*****Takes place once Schmuel and Bruno are in the Gas Room*****
I looked around, where were we? We were in some room, with metal walls, and a hole at the top. I could faintly see people wearing strange masks. How odd.
I quickly grabbed Bruno's hand, I don't think I could get through this without him. I was just so confused, Bruno thought we were under here for protection from the rain, but I thought this was a hospital.
After all, wasn't this here Grandmother and Grandfather went?
I could faintly hear Bruno say something to me. It sounded like, "Schmuel, you're my best friend in the whole world."
My heart took a leap at that. I thought of all the times we spent together, when we first met, when he tossed a ball over the fence, and I panicked, when I was cleaning the glasses, and he offered me cakes. One memory stood out. When he offered to help me find Father.
He wasn't jewish, he wasn't a "filthy jew." He had a perfect life, he didn't have to help me.
He didn't want to help me. At least, that's what I thought, but maybe...just maybe, he did want to help me. Not because he was tricking me. Not because he liked my clothes, or the so-called "game" I was playing. Maybe it was because I was his friend.
I never had a friend. Everyone thought I was queer, different. All because of my religion. My heritage.
And this boy, this nazi's child, was my friend. Because he wanted to be.
I wanted to throw my arms around him, and sob. But I had to tell him what he was to me.
"And you-" But it was too late. A weird green mist came from the hole, and it closed up.
I started to cough. To choke. To gasp for air. Gasping for the breath that I needed.
It never came. I finished my thought in head with the last concious breath I had.
And you, Bruno, are my best friend in the world. My brother.
RIP to all the Jewish people out there who died in the Holocaust. May they be enjoying life in heaven, and may the nazis be suffering in the other place. Just like the Jews did when they were alive.