Death Flower (Holocaust)

Chapter 1

My name is Hadara Herzl. I was born December 31st, 1929, the first child to Arava and Jozsef Herzl. When I was 29 months old, my mom gave birth to my first sibling, a girl she named Aphra. Months before my fifth birthday, my mom had my second sister whom she named Tchiya. Then, when I was seven and a half, my mom had my baby brother, whom she named Geva. She and my dad were pretty proud of their happy little family, and they loved me and my siblings a lot.
Every day I woke up at 7 am to help my mother with breakfast. I'd wake my siblings up, eat breakfast, then go to school with my brother and sisters. When we got home, we'd study for a bit before helping mother with dinner. We'd all eat, and then go to bed.
We lived in a simple one story, three bedroom house. Mom and dad shared a room, Aphra and I shared a room, and Tchiya shared a room with Geva.
My mother was quite pretty, and looked very young. She had thick blonde hair and dark brown, almost black eyes, and a skinny yet strong build. She was taller than many women, but she wasn't too tall. She had a strict face and a sharp tongue, and her eyes were so cold they could pierce even the stoniest of faces.
My father was the opposite. He had neat dark brown hair and sad amber eyes, and he always looked saddened about something. He was about average height, maybe a little bit taller. He was very formal and very kind, and rarely had a harsh word to say about anybody.
I was described as being extremely beautiful. I was thin, with wavy dark brown hair that fell onto my shoulders and deep, dark brown eyes that you could get lost in. My arms were thin yet firm, and I had some muscle. I could be very intimidating when I wanted to.
My sister Aphra looked a lot like my mother. She had wavy blonde hair and dark brown eyes, a skinny yet strong build, and piercing eyes. Despite this, Aphra easily cracked under pressure, and wasn't that good at hard labor, which was something that my father worked to help her overcome.
My sister Tchiya was a happy girl. She looked like me, with the same hair and eyes and build. Despite her cheerfulness, she, like our father, could look very saddened at times. She was extremely bright, and wanted to write books or become a teacher.
My brother Geva was the youngest, and the most lovable. Many who laid eyes on him would become enamored with his adorableness. He had our father's hair and eyes and looked just like a miniature copy of our father. Geva inherited our father's naturally sad face, yet he smiled so much that you couldn't even tell.
My life was pretty decent. I was studying in hopes of becoming a teacher. I was attracting many potential suitors, but I wasn't interested in any of them. My sister Aphra, however, always teased me about the suitors, telling me to either choose one for me or choose one for her.
In 1939, I returned from school one day to see my mother crying. My mother never cried. She claimed that her cousin Lena had been shot and killed by the Gestapo. Mother was sobbing so much that she couldn't fix dinner, and Father and I made dinner that night. For the rest of the week, Mother's face was stony and she was cold towards everyone, never saying a word. We knew the Germans were waging a war with the Jews in many other European countries, such as Germany, Poland, and France. We just never imagined they'd come after Hungary.
We lived in a town named Baja, near the border between Hungary and Serbia, not too far from a major city called Szekszard, where our mother was from. Our father was from Budapest, and they had met in 1925. They quickly fell in love, and married in early 1929, and moved to Baja, and had me later that year. My mother had a younger sister whom she hadn't heard from since 1937, and our father had no siblings.
In 1940, our mother's mother contacted her, but our mother never told us what that was about. She just said it pertained to something that happened as a result of the war. Many Jewish families fled Hungary from 1939 to 1942, many of them leaving for England, America, or Canada. My family however never imagined the Nazis would touch Hungary, and thus we stayed and never fled. My mother often said that Hungary was allied with Germany, and thus the Nazis would most likely never invade nor harm us. This thought kept my siblings and I upbeat during these times of war. We heard news of mass deportations of Jews from their homes to camps in Poland, but we heard conflicting rumors of what happened to them afterwards. We also heard of efforts by non-Jewish citizens in other countries to hide Jews. Despite whatever we heard, our mother kept us upbeat by assuring us that Hungary would be left untouched, and our father kept us busy with chores to keep our minds off of the war. Many of my friends had fled Hungary by late 1943 out of fear of a German invasion, yet my family stayed behind. I busied myself with my studies during these times, and during the afternoons, I would tutor my siblings.
In 1942, I said goodbye to my best friend Hanna as she left for England with her parents and three younger brothers. In late 1942, my father heard news that his father had been shot by the gestapo while visiting Austria. Father was devasted, and for five days, my siblings and I had to do all the chores, as my father was too depressed to work. In 1943, we heard that our cousin Ewa had been deported to a camp. And then, in 1944, everything changed.

This story will be ten chapters long. Please be aware that this story will be much more sad and gruesome than any of my other Holocaust stories. I will mention death, beatings, sexual assault, and even briefly mention rape. Many characters will die in this story, so please be aware of that as you read. I hope to finish this story by November.
Anyways, enjoy the story.