Changing History

     
"Please don't do this..." I manage to say, barely audible. The officer looks down at me, his eyes daggers. "Give me one good reason not to kill you. You and your kind go against everything the Fuhrer stands for. You're filth. You're a stain on the perfect Aryan race. So tell me 4587... why shouldn't I kill you."

For a moment.. just a quick moment.. I close my eyes. I close my eyes, and I think back to what my life was like before I found myself in this horrendous place. I remember where my life began to change for me.

The date is January, 1933. Adolf Hitler has just been appointed reich chancellor of Germany, by our President Hindenburg. My father does not like Adolf Hitler. I've heard him tell my mother so. I do not have much of an opinion on the man.. however I do not know his ideals. Being a 13 year old girl, I do not follow politics, nor do I have much interest in them. I prefer to read books, play my violin and go out for ice cream with my friends. My father is a smart man, and if he does not like Hitler, I shall not like Hitler either. He says now that Hitler has wormed his way into the Reichstag, he will eventually become head of state, and if that happens our lives will never be the same. He will not tell me what exactly he means by this, but he is a strong believer in it.

August, 1934. Hitler is now the President of Germany. It’s amazing how much one’s opinion can change in just 19 months. I now know how I feel about Hitler, and not just because of my father’s view on him. I fear for the safety of the Jewish people not just in Germany, but perhaps all of Europe too. I can feel it in my gut, and I know better than to go against my gut feelings. Hitler strongly dislikes the Jewish people… but for now, life goes on as normal. I go to school, I see my friends every day, I go to the movie theatre, and I have violin lessons every Tuesdays and Thursdays with a very lovely elderly German woman.

September, 1935. The Nuremburg laws are passed, stripping the Jewish people of German citizenships, causing us to lose jobs, and many other basic rights. We are not permitted to display German national colours, or the national flag, which has also been changed to the Nazi symbol- the swastika, and Marriage between “Aryans” and “Non-Aryans” is forbidden. Life begins to go downhill from here. We begin to have to wear a gold Star of David on all of our clothing articles so people can tell us apart, so we can be identified as Jews. As a stain on Hitler’s “perfect Aryan race” A sore that won’t go away. Soon we are to attend different schools. In schools they teach you “what a Jew looks like.” They tell stories depicting us as menacing, perverted, beggars, criminals.. Life begins to take a sharp turn. I begin to hate Hitler more and more everyday. What did we do to deserve this? We are people just as much as Germans are.

The date I’ll never forget. It is February 18^th, 1936.
*BANG BANG BANG* There is knocking on the door. My sister sits straight up in her bed at the exact time that I do. I am now 16 years old, and I know what is about to happen. It is the German police, I know this before my father opens the door. It is the German police, and they are here to tell us to pack our bags and go with them. I’ve seen it happen. They will tell us to pack and they will take us away. I am unsure of where, I am unsure for how long and I am unsure of if I will ever see my bedroom again. My father now opens the door, my mother hiding behind him, and my sister and I peeking from the top of the stairs.

“Pack one suitcase each. You have ten minutes and then you are coming with us.” One of the two officers says to my father.

“And if I don’t?” My father asks.

“You will do as you are asked and pack your way, or you will be unconscious and I will pack for you, my way.” The officer says, nose to nose with my father. My sister begins to cry and I hold her. My mother lets out a whimper as my father continues to stare down the officer and the officer raises his hand as if to strike him. She pulls him away to their bedrooms to pack. She knows not to tell me what I need to pack, because she knows I’ve been waiting for this moment. She knows I am old enough to handle my little sister also.

Just like I had predicted, they took us. They took us to a concentration camp.. Dachau. From that moment on my life has been a series of hard labour, sicknesses, pain, suffering, and watching my loved ones, and people around me, die. Every day, death after death after death. My sister and I are the only ones left of this family. I fight to stay alive just for her. She is growing weaker and weaker as the days pass, she needs more food. I know I have to do something, so I sneak out and steal an extra ration of bread. A guard spots me, and before I have the chance to run, I feel the sharp sting of his belt on my back. I try to run, but he hits me again, this time the pain is so overwhelming I collapse to the ground. I try to crawl but he kicks me, repeatedly, over and over again. I feel myself start of cough up blood, as he continuously kicks me.

“Please… Please don’t do this” I manage to whisper. The guard says something to me… I close my eyes and think back to before my life became hell. I open my eyes just in time to see him raise his belt high above his head. Before I have the chance to open my mouth and scream for mercy, everything goes black.