This is dedicated to all the Jews who suffered during the terrible era of the holocaust.
Peace to all who suffered (peace to all who suffered)
I am a death-eater serving as a guard in a concentration camp. Voldemort uses too much energy in using the curses, so he resorted to following the holocaust in the muggle world. After all, he says he wishes a more cruel death than a simple curse. The list goes from baking the people in a huge oven, to putting them in a huge chamber where he kills them off with a special gas. They do not die at once, they, run around madly for a while, suffering from the effects of the gas. Everyday I will see masses of people streaming in, like herds of cattle, little knowing that they will never come out again.
We gas millions of people a day, and there is a doctor in this compound who performs experiments on some of the captives. Normally, none will survive. Most, healthy or not, and regardless of their age are sent to the factory plants where the conditions are said to be horrible. the stench of the dead, unburied bodies and rotting corpses fill the air with a putrid stink, adding to the already miserable atmosphere.
At first, when I joined the group of Death-Eaters, I was proud to be a member and listened intently to Voldemort. None, I am sure, saluted him more loudly or bore the 'cause' with more pride than I. I believed all Voldemort said was true and began hating the wizards who were fighting against Voldemort intensely. I actively burned down houses with wizard families inside and went around killing wizards and witches. I signed up enthusiastically for this job as a guard and at first rejoiced for each wizard fallen.
Then later, a doubt crept into my heart, bringing a chill. The atrocity of seeing dead bodies, lying where they had fallen, and innocent people being killed struck me in a nauseating wave. I began to wonder if all Voldemort said was true. After a few dreamless, restless nights, I finally admitted to myself what I had been afraid to admit , even to myself. Voldemort had been using us as a means to rise to his power.
It is too late now I fear, to repent. Faces of dying people, of mother's dying protecting their child in their arms, and people's screams go on and on in my head. I look at the clouds and see bodies flopping lifelessly, a small noise sounds to me as a faraway scream. Stare at the ground you see the blood of innocent people flowing, flowing. My body is stained red by the blood.
When I was a young child, I would sing twinkle twinkle little star
how I wonder what you are
up above the world so high
like a diamond in the sky
twinkle twinkle little star
how I wonder what you are
The stars twinkle no more.
All I can do is hope and say a prayer for them who suffer.