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Creative Writing: The Holocaust

Decent Essays

The train zoomed past the place we used to call home. We were being taken to Auschwitz. By we, I mean me and Margot, my sister. I looked around us at the people; some seemed almost as old as Methuselah, some looked around the age of 10. The other Jews seemed to be more down than I was, though all of us were basically being dragged to our death place. The ones before us had already been beaten, starved, shot, and put in the worst situations possible. I lied. Well, we lied, me and Margot. I couldn’t be put into the “barracks”, as I heard them called, that others had slept, peed in, and worst of all died in. Margot was my twin, at least that is what we told them. Though me and Margot are sisters and the same age, we are anything but twins. …show more content…

The Nazi soldier commanded us out and forcefully put us in a line. The other soldiers behind him then separated us by where we would be going. Two other sets of twins that I hadn’t noticed before stood next to us. Both looked very young. One of them, maybe twenty, the other, around 15. I knew I had to appear stronger than I actually was, for the people around me. I had to be the positive in the group of negatives. I had to be Job, who suffered yet remained faithful. My God would get me out of this. No matter how long it …show more content…

He separated me and Margot. She was all I had. There was no way I could survive in this camp without her. Was this the beginning of the experiments? Was this how things were on a daily? Was I always to be separated from my family? First our parents, now Margot. Our parent’s hid us when they were taken to Dachau. I remember hiding under the wooden floor of our small Polish home. The tight space our father had built for this exact moment almost a year before was finally being put to use. Me and Margot sitting with our faces in our knees, shoulder to shoulder. In this space, the only light we had came from the small crack through which we saw the soldiers bust down our door and take our parents, never to be seen again. We stayed under that wooden floor patch for almost an hour longer. We promised that nothing would separate us from each other besides death. We’ve been by each other since then. I said only death would separate us but I guess Dr. Mengele had

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