My Name Is Naomi

Chapter Thirteen

Present Day, 1941

Ayala held the old woman's hand, waiting patiently in line with the other Jewish men, women, and children.  They were separating the men from the women and children and sending them off into different parts of the camp. Ayala wasn't sure if she had heard the name of the camp correctly, but she thought maybe she had heard the word Dachau. 

Ayala was tugged to the side roughly by one of the soldiers and her hand slipped from the older woman's. She cried out, reaching for her. She was the last person she knew. She didn't want her to go away. She didn't even know the woman's name. 

A soldier shoved Ayala to the ground as they led the older woman to a line in front of one of the giant, brick buildings. Ayala gapped at the large building. It towered above them, angrily spouting its smoke and heat into the air. Screams from the building reached her ears, covering her in a blanket of pain and agony. Ayala felt a tear roll down her cheek as a woman pulled her to her feet and tugged on her arm.

"We have to keep moving." The woman said, but Ayala wasn't processing any of it. "We have to keep marching, or else they are going to kill you."

Ayala felt her head nod in agreement and her feet move as the woman tugged her along. It felt like she was living in a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. Her vision was hazy and her limbs felt frozen.  If only she could have a short rest, then she would feel better. But as soon as she tried to sit down, she could feel herself being tugged back up to her feet and shoved forward.  It felt like they had tromped through the snow for hours when the soldiers finally told them they could stop.

Ayala collapsed into the cold snow, her limbs numb and lifeless.  She stared at the young girl resting beside her. The exhaustion in the girl's eyes mirrored her own.  Ayala heard the sound of a shrill whistle pierce the air.  It was time to move again. Somehow, she found a whisper of energy left in her to pull herself to her nearly frozen, frostbite covered feet. She dusted the cold snow off of her thin nightgown and pants, and began the death march again.

Copyright ©2017 by Rosanna Parker

All Rights Reserved

Hey Wattpadders! Please remember to vote and comment! I know it's a short chapter, but I'm currently having writers block and I'm struggling to get anything good down. I promise the next few chapters will improve!