Simon POV
Things were bad. Very bad. It wasn't enough that they forced my father to retire his medical practice to the Aryans, but now we were hiding in a hole that we created in our wall to evade capture from the German Soldiers.
My family and I were lucky to have even made it this far. Escaping time and time again from being transported to a ghetto, or worse….the concentration camps. This time felt different, though. Like our luck has run out.
My mother shivered next to me in the cramped moldy wall, and she squeezed my hand and smiled when I looked at her. Even now, trying her best to soothe, me as only a mother could.
CRASH
The German Soldiers burst their ways into the house we have been hiding in for the last two weeks. We heard stomping, and padded feet….dogs. They had brought dogs with them this time.
The faces of my family flashed in my mind. My mother and father, who had always provided for us, and taught us everything we knew. My heart surged for them.
My younger fourteen year old twin sisters, Eliza and Zara, who looked at me like I was their hero. Being ten years older, it was easy to fill that role, but now I felt a sudden bought of dread at the thought of what I would have to do to protect them.
And then there was Noah, the youngest. Only seven years old. He shuffled near me now, as he held on to my leg in fear. The dogs had pinpointed our location and had started padding at dresser that blocked the makeshift hole that we made. It was all over.
"Come out!" yelled one of the soldiers. None of us moved. "Before we shoot," he finished in a tone that was indifferent. He didn't care whether we walked out, or if they had to drag us out. My father must have had the same thought, because he pushed the dresser down, and walked out. But not before he gave us a stern look that meant stay.
"I'm here." My father said. The Germans were quiet.
"Aleph Lipman?" One of the German Soldiers asked, incredulously. My father said nothing.
"Surely, you remember me. I am Otto Shafer…you operated on me when I broke my leg a few years ago.." He trailed off.
"I work on so many people," My father answered. "It is hard to keep track of everyone. Especially since it's been a few years since I was allowed to practice." My father finished.
"Where is your family?" Otto asked.
"Taken to the ghettos," My father answered.
The dogs however were able to call his bluff. They started barking again. Noah, my brother was squeezing my leg now in fear. I ruffled his dark brown hair, trying to be reassuring, though all I could hear was the sound of my heart beating in my ears.
"Come out," said an older menacingly voice. "I will not ask again." He finished.
One by one, we all came out of the makeshift hole. First my mother, than myself, followed by Noah, Zara, and Eliza.
"Aaaaah, like roaches," said one of the soldiers. And they all started to laugh, Otto being the loudest of them.
The eldest German Soldier, the one presumably in charge, held his gun and ordered us out the room and into the front lawn. He appraised us, his eyes lingering on our jewelry. Inspecting our dirty, but nice clothes.
He eyes grew wide at Zara. She was the only one in our family who did not share our dark hair and dark hazel eyes. Our Zara could have passed as German. She had the blonde hair and bright blue eyes that many Jewish and German Women were dying to look like.
Though it was obvious that Eliza was her fraternal twin, as they looked alike in every aspect but hair and eye color, Zara had always been treated slightly better…just slightly, as she was still a Jew.
The older German Soldier looked at her lustfully, and my father and I made sure to stand on the outside of family. They may have had guns, but they were not going to physically harm our family, not while we were still alive.
"On the cart" the older soldier ordered.
"Where are you taking us?" My mother asked timidly.
"Auschwitz," He said, nonchalantly. "Now get on."
Before we could follow his order, another woman came into view. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had long blonde hair, and incredibly pale skin.
It hurt to look at her face for too long, because whilst there was beauty there, there was also an unmistakable danger. When she walked, it was almost like she was walking on clouds. Her eyes were pitch black, and she looked agitated at having to be there.
She held a clipboard in her long delicate arms, and she appraised our family. Her eyes lingering on Zara. Her lips slightly curled over lips, and I felt my heart beating louder, if that was even possible. My fear for my younger sister was intense, and I felt fear for this woman more than any of the soldiers present.
Her eyes whipped to my face, almost as if she could hear my heart beating. I froze. Her black eyes were intense. I felt like she was a tiger, and I was a rabbit who ceased all movement, hoping that she would not be able to pinpoint where I was. But she saw me. And I saw her scan me up and down.
I knew that I was handsome. Before all of this mess, I was quite popular in school with the coeds. My dark hair, and hazel eyes sent all the girls in the school across the street into a fit of giggles. They could never quite meet my eyes as I towered over them, and asked them some silly question that had nothing to do with anything.
But now, I wished I was ordinary as this blonde woman bored her menacing black eyes into mine.
"Hello, my name is Ursula," the blonde woman spoke. Her voice was like the wind chimes that blow in the wind. I was confused at how my mind reacted to her voice. I was both drawn to it, but also felt an undeniable sense of danger. "Here are the rules for transportation." She continued.
"You try to run, you die. You try to plot and escape, you die. You resist, you die. Anything you do that slows down transportation to the Auschwitz Camp, you forfeit your life, and the life of your loved ones." She finished. "Any questions?" She asked.
My mother puffed up her chest and stared straight at the one called Ursula. She did not take to the young disrespecting their elders. My father reached around Zara, and touched my mother's shoulder. This was not the time to be prideful. My mother met my father's eyes, and shook her head no to Ursula's question.
"Get on," Ursula said.
We loaded into the veiled cart. As we entered, we saw other Jews as well. Others who were as unlucky as we were to be found out. It was cramped, and smelled of sweat and bodily fluids. Noah began to cry, so I held him and tried to muffle his cries into my neck, so we did not draw attention.
There was something eerie about Ursula that I could not put my finger on. Everything was different now. We were headed to a camp, and as I recognized this, and memorized the faces of my family, I did not fear the camp. Not as much as I feared Ursula.
The hair on my arms stood up, and my heart was beating frantically in my ears. My family was restless, my mother touching all of our faces…and yet I was perfectly hyper aware that there was something much more malicious waiting…lurking in the shadows.