Alone, for Gypsy_Flitty

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
for a reddit IAmA

Submitted: August 04, 2011

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Submitted: August 04, 2011

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My family is gone, my friends are gone, and my lover is gone. They have taken everything from me that I held close. They are gone, to the camps in Poland, to the camps in Germany, to the camps in France; they are gone away from me forever. Never shall I here my mother call out Flitty in the night, to make sure that I was home, and safe. Never shall I smell my father’s tobacco in the evening. Never shall I feel the soft touch of my lover’s lips upon my cheek. They have taken it all. I am alone, and I am lost. My body remains here, in my small town in Romania, but my soul goes with them. My soul goes on the trains, my soul goes in the trucks, my soul goes through the checkpoints, through the showers, through the camp. My soul goes with them.

You may call me “lucky” that to have my life is a “blessing” or a “gift”, but you would be wrong. I consider myself to be the unluckiest girl that ever lived, that I have been hurt beyond belief, that I have had every gift I ever had torn away from me by the cold hands of death. I am cursed to live this life alone. My family and our friends do not remain in this town, they are gone away from here, those that do remain are the faithful, the believers of evil and the followers of hatred. Those that remain will hate me when I return, they will laugh at me, scorn me, and turn me in to be taken by them.

I will not fight it when it comes. I will let them bind my hands, I will let them kick my shins, I will let their spit fly onto my face. I will endure everything that they will do if my family is returned to me.

I have felt the worst pain that I shall ever feel. They have hurt me the worst that they ever can. They can not hurt me anymore. In that sense I am free. I shall die in the camp, I shall die alone, but I shall die knowing that they could not hurt me any more.

My voice is meek in the darkness, my hope like a match in a darkened room, my soul is dampened by sorrow, and my eyes are moist with tears. I make my way back to my “home”, which is not home without my mother, without my father, without my brother. It is simply a house. It is here I wait, it is here that I cry out and scream, it is here that I let my emotions run rampant, waiting for them to come.

They come, they come quickly, my neighbors, the soldiers, my captors. They come, and I am taken away. I am taken away to die, as they see it. But as I see it, I am being taken to my family. I am being taken to my friends, I am being taken to my lover. I will be with them once again.

 

 

For Gypsy_Flitty. 


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