space. Altogether, the meager furniture took up most of the nook, leaving it very cramped.

Heather walked over and knelt before the small trunk, shining her flashlight down upon the latches.  They were a bit sticky but she managed to get them open, coughing and gagging when she did, a cloud of dust erupting in her face.  She fanned it away with her hand and blinked it from her eyes before turning her attention back to the chest. It was wide and deep, so despite its small size it appeared that it could hold a lot.  It did not, however.  In fact, at present, it held very little: a stack of yellowed newspapers dating back to the 1930s and '40s, and a candelabra — she had seen one before and knew that it had a special name, she just couldn't remember at the moment.   That was it, that was all.  The chest held nothing else.

          She closed the lid and stood, brushing the dust from the knees of her jeans.  She continued to shine her flashlight around the small space, noticing for the first time the small staircase by the back wall, again, if you could even call it a staircase.  She began to climb the four steps, the aged wood groaning and bending beneath the weight of her feet, just like the attic staircase.  When she reached the top, she found that these few steps led to a small loft. No wonder the ceiling was so low here.  She ducked further, for once not cursing her smaller stature, as she was now right beneath the peaked roof of the house, so the ceiling was slanted and an easy target for bumping your head.  Another cot sat against the wall, this one even smaller, a chest sitting at the foot of it as well, with a small table sitting off to the side, which, in the cramped space, was more right next to the bed.  That was all the small space could hold.

Heather was now confused and curious all at once.  Her still sleep-muddled brain didn't help trying to figure this out.  Maybe the people who had lived in the house before had this extra room and loft as guest rooms, but why up in the attic? There was space in the rest of the house.  Perhaps it was for extra storage; that could explain the furniture, but not why it was arranged to look like someone had stayed here.  A children's playroom? That didn't seem so likely either. So what could it be then?

It also didn't answer the biggest question of all: why would it be hidden in the first place? Behind a mirror-turned-door?  Clear, deliberate efforts had been made to make it appear hidden, but why?

            It didn't take her long to discover that the 'upstairs' part of this hidden room had more to offer in ways of quenching her curiosity.  She followed the flashlight beam to the chest at the foot of the bed.  Unlike the first chest, this one had been left open, meaning all the contents were covered in a thick blanket of dust — just like everything else here.  Peering inside this chest, she found that it held much more than the first.  Inside there were a few dolls all with curled hair and pretty embroidered dresses, a few pieces of small girls' clothing, a sketchbook and pencil, and two identical gold necklaces with a star charm.  These objects had belonged to a young girl by the looks of it.  She also found a pile of books, a piece of sewing, two photo albums, and some other small trinkets.