As long as I remember, I've been able to see them. The scenes. The spirits. I used to think they were normal people, living on their everyday lives, just as all of the rest of us. They kind of just blended into the crowd. Blended together into my view of what reality was. Growing up in a big city, walking past a sketchy alleyway and seeing a few people beating on each other was pretty normal. I learned to ignore it and continue on. Until I was about 11. Everything started to fade after that- my worry free world, my ideal reality... the spirits. Their bodies suddenly didn't appear so solidified anymore, they weren't the normal people I made them out to be. I realized they were transparent, faded, yet they still had the ability to maneuver physical objects. The fear I had towards them was overwhelming. At any moment, they could be upon us, and that scared me more than anything.
My grandma died- two weeks before my twin sister, Natalie, and I's 11th birthday. Those weeks were spent grieving, cuddled together in a corner, eyes red and raw, remembering all her stories she told about her experiences in the holocaust as a young child. Nat always took on a big interest in them. The grim detail of the suffering intrigued her in a way I never understood.
"The hanging podium was set right outside my living quarters in Auschwitz," she would exclaim, "sounds of the pleading screams and the broken sobs of the most recent victims seeped through the cracked brick walls."
I remember her enlightening us on how much she wished she could end her suffering. Climb up on that podium herself, overlooking all of the glassy eyes staring back at her. Every day after, she could hear the horror of that place echoing in the back of her head. "My worst enemy now, is my memory," she would sigh, glancing down at her prisoner number tattooed on the inside of her arm; the black ink embedded deep into the wrinkles of her skin. 0215973.
Now this year, we turned 18. For our birthday, we had a big blowout. Friends and family came to celebrate with us. The bright strobe lights flashed different colors to the music; the speakers were blaring, barely holding up with the bass pumping hard from inside of them. It was astounding how much fun everyone was having, dancing and jumping all around, fists pounding in the air to the steady beat.
When the party ended, we headed home, exhausted. Before we went to bed, mom and dad gave Nat and I each a special gift. As I began to rip open the wrapping paper, my jaw dropped in awe as my gift was revealed. Keys.
"You didn't." I taunted, smile spreading across my face.
"Second garage door." mom laughed as I got up, tripping over my own feet to get out the door, not bothering to slip on shoes on my way out.
When I made my way to the garage, I flipped up the casing to the number pad and began to punch in the garage code. The door seemed to take forever to open, screeching loudly as it rolled up, revealing my new H2 hummer. Barely holding back my screams, I ripped open the door to the driver seat and scooted myself up onto the cold leather.
I saw Nat approaching the back of the car through the rearview mirror, practically skipping in exhilaration, mom and dad following close behind her.
"NICKI! LOOK!" She cheered, shoving a pile of papers toward me. I took off the paper clip binding the papers together, studying them one by one. There was a plane ticket to Poland, and brochures to the Auschwitz concentration camp and tour information. On the back of the pile, there was a note that read:
Natalie,
We know you have taken on a very big interest in the Holocaust since Nana Cindy passed. We thought since you're 18 now, you are responsible enough to take a trip to visit the concentration camp your grandmother spent her time at. Maybe it will bring you some closure considering how hard you took her passing? Hopefully this will be a great experience for you to fill the shoes of your grandma for a few days and give a set scene to all her stories. Happy Birthday, Sweetie! We love you!
I looked up at Natalie who was jumping up and down in excitement, searching my face for a reaction, then over to mom and dad who were leaning against the garage door frame together- smiling. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling. Part of me was nervous, for Nat could see the spirits just as I could and I feared some of the scenes she would witness would be rather upsetting or disturbing for her. The other part was just as thrilled as she was. Next thing I know, she's embracing me in a tight, reassuring hug, whispering into my neck, "I'll be okay, Nick, I'll be okay."
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