| Current music: | Blood in my eyes- Disturbed |
-Story-
Okay...this is the end of a story I'm writing. Because I have such an odd way of writing stories and such, the ending came to me first so here it is (It's about a girl who was in a jewish camp and its her thoughts, just so you know)....
It was one of the hardest days of my life. The work was killing me and I could feel I would die before the day was done. My Mama saw how it was wearing me down so she came over silently and helped. I was just thinking that I would make it through the day when the guard came over and pushed Mama, Matel and myself onto our knees. I sank down in the mud and he told us, with his harsh voice I’d heard too many times, to stay kneeled until told to get up and to keep our arms held straight out to the side level with our shoulders. It was to be that if our arms dropped below our shoulder we would be whipped. It seemed as if we had been there days when I felt my arms falling. With no surprise I felt the indescribable pain of the whip slashing over my shoulders and arms over and over again. I had heard of things like this before, although until now it hadn’t happened. I’d heard that the people so weak and overworked sometimes just feel. Just feel flat on their face and never got up again. With bitter realization, I began to think, “This is how I am to die. Here in the mud being so shameful struck over and over again with the whip.” Everything turned hazy; all the sounds seemed to be 10 times quieter. Then, in slow motion the ground was coming closer to me. Right before I hit the ground I realized I was falling; falling to my death. And then I was down. I was laying face down in the mud and as I tried to either will myself to get up again or breathe in what little air I could find the mud seemed to engulf me. “I am going to die right here” I thought to myself. The worst part about it all is that the last thought I had before dieing was guilt. I was feeling guilt; Guilt for dieing and leaving my mama, Matel and everyone else who had tried to help me through it. As I felt the last bit of life in me leave I couldn’t help but feel the guilt.
(Read comments)
|
