Categories > Original > Historical > Before I Wake Up: Memories of Ada

Chapter 1: I Just want the water pot!

by Anna-wa 1 review

Holocaust. Ada has had a lot of her family destroyed and she thinks she might be next. She's really sick and can't get out of bed. What could happen?

Category: Historical - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Published: 2008-08-19 - Updated: 2008-08-27 - 509 words - Complete

0Unrated
My little sister d ied last night, when she had gone out of the bunker to get the pot of water a neighbor had so generously gave us.

My little sister had walked out of the bunker and tiptoed into the kitchen. However, despite her being very small and being able to hide in small places, she had made a sort of public appearance for the Germans.

Right after they had gotten in the door and shouted, "out damned Jews!" they had seen her hair. By the time she had grabbed the pot of water, the Germans had a rifle and aimed at just the right spot.

It hurt my eyes to look as the rifle got right in to her... and k illed her.

I just wanted to run over to those Germans and aim the rifle at them. However, I knew that that wouldn't do any good and it was too dangerous. So I stayed in the bunker.

"Out damned Jews!" the Germans kept yelling, still holding their rifles. "We know you're in here!"

We waited for several minutes. Too many minutes in my opinion. Plus, we didn't have the pot we used for human waist.

I almost asked my father if the Germans were starting to stay longer these days. However, they finally left, slamming the door behind them.

We carefully got out of the bunker, making sure all the covers were over the windows. Apparently though, the Germans had torn those off this time. They had strangely not done that before. However, we were always the last place in the Ghetto to be 'visited' by the Germans so we were not very worried about them seeing us through the windows. They had started doing more to get rid of the Jews though, so I was a little uneasy. I checked the window. Sure enough we were still the last place to be 'visited' in the Ghetto.

I wondered why we were always the last place to be visited. It was rather unusual.

The whole place was a mess. Tons of valuable things were all over the floor.

"Mama's ring," I picked it up. I remembered the day as well when Mama was k illed as well.

We went over to my little sister, Jane's d ead body. Her face was still in a frightened position.

We looked into her closed eyes.

I wanted to open them, I wanted to just look at those beautiful brown eyes for just one last time. To somehow see them looking at me and laughing and having fun all the time.

Instead though, tears just dropped at the memories of what fun Jane and I had had when we were very little.

I couldn't take it anymore. These Germans were taking away everything I had. My family, my friends, and my culture all together.

They were dehumanizing us.

"Why dad? Why?" I held Jane's head and my father held her stomach with one hand and her legs with the other.

"I don't know Ada," he replied. "I honestly don't know."
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