5 Minute Reads | Anthology

Summer of '45

By Bella_Malfoy_101

It seemed that the end of the world was near. Disaster. The only word that could possibly describe it. Children running across the streets barefoot and dressed in clothes that barely covered them. Sick or injured, even close to being dead, people were randomly seated on the sides of the road, everyone else trying to avoid them as much as possible. Tanks strategically positioned at almost every turn of the road and the army was strolling in from everywhere. You couldn't find a corner of peace in this mess even if you wanted to. The fact that it was summer didn't help either. The heavy military uniforms were incredibly thick and the men wearing them were sweating from head to toe. The sweat on their hands was making carrying a weapon so difficult that most of them were carrying them across their shoulders. The soles of their shoes were worn away.

They didn't have time to stop at the military center outside the town when they entered due to an unexpected attack. 200 men had been lost. The injured ones were still treated by the ones thankful to have survived. The smell of blood was sickening. A little girl could be seen. She was throwing up and a boy, a bit older than her and taller too, was holding her already dirty hair away from her face. Even though it was revolting, the act of kindness was still perceived as such by passersby. The sound of a gun shot was barely distinguished between the cries of many women and the shouts of even more men. Everyone that had heard it, was already flat on their stomachs. Children with their eyes closed, parents holding their hands over their eyes, everyone expecting the worst. The ones that hadn't already thrown themselves down, followed suit. Silence followed. As it always did. But nothing happened. Thankful, people started getting up cautiously, trying to hear even the slightest noise.

That night, a piece of news bought joy to the faces that had been in sorrow for the past years. Japan had surrendered. That was the title of so many newspapers and of so many posters now present anywhere. Even a lost child that you could've found on the streets could tell you of the news. You just couldn't miss it. A little girl, an orphan, was sitting in front of the once-prestigious now-bombarded governmental hall. She was clutching in her little fragile hands a small piece of paper, that had visibly been cut out from a newspaper too. Tears were flooding her miserable yet beautiful face. She had two blonde plaits, one hanging on each shoulder, that were now messy from how much she had been running these past few days. Her blue piercing eyes were staring intently at the piece of news in from of her. It was so hot, her tears were combining with sweat, creating a wet mess on her cheeks.

"In the Operation Reinhard killing centers, the SS and their auxiliaries had killed an approximate of 1,526,500 Jews." That was the title of the article the little girl, Eva, was holding tightly. Her parents had been taken away from her when she was only 6 but she could remember as clearly as if it had taken place just a day before. The way she had tried to hold onto her mother's hand. The sweat of her hands, she recalled, had been the problem. Her mother's hand was pulled away sharply. One last look into her blue eyes that she had also inherited, and she was gone. Gone along with her father. They were dead now. They wouldn't be coming back. That they would come back had been the thing that had kept Eva going. She was lost now. More tears were running down her face.

...

75 years later, in a modern day classroom, the bell announcing break could be heard. A little girl closed her history book silently as her colleagues started packing away. "World War Two" was written in capital letters on the front of her book. Underneath it, a photo. A photo taken in august 1945 by a famous photographer. A photo of a little girl sitting in front of a bombarded governmental hall, clutching onto a news article.