Shivering, the girl pulls the striped fabric closer to her body.
Her eyes are wide, taking in her surroundings.
She doesn't understand why she's here with all these people dressed the same.
But why are they crying? She sees no reason to cry. They haven't fallen over, or scraped their knee.
She frowns at the big bold men, yelling and shouting, blowing whistles
They all have a patch embroidered on their torsos.
It's different to hers. It's like two steps crossed over, if you like.
But hers isn't. Hers is the star of David, the symbol she has grown up respecting.
Why are the two badges different, when everyone is equal?
The men yell at her and the children to form a line, so they do so.
But the girl's mind isn't on the orders, it's on her mama.
Where is mama? She hasn't seen her in a while.
They said mama was going for shower, but she hasn't come back.
The little girl is now marching among the other children.
Everyone except her is crying, sniffling, tearful.
The little girl doesn't understand- this is all a big adventure, isn't it?
She's excited- she thinks she's going to meet her mama.
Is she?
No.
Her mama died a while ago, gassed.
But why enlighten the little girl, when she is so much better off unkowing?
The little girl smiles, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.
She recieves confused looks from other children, why is she smiling?
She continues to follow the winding line of children up a steep path.
It's little more than a small hill, but it seems like a mountain to her. Where are they going?
Bang. That little girl died a while ago.
She was only six years old
She fell to the floor, her malnourished body hitting the concrete with a thump.
A round hole in her chest, blood seeping out.
She died unknowing
