My name is Gh. That's short for 537582.Gh. Don't mock, I didn't choose it. In fact my own mother didn't choose it, nor my father, or any other relatives or friends. The officials did. It's the law. Dad told me that Mum had asked an official if her initials could be part of my name. G.H. That's as much as I have ever got out of Dad about Mum. Gwenda Hillary? Genelle Hagan? Whatever her name is, I'm sure it suits.
People say you can't remember your babyhood, but I can. I remember someone shrieking as if in terrible pain, although don't do that, the guards will hit or shoot you. And then I remember rough hands pick me up and wrap me in scratchy clothes. The rough hands handed me over to even more rough hands but this time the mean hands prodded and poked me. Hard. I remember being infuriated and shrieking at the top of my lungs, only to be smacked for it. I continued to be handed over to rough hands until I seemed to believe there was no one in this world with kind hands ever, when I was placed into a whole arm full of kindness and gentleness. I opened my eyes and saw a smiling face looking at me. Mum. I tried to smile like my Mum did, but instead I failed and made myself sick over her old, faded-green shawl. I looked up at my Mum. She was laughing.
"Don't worry my sweetie pie, if you try do new things now, you won't be able to do them later."
I don't remember much after that, apart from falling asleep in my Mother's kind arms and waking up in a jolt. Not in my Mother's arms.
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I was ready to go. I looked at my father's cool, brown eyes. I knew what was coming. "Gh. I love you but be careful today. It's getting cold my daughter. And... And, ..." Dad trailed off.
I knew what dad meant. "Gh. I love you but be careful today. It's getting cold my daughter. And... And, keep yours eyes down, don't talk to anyone but soldiers if you are asked. At 'punishment time', try to hide. Come home to me tonight." Dad used to tell me those exact words everyday but things had recently gotten worse here. More and more prisoners were coming into the camp. New soldiers and guards had come in, with new rules and harsher punishments. Girls like me had to go to work all day, sewing and mending the soldiers uniforms for hours on end. Although every day, at 4 in the afternoon, 'punishment time' was played out. First, a few soldiers would storm in and snatch away a few girls. I never knew what happened to them because I never saw them again. After that, the soldiers would line us up. We would have to stand with our arms outstretched with a heavy book. The soldiers would sneer and slap us, trying to make us flinch. If we did, they would shoot. Although my arms were strong, and I could handle it.
Punishment time would pretty much end up there, if it was a good day. On a bad day, the soldiers would come up with another thing that was horrible, just an extra thought.
I had been run through those words so many times, I had memorized it off by heart. "I love you Pa-pa" I said with a nod. I turned on my heels and walked out. Ever since Mum...left, Dad had been on edge.
The cold late Autumn day was chilli. My worn in, old shoes squeaked on the early snow that covered the ground. All around me, little birds where singing their songs and the dying leaves gave their last rustle before falling slowly to the hard ground. I hummed to myself, which actually was against the regulations of the camp. No smiling, no singing, no dancing, no playing. I looked up, at the old building that had come into view. 'The sewing house'. Other girls, from different parts of the camp, were arriving too.
"Hello Gh." A familiar voice said. I turned around.
"Hello Jaan." A smile crept onto my face. Which was also against the regulations.My best friend was lucky. Because I had been put here in the camp before her, her name was longer. I liked the sound of Jaan. It was beautiful, not like Gh. I turned back around again, the old, wooden building luming over me.
