April 12, 1951
"Sarah, wake up! Bagels are on the table!"
"I'm up, I'm up!" I reply to my mom, not mentioning how this is our third morning in a row only eating bagels. It's not that we're poor, but we're not exactly rich. Due to our Jewish status, it's kind of hard to find a well paying job. But I don't mind that, as long as I have my whole family, which not everyone in my school has, I'm happy.
"Sarah, on your way, wake up your brother."
"Okay mom." I love that woman, but she can be lazy sometimes, which kind of helps the bagel situation, since they're easy to make. However, it's not like she doesn't pull her own weight, she has a job as a store manager; since she is half German she was able to get a job.
But my dad is another story. He is full Jewish, so he is working in a tank factory for
minimal wage. The only reason he has that job is because the owner of the factory is a friend of mom's. Thank the Tetragrammaton for that, because if he didn't have that job, he would probably get killed, like most of the kids in my kehilah.
I feel so bad for those people who lost their mom, or dad, or both due to Hitler and his Nazi followers. My brother, Jules, and I don't leave the house because of them. Although, Jules is too young to know what's really going on. He just knows that bad people are hurting our friends.
"Jules, wake up" I say softly with a gentle shove, knowing the slightest touch will wake him up. Ever since the Nazis started killing our people, Jules has been getting nightmares, screaming in the middle night, getting little to no sleep, and turned into a light sleeper. Poor kid, no child should have to live like that. He's only eleven.
Like I predicted, he woke up. That is, if he wasn't already awake.
At first, he jumped, and had wide eyes and a scared face, but when he realized it was just me, he calmed and said "oh, good morning Sarah," with a smile, that I know is a fake one.
"Good Morning Jules, did you get any sleep last night?" I ask, knowing he didn't by the bags under his eyes.
"Not really, I had that dream again." He said dream like it was a live monster, which it kind of is, since it tears at him like a real monster. But I don't blame him, I would hate a dream that is dark, and the only thing you can see is blood, death, and hate.
