LET IT BE KNOWN! THIS * DENOTES A TRANSLATION TO ENGLISH AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE!
Prologue
Germany. 1944.
The little girl's arms had grown quite sore outstretched between her mother and father. Her small hands numb and cramping from their white knuckled grips. The stinging rain hid the streams of wet, hot tears poured down her checks as she was half dragged through the thick mud; her feet tripping uselessly over each other in the slippery mess in an attempt to keep up in the packed swarm of towering people. Once her shoes were white and glossy, but now they would forever be caked in the shades of ugly, sorrel muck that covered the ground. Another shove from behind crammed her into the legs of her eldest brothers who had long given up on any kind of complaining. Screams hung in the distant air along with the smell of some kind of burning.
Soaked to the bone she shivered as another volley of chilling water seeped into the heavy, wool coat that had once been a birthday present from the eldest of her five brothers, Ezra. She could remember loving her wool coat with the beautiful, purple flowers on the lapels. For weeks she could only be persuaded to take it off for a bath, and would slip out of bed long after her mother had tucked her in and slip it over her nightgown. However, the little girl had now decided that if she had grown to hate one thing in the past year of confined spaces, whispers, and terrible smells; it was her wool coat and the large yellow star that was now sewn over her beautiful, purple flowers.
It was only as they neared the gates that the screams became piercing, and she only wished she could plug her fingers in her ears so she would not have to hear the terrible wails. For it was only now where they coherent, and she did not like what she heard.
In the amount of time it took her to blink she was hoisted into her father's strong arms, and his eyes large, and frightful looking down at her his salt and pepper hair plastered to his face. Chapped lips met her forehead as she felt the gentle hand of her mother run through her long, russet hair. The wails became her own as she was ripped from their hands and snatched into the familiar freckled arms of her brother, Bertram.
Her parents were gone.
She couldn't see them anymore. Her mother's screams were the only sounds that met her ears. More soldiers shoved them into a line that only lead father away shouting words she didn't care about.
"MUTTI!" she screamed her hoarse throat cracking her voice; sobs racking her chest, "VATI-"
Her screams were muffled as a hand pressed hard against her mouth. All she could think of was getting back to her mother, her father she filled with rage. Her cheeks turned scarlet as she kicked, and screeched and bit down as hard as she could onto the hand that kept her from them. Her mouth filled with the taste of metal, but Bertram only grunted before holder her tighter.
'Sie werden sie wieder sehen,'*** he whispered, grievously into her ear, 'meine schöne schwester, Sie werden sie wieder sehen im Himmel.'****
The little girl then subccumb to silence, for she knew he would never lie, she buried her face into her brother's own pink and yellow star and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her eyes peered over his shoulder she watched her brother Abraham struggle to hold the sleeping form of her baby brother, Elijah, his bad leg all but dragging in the mud. Unbeknownst to her at the time, that would be the last time she would ever see them alive.
And it was after that moment that there came a terrible blur in her memory. All she could bring herself to remember was pain. Pain unlike any she had felt before.
And then she left. She left so very sudden that the death of Auschwitz could not catch her.
* Mom
** Dad
***You will see them again.
**** My beautiful sister, you will see them again in Heaven.
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