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Hanna Nowak

 My hands frantically scan the contents of the old dairy trying to find out more about this Polish girl. I find an entry wrote on January 20th, 1940. It described her life before being held captive in a nazi camp. She wrote about Hanukkah which she spent with her family and the chocolate they gave her for her birthday. Hanna seemed to be a humble girl who was kind-hearted. She was very grateful for her family and for her favourite chocolate she received. Her family ran a local shop in the village called "u Nowakow". The shop sold all sorts of everyday items from homemade bread to jam. Hanna enjoyed helping her parents run the shop after school and on the weekends.

I flick through the next couple of pages to find them empty. The last entry was February 2nd, 1940. Must've been the day she was captured, I thought to myself. It started with a "Dear diary" and a sudden stop as if her pen was forcefully taken off her. I close the diary and take it with me to a nearby available computer to research more about Hanna Nowak. Surprisingly, when I searched 'Hanna Nowak 1940" only one result showed up on the computer screen titled ' Łódź ghetto". The page was filled with names that belonged to a Polish Jewish ghetto held in Lodz. Further down, I saw Hanna's name along with the date she left the ghetto ( 19.03.1940).

That was strange. There was no other information about Hanna as if she didn't exist.

My hands rub my eyes tiredly. I look down at the computer clock.

3 AM. Oh my god! How long have I spent at the library? All this time reading and researching made the time fly.

***

A loud knock made the door vibrate. öffne die Tür! Open the door! Suddenly, a group of SS officers barge through the door yelling commands we don't understand.

The other 20 girls in my ghetto shake in fear, terrified for what will happen next. Gunshots fly sending panic everywhere. Geh raus! Get out! The SS officers hurdle us up like sheep out of the ghetto onto the freezing street of Lodz. The frozen air makes us breathe out smoke. We stand shivering for a while in only a thin and uncomfortable rag. The children run around us while we are made to line up to enter the carriage for cattle. We are then separated into two lines to enter the animal transport. I tried to calm myself as panic flowed inside me. First in line. Brown, rusty door open to show a decaying wooden compartment where we will be forced to stay inside. It looked like it could only fit 60 people maximum. However, I knew that this journey would not be comfortable and spacious. Crowds of women and children are being forced into the carriage, pushing me inside the corner of the carriage. I sat on the damp floor and cupped my head in my hands. This was going to be a long journey...

***