Dawn
by Monnie
Well, I think that was the quickest update I've ever done. Consider it a gift, but I promise, I won't let it happen again ;) Okay, here's the deal. I'm thinkin', I do more frequent updates, but the chapters aren't going to be as long as in my other fics. That's it. That is the new plan. "I'm just gonna go on the date! That is the new plan!" Ahh, Rachel, you're such a dork. But you remind me of my friend Rachael, so I forgive you. For now, anyway...
Can you guys believe the show is almost over? I can't. Okay, that's reaaalllyyy not important. I guess I'm just reassuring you guys that I'm not serious and depressing all the time. I promise. Read my author's notes in my other fics. It's scary, man. Or, y'know, you could actually READ the fics. Ohh, you could review THOSE too. That would make my day. Or my week. Hell, you'd make my year. So, c'mon, spread some holiday joy, go read my other stories, and leave a review. Consider it your gift to me. I mean, guys, I gave you a quick update on this one, you owe me SOMETHING, don't you? Okay, shut up, Monnie...
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Chapter Two - Phoebe's Story
"That's all we get?" Rachel asked, dropping her spoon back into the tiny bowl of thin vegetable broth.
"Yeah," Phoebe whispered, taking another bite. She swallowed it gratefully, and bit a small piece off of the bread she'd been given. "It's not much, but it's better than some of the other camps."
"There are other camps?" She was bewildered.
Phoebe shot her a look. "Yeah! Don't you know anything?"
Rachel stared intently at her soup, and Monica placed a hand on her back, stroking her soothingly.
"I don't know anything about this place. I don't even know why they sent me here," she whispered, sniffling quietly.
"I thought you said it was because you had three Jewish grandparents?" Monica asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yes, I know THAT." She sighed. "I mean, why did they send us here? Why only us? Why not – all Poles?"
"Oh, that's simple." Phoebe scooted closer, and glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "It's Hitler," she whispered.
"Hitler is doing this?"
"Yeah. Him and his 'Final Solution'. He was looking for a way to get Germany out of trouble, so he blamed it on us Jews. Now, we have to pay for it."
"That's so unfair!" Rachel said, a bit too loudly, and she banged her fist on the table, before realizing what she'd done. She gasped, and put a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
"You there!" An SS officer called from across the room, "You three! Your meal is over now! Get back to your cabins!" He barked, and Rachel's face fell.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to Monica and Phoebe, as the three of them stood up, and headed out of the food block, their heads hanging. Officers glared at them as they went. The girls didn't dare to breathe until they had reached the safety of the grounds. Even there, speaking too loudly could cost them their life, but it was less likely that they'd get caught, when they were concealed by the thin fog of dusk.
"Okay, look, you guys," Phoebe whispered, as the girls moved even quicker across the cold ground. The jagged rocks and solid dirt stung their bare feet, but they kept going, determined to reach 'home' unscathed. "There are a couple unwritten rules you have to understand about Auschwitz," she continued, "number one, is never to draw attention to yourself. If you blend in with the crowd, the officers won't learn your face, and you'll be less likely to be chosen for a 'trip'."
"A trip?" Rachel whispered.
"Yeah, in other words --" she slid her index finger across her neck, and made a choking sound, indicating that they were killed. Both Monica and Rachel instinctively closed their hands around their own throats in horror, and Phoebe shook her head. "Eh, it's just as well. Anyone who'll believe an SS when he says that they're 'going on a trip', deserves to die, anyway. Saves more room for the rest of us, eh?" She smiled wryly.
Monica stopped in her tracks. "Phoebe! That's disgusting!"
"What? I was just joking around!"
"That's not something to joke about," she said, sternly, and put her hands on her hips. Phoebe sobered.
"You're right. I'm sorry." She shook her head again, and they continued walking, as the front line barracks came back into view. They found the appropriate one, and entered. The block was completely abandoned; everyone was at dinner.
"Guess we have the place to ourselves," Monica said, smiling weakly at the others, and Phoebe nodded.
"For almost an hour, actually. We only got about two minutes of mealtime."
"I'm sorry!" Rachel said, loudly, and threw her hands up. The other girls shushed her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth again, as her cheeks flushed pink. "Oops."
The three women found their own piece of floor in the corner of the block, near their 'beds', and made themselves comfortable.
