Tag Archive: children


Day 15


Hey guys! Today, I’ll be doing another freeform writing, seeing as I have nothing set to offer.
Good luck!

___________________

Mama, they marched us to the parade ground. I held the hand of Nahor. He didn’t let me go even as I stumbled. They shouted at me roughly, Mama. It made me sad. You never shout at me even when I am naughty.
After marching us to the ground, they made us take off our clothes. They said we might have diseases. They shaved my hair too. I am not happy. I miss my curly hair, Mama. I miss your fingers running through my curls.
Where are you mama? Hope they’re not shouting at you? No one shouts at my Mama!
They’re taking us into a chamber mama. They said it’s to bath us.
I hope I’ll be able to see you tonight. Nahor misses you too but he’s ‘being a man’.
They’re pushing us roughly into the chamber.
Nahor is shaking.
It’s just a bath. I wonder why he’s afraid…

***********************

They captured us from our homes. Rounded us up like animals. Don’t take anything! Out! They screamed at us, hate twisting their faces, guns pointed at us. We obeyed.
We’re on a train huddled together.
Where is our destination, an old man asked. They hit him and told him to him up.
We’re watching landscape change in silence. Someone tries to sing but no one responds. Our hearts are heavy.
We’ve passed familiar places, Towns we visited in happier times.
The train stops at a station and more people are pushed in.
Where are you taking us to? An indignant man asks. One of the guards shoots him in the chest, laughing and leaves him in the carriage. The younger children are screaming. 
Some of the girls are crying.
Why us?
What did we do?
The men are trying to move the body to another part of the already cramped coach.
The train passes a post that reads ‘Auschwitