Auschwitz Death Camp

Chapter 04

"Okay you worthless pieces of trash, eat quickly. Once your finished, you will be lead to your sleeping quarters for the night. Sleep tight. You've got a long day of work tomorrow" the officer said as soon as we entered the canteen.

The only way to tell it was a canteen was by the words written above the door.

It was a relatively large room, with long rowed benches spread throughout the room.

Looking between the benches I saw a long line and assumed that was where I should be. Looking ahead towards the front of the line, I could only hope the food was not something horrid.

When I make it to the officer handing out food. I couldn't help but frown at the small chunk of bread in his hand and little cup of rice in the other.

"Eat fast, the water's in the corner." I hurried towards an empty spot on one of the hard looking benches. I plop down and groan, the bench is as hard and cold as I expected.

At least the food looks edible.

I sigh and start to eat my first meal in this place that I am beginning to think is hell. I feel so lost and alone. My mother and sister are dead.

What do I have now?

My father was killed shortly after Lea was born.

Ah, Papa. I miss him so much. I can still remember mothers face when she was told about his death. It was like the sun being consumed by clouds on a stormy day. A stormy day that would never end.

I remember how she tried to hide her tears from me. Falling apart but still staying so strong and protective.

The official who told us of his death said he was shot. Papa had only just left three weeks earlier to try and get a job. For us.

So we could eat and have what we needed, wanted. And he was killed for it. He was killed for being a father.

NO, I screamed to myself. I wouldn't think about it. I would hold my head high and make it through this.

I know I can. I Have to.

For my family. For my people. For me.

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Just like Officer Simone said as soon as we were done with our food, another Officer leads us into a large room.

Almost the whole floor space is covered with (what looks like) lots of cots. Up and down the room.

"Pick your bed and get to sleep!" With that the officer leaves us. We all look around at each other but no one says a word. I'm so tired and just plain exhausted. I walk to a cot close to the wall and lay down first.

Facing the wall in that moment hairless, tattooed and wearing some strangers clothes, I fall apart.

I just can't seem to hold myself together anymore. Everything in the past two days just pulls and pulls at me until there's nothing left.

I let myself cry until my body physically and mentally can't handle it anymore and just shuts down. I don't care what the other girls think. Somewhere past this horrible wave of grief and pain I think I can hear the sounds of them doing the same.

All of us. We are in this together. And we are all utterly alone.

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"Everyone up, time for work!" Officer Simone seemed to shout at the top of her lungs.

I climbed off of the cold cot and walk behind the line of girls that have already began to file. We are all pictures of strong, brave women, last nights meltdown forgotten and tucked away for our eyes only.

We are escorted outside where the sun has yet to rise.

The young soilder that I had seen back at home and again at my arrival went down the line handing us each a shovel.

He finally reaches me, I try to avoid his gaze. But for some reason I can't resist it. I look up into his eyes. I'm struck with how beautiful his eyes are alone. But I'm even more stunned by the deep haunting sadness in them.

He thrusts the shovel into my hands momentarily touching them. We both jump back from the slight touch.

My fingers are tingling with sparks of something I have never felt before.

"What was that?" I couldn't help but whisper aloud to myself.

"I don't know and I don't wanna know." He replies with a smooth, harsh voice, before swiftly disappearing back into the building.

I let my eyes follow after him. I honestly have no idea what to think of him as we are commanded to start shoveling rock.

The memory of his cold sad eyes meeting mine haunts me as I worked.

Why is he so sad? Why did he touch me?

Did he feel the same tingle I did? No, there was no way.

I am Jewish that is all there was to it.

It doesn't matter what I feel or think.

So why do my thoughts keep going back to him?

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