"Mind you, we're not going to be this fortunate all the time." Phoebe said, knowingly.
"What do you mean?" Monica asked.
"I mean, Rachel's not going to get off so easily, the next time she speaks up like that. And we're not going to have this much free time in the evenings. It's not fun and games here at the camp."
"I still don't get it." Rachel said, leaning back against the wooden sleeping berths behind her.
"What?"
"Why we're here! It's all so surreal."
"I know what you mean. When I first came here, it was all a complete blur. I didn't really realize what had happened to me until it had already happened."
"What DID happen to you, Pheebs?" Monica inquired, pulling her legs close to herself, and resting her chin on her knees.
"Well, it was about four months ago. My mother, my sister and I were taken straight out of our homes and sent to the Auschwitz Women's Camp."
"What about your father?" asked Rachel.
"Dunno. I never heard from him since then. They sent him to the men's camp. I've heard it's a million times worse over there, so, I'm guessing he's probably dead by now. You know, a lot of those guys don't survive more than a week or so over there."
Monica's breath caught in her throat.
Rachel, on the other hand, was appalled. "Phoebe, how can you talk about your father's death so casually?"
"I'm not. I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I'll probably never see him again."
"That's awful..." Her voice trailed off.
"I know, it is. But it's the life we have to live with, now."
"Well, what about your mother, your sister, or whoever?"
"Oh, my family? They're gone, too. See, my Mom couldn't bear losing my father, and on top of everything else, she couldn't take care of herself, and she was going absolutely crazy. She committed suicide almost a month after we got to the camp. Ran out to the edge of the confinement, and threw herself into the electrical fence."
"Oh man...that's – that's --"
"I know it is. " Phoebe's face grew solemn, and Monica found her voice again.
"Michael..." she whispered.
"What?"
"My husband, Michael. He's – he's in the men's camp." Monica closed her eyes, and pictured his face. It was more than she could handle. She pushed it from her mind.
Rachel looked up. "You're married?"
"Yeah. For almost a year."
"I'm so sorry, Mon." Rachel took her hand, and Phoebe, not knowing how to comfort her, patted her on the head, and sat awkwardly, waiting for the moment to pass.
"Oh, Phoebe?" Monica remembered something.
The young girl's thoughts snapped back to Earth. "Hmm?"
"You said you had a sister."
"Yes. I did."
"What happened to her?"
"It was – it was this Doctor. Doctor – um – Doctor Mengele, I think. He was this creepy old man, and he inspected my sister and me when we came into the camp. Ursula and I, we were twins, you know. Identical twins. He, after we were admitted into the camp, he called us out one morning. Out to his office." Monica's hand sought Phoebe's.
"He – he told us to lie down on the table," she continued, "and he stripped us of our clothes, telling us that he was just doing a little test. He found syringes, and injected Ursula and me with different substances. I remember, I felt really woozy, and really sick. Ursula was coughing up blood. Doctor Mengele started talking in rapid German to an SS officer, and the SS told me in terrible Polish that 'the pain would go away'. Unfortunately, if the pain went away, it probably meant that I'd die. So, I kept up the pain. I made sure I could still feel it, and I took Ursula's hand. She was crying, and coughing, and I stood there, next to her. It was like a nightmare come true." Phoebe drew in a shuddering breath; she had been holding this in too long. "I stood there, next to her, for almost an hour, watching her. I would've died in her place, I would've taken on her pain. But instead, I was the one who got to sit there and watch her suffer. I remember – I remember – she tightened her hand around me. She looked into my eyes, as Doctor Mengele came around me, muttering something I couldn't understand. There was a sharp pain in my side. I think the doctor injected me with something else – but I still remember Ursula's eyes. She was dead inside already. She turned her head, and coughed up even more blood, before her other hand came around, to rest on top of mine. And I remember the last thing she ever said. Even while she was dying on a cold, hard table, lying there, coughing, suffering, holding on to me, she summoned up her last bit of strength, to speak to me. You know what she said? 'Show someone the love you've shown me'. And dammit, I'm going to." Phoebe shut her eyes stubbornly, leaning back against the wooden beds, her tears finally falling.
"Oh my god..." Rachel whispered.
Monica shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, if he even exists."
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