Another World

Lotta is a jew in World War 2. Come with her as she relives the memories haunting her. I did it for my english homework and got a good review so I wanted to see what you think.

„Anna don’t push so hard. “ I laughed at my sister. In reply she pushed the swing even harder. I screamed. We all laughed and mother called “Anna, Lotta, play nicely.” I climbed off the swing and Anna took my place. She was older than me by two years, I was ten and she was twelve. We laughed and skipped around the garden. Father came outside and kissed mother on the forehead. It was perfect I didn’t want anything to change.

“Los mit dir! Get on with you!” Rough hands shove me forward. I cling to Anna as we are lead with the other people to a big courtyard. We line up and I see mother a little way off next to two older women. I’m scared. There is a big burly man with a moustache standing proudly in front of us all. What does he want?

The journey had lasted a day and a half. There had been nothing to eat apart from a crust of bread and a cup of water shared among us all. My father has been dead for a month now. I can still remember that day. That awful, horrible day. The day my father died.

We have been living in the ghetto for five months. I don’t like it and I want to move back. But mother says we can’t. She says that God wants us to live here and we should be grateful to have a roof over our heads. I’m not grateful. Anna says it’s complicated and that I won’t understand. She is seventeen now and I fifteen. But I do understand and I find it unfair that Anna is told things and I am not. I’m fifteen and don’t see why they keep me in the dark. I tell God this, I pray to him all the time not only the three times that we have to. I ask him questions. About why I am not allowed to talk to other German children. About why we had to move from our lovely big house in Hamburg. I know we have to wear David’s star because we are Jews. I think that’s unfair. When I told mother this she became all cold and made me never to ask questions like that again. So I don’t ask them, I ask God.

Father comes home every day from work with the other men in out ghetto. He looks tired and worse every day, I worry about him. I don’t think he is treated fairly at his work. I wonder why he changed jobs then. But he won’t tell me and mother won’t tell me and Anna won’t tell me. They all say I am too young. There are soldiers that patrol out little village. I prefer the name village to ghetto it makes it sound more human. 

The snow lies on the ground and we are playing with the other children. I get hit straight in the face by a snowball “Saukerl!” I shout to the retreating back of my next door neighbour David. I scrunch the ball up and throw. It hits him in the back and he turns laughing “Saumensch, how could you?”

“We’re quits.” It seems perfect but then a guard comes and shouts at us. “Shut up. Some people are trying to work.” It was Trevor one of the nicer soldiers that patrolled the ghetto. Suddenly there is a commotion behind us. Curious all of us make our way to the back of the village. Papa and the other men are standing against a wall. There are several soldiers that I don’t know pointing guns at them. “Papa!” Anna screams, he doesn’t here. We scream more and more but David and couple of elder boys hold us back. “Father, Papa, kannst du mich hören?” I bellow. His face turns towards us. What’s he saying? Go. Leave. Run. Got to Mama. Run! RUN! I try and run to him but am held back. I bite, scratch and claw my oppressor trying to break free. I want to stop the soldiers from raising their guns. RUN! The order is clear and I feel myself being lifted and dragged back. Anna is sobbing in David’s arms but I continue to call out for papa … the guns are raised. Fingers lain on triggers. Someone covers my face. But that doesn’t stop me from hearing. BANG. NO! PAPA! PAPA!

I shuddered, reliving the nightmare has always weakened me. We have all just found out why we moved from the ghetto. We were always going to leave after papa and his colleagues broke into the store and opened fire on the guards but no one told us, even the adults didn’t know, where we would go. This place is called Arbeitsdorf and we are going to help manufacture cars. I think that’s stupid. What do people need new cars for? Why do we have to make them? But I know why. Hitler’s crazy in the head. That’s why. Dear God please help us to survive. We are all crammed in rooms and have to sleep six a bunk. The people that have been here longer are starved. I can see them through the fence. Their blank eyes staring at us in … what? Despair, sorrow. I have no idea. I pray I don’t become like them. Who could do that to people? Why have you, God, not stopped this from happening? Why are we being punished? Their hair is shaved and looks naked. I can imagine their hair flowing freely down their faces and then a soldier comes and rips their hair off. It is so different to the life we used to lead. My hair too will be like that in a matter of hours. Ripped, torn and yanked about until shaved and bare. My clothes, my beautiful girly clothes will be taken away and burnt. Then they will give rags but worse than rags and I won’t be me I’ll be a prisoner. Those people are full of desperation and have given up on life. I don’t want to be like that at all. Dear God help me to survive.

Reviews

[ladala6712]

I really like it! I especially like the part where she says, "So I don’t ask them, I ask God." Also I like that you put in some German words, it gives it a nice flair and makes it feel really authentic. The part about her dad getting killed was really well written. Tragic. Sad.