The Star

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short story of the pain, horrors and hopes of those caught up in world war ii from the view point of a mother almost shattered by the nazis and hitler.
one short story of the many more to come.

Submitted: May 31, 2016

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Submitted: May 31, 2016

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I clutched onto my daughter as they shoved and forced us into the cattle cars. The enclosed space was claustrophobic in size, the mass of bodies slamming against us made the situation even worse. It was like we didn’t deserve space, they didn’t seem to care if we lived come to think of it. Maybe that would explain the stench that hung in the air. The smell of: death, pain, excretion and loss. I could not let my daughter go through this anymore. She would survive this no matter what. This was too much to ask her to cope with and we shouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place. My husband (and her father) was lost to the cause of getting her to a safe place, and if I must be lost for this too then so be it.

At this moment I couldn’t do anything to save her. The only gaps in the cars were close together bars with wire closing off the gaps, stained ivory light filtered through. If it was hot perhaps the bars would’ve allowed for leeway which I could’ve slotted her though and she would’ve escaped. Obviously luck was not on our side and nor was God as the weather was anything but hot. A thick layer of ice claimed all surfaces almost turning my breath to ice. If it was a degree colder my breath may have fallen to the ground with a thud. Nothing seemed to carry warmth or hope for my fragile baby. Nothing except her. They stamped us with golden yellow stars. These stars were our symbol, they were supposed to represent our freedom, joy, even our bond with God as the chosen race! But here they mocked us with that very same symbol. They used it to brand us like animals. To demoralise us and above all to show we were the ones they wanted to eradicate. They wanted us to feel like nothing. Like a fly pestering them while they try to work, but I will not let them do that to me. I may not be able to change it for everyone but I can change it for me and my shining light. I will use this star they make us wear to demote me from humanity against them. That star is my hope, my badge of pride and I shall wear it like it is a part of my being, my soul. That star is my daughter.

Suddenly, the doors were slammed shut and a commotion could be heard from outside. Strangely, all the inhabitants of the car hushed.  Screams of all different kinds pierced the ears of the passengers from outside. Unkind barks of German were flying from men’s mouths; my only guess would have been that they were not to be heard by children. But this was a time of panic, a time where manners were thrown away and forgotten. I could hear men of my own language calling to each other.

“Look out!”

“Another; behind you!”

Hushed tones came up beside the car. Most words I could not make out. Every now and then I would pick up on a few. Each and every one igniting my hope. Another language broke free from the yelling and commotion, which could only be described as mayhem, and arose. This one strange, and slightly more foreign than the mixture of other languages. I could pin point a few of the simpler words from my childhood. My father would use the language sometimes when he did business. The voices from the time of peace brought comfort and alarmed me at the same time. My daughter would never have the male comfort of whom she may call her father. They had taken that away from her.

The doors of the carriage slowly creaked open. Shafts of light fell onto those around me. Revealing faces of those I could not see before in my time of panic. One single beam landed in the middle of the car between all the other people. This singular light beam landed on her face, her saffron hair blazed with licks of amber emerging. Causing my barrier of strength to crack, a part of my armour fell away. This part let a single tear escape from me. She was my hope and my freedom. I must stay strong for her and those who were lost to this cause. I owe that little to them, for it was all I could give right now. This life is ours to reclaim my star. A whisper broke free from my mouth, “And don’t let anyone take it away.”

 


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