Boris.

A story about a young man's struggles during the holocaust.

The fog filled the camp so much it made it hard to even see the feet below him. It was past midnight he expected and he knew this would be his only chance to escape. Escape this hell in which he still did not know why he was there to begin with. He committed no crimes. He brought no harm to anyone. He was guilty of simply being a Jew.

"It's freezing tonight", Boris said to himself as he quickly rubbed his hands together for warmth.

Boris was twenty-three years old with his whole life ahead of him. He was a rather average young man. Average height and weight. Black curly hair with black stubbles on his face to match.

Before all this came to be he worked at a deli down the street from his one bedroom apartment. The owner was an old, German man named Christoph. He was a kind-hearted, wholesome elderly man and never treated him wrong. Occasionally the old man would have Boris over for dinner to eat with his wife Hilda and him. The three of them had no family so they enjoyed each other's company. They had each other and it was a good life.

That all changed one morning while Boris was asleep at home. He awoke to shouting and banging coming from outside of the apartment in the hallway. He got out of bed and got dressed quickly. He started to make out what the shouting was and he couldn't believe his ears. He heard rumors about the German government and it's hatred of Jews, but he didn't think it was true.

He looked around the small, cramped apartment and panicked. He heard the woman and her baby from down the hall both crying and screaming. His only option was to take the fire escape and run to Christoph's. He barricaded the door to give himself some time.

Everything was happening so fast the next thing he knew he was full on sprinting towards the deli. He thrusted the heavy, wooden door open and startled the old man.

"Boris, you scared me half to death! What's the matter?" The old man shouted out.

"Sir, the rumors are true. The Germans are taking the Jews from their homes," Boris replied trying to catch his breath.

"Quick come here and hide under the counter!" Christoph anxiously said.

Not a moment later two German soldiers came storming into the deli both armed with Browning Hi-Power pistols.

"Where is the Jewish pig?" the soldier demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You must be mistaken sir," the old man calmly replied.

"I have witnesses that say they saw that Jew that works for you run in here moments ago," the soldier started to yell. "I'll give you one more chance. Where is he!"

"I swear sir I haven't seen him," Christoph pleaded.

Boris heard the gun c**k back and he jumped to his feet with out hesitation.

"Wait, don't hurt him!" Boris screamed.

The two brutes then aimed their guns at Boris. Boris could feel every hair stand up on the back of his neck and the sweat trickle down his back.

"Looks like we found our dirty, Jew rat," the one soldier said with a smirk on his face.

"BANG!"

Boris glanced over and in an instance the old man was laying lifeless in a pool of his own blood. One shot was all it took to take away the sweet, old man's life.

"I don't know what's worse. A filthy, disgusting Jew or a cowardice traitor helping a filthy, disgusting Jew," the one soldier jokingly said to the other.

Boris fell to his knees and sobbed over the old man's body. He held him in his arms and was overcome with grief knowing that Christoph died trying to protect him. He looked up with tears in his eyes as the soldier came down with the butt end of the gun like a hammer and knocked the young man out cold.

The ground felt damp and cold when he came to. He was lying in a small cabin filled with other innocent people that were forcefully taken from their homes. His head felt as if he was hit by a train. He slowly sat up and looked to see if anyone was awake. He caught a stare from the younger man next to him.

"You've been out for hours," the young kid said to him. He handed Boris a cloth to wipe the blood from his hands. "My name is Joseph, what's yours?"

"Hello Joseph, my name's Boris. Thanks for the rag," he replied. "Where are we exactly?"

"We're in a labor camp somewhere outside of Buchenwald I believe," Joseph said. "The Germans are gathering all of the Jews and putting us to work like slaves."

Boris looked at the boy and could see the fear in his eyes. He must have been no older than 16. Boris felt sorry for the boy. He wanted to ask him if he had any family, but he didn't just in case it reminded the boy of the gruesome behavior of the Germans. Joseph rolled over and attempted to sleep.

The next morning they were woken up very early. The sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon yet. The Germans had stripped everyone of their belongings, even their clothes, and forced them to wear these dingy, blue jump suits. The men were put to work right away by building more cabins to accommodate more room for more prisoners while the women and children were forced to cook food for the soldiers and make more jumpsuits.

The day was finally over when the sun started to set. A few men passed out due to exhaustion and hunger and were taken away. No one knew exactly where to, but everyone had a good idea of what happened to them.

"I can't take this anymore. I'm leaving tonight," Boris proclaimed.

"What are you crazy? Do you know what they'll do to you if they catch you?" Joseph pleaded.

"I know the risk, but it's something I have to do. I'll leave tonight when the fog makes it's way in," Boris said.

Boris knew his only chance was to try and sneak pass the guard on watch. The fog would definitely work to his advantage, but there is a spotlight as well. He would have to be very careful if he wanted to reclaim his freedom.

"So I guess this is goodbye then," Joseph said solemnly.

"This isn't goodbye. I'll return with help I promise," Boris said as he gave Joseph a firm handshake.

Boris crept out into the night. The stars were out and you could see every constellation in the sky.

"It's freezing tonight", Boris said to himself as he quickly rubbed his hands together for warmth.

He made his way from cabin to cabin making sure to not make a sound and to stay out of the reach of the spotlight's blinding light. Every second felt like an eternity and Boris started to get very anxious as he got closer to the last cabin. The fence towards the back of the camp was close to the woods so he could jump it and run there. As he got in position to make a sprint for the fence he heard something.

"WOOF, WOOF!"

He didn't expect there to be a dog on watch with the guard. He ran for the fence regardless. The spotlight shined it's light down and revealed Boris running like a beetle under a rock. He heard gunshots and somehow ran faster. He leaped onto the fence and started to climb. He got to the top and threw himself over. He fell hard on the frozen ground, but somehow got the strength to stand back up. Boris reached down and felt something warm oozing from his midsection. He looked down and saw the blood. He took another step and collapsed.

Author's Note

Please pardon the grammar. This is my first short story I've ever written. Please tell me what you think.

Reviews

[KirstMind]

Shoh that was an intense read, you caputured each setting, detail and emotion perfectly that for a minute I felt as though i was watching a movie in my head. Fantastic write!

[MomzillaNC]

This is a pretty fair first offering. Your tale is moving and poignantly tragic.

It's not so much grammatical errors and mildly illogical application of your descriptors. I also think this could benefit from the use of some period specific colloquial phrases and terms to better set feeling of the era. There are also German-language terms that have come down to us from that era, the meanings for which are broadly understood without translation. I recommend reading some literature and essays from the period. Historical fiction is a wonderful genre to write. This topic is an alluring one to write about, so full of drama and tragedy. However, you need to do much more research to convey at truer sense of the time and place.

As for your grammar, the best advice I can give is to read really great writing. Writers like P.G. Wodehouse, Peter Mayle and Georgette Heyer are a great eduction to read because they write so well, using language and dialogue with never a period or comma out of place.

[Brandon Wesley Mckay]

This was quite good, sir. I have some thoughts regarding style, but as this is your first short story, as you said, I think I might keep them to myself. This is such a great first shot that I would hate to deprive you of the finding your voice.

The only thing I can say aside from any of that is Jennie Baron some good things to say, follow that. But I would also suggest rereading your story, seeing if there are bits you might be able to tighten up or re-word. For instance, if you can somehow convey the claustrophic atmosphere of being inside the cabin. Does that make sense? You told us the place, but perhaps there may be a better way to make us FEEL the place. The same could be said with the relationship dynamics and such.

Once again, wonderful first short story. Better than most first attempts I have seen. It would not take much to really kick it up a notch.
Well done.

[Angie Diane♥&hea..]

I didn't catch many errors in the story. It was a poweful story. Christoph protecting the younger man and losinghis life was very upsetting. Then ending was pretty sad too. I could not imagine the pain the Jews felt when they were being ripped out of there homes and being brought to concentration camps. You did a wonderful job for your first time writing a short story. Thank you for the share.

[Mr. Box]

Furthermore, I suggest the main character's name, 'Boris' can be used as the title.

[Mr. Box]

This is a wonderful story. I feel it very emotional, especially when the old man died for protecting his Jewish worker. However, I feel the final part of the story is a little bit rushed. I suggest to add more the story of Boris' life in concentration camp until he decide to escape. Furthermore, I also suggest that the escape parts have to be detailed as well. However, they were just my suggestions. This is a good story, thanks for sharing.

[Jennie Baron]

This is a powerful story, Michael, and also moving. My heart sank at the thought of the old man losing his life to protect Boris, and I thought the ending was well done. As a good short story should do, you tell us a lot about the main character without too much explanation. Well done for a first short story! If you post more, I'd like to see them.

There weren't too many grammar/usage/spelling errors, but often reviewers expect writing to meet a certain standard in that regard when they receive it, so I do suggest brushing up on all that.

I presume you have a missing word here: "He thrusted the heavy, wooden [door] open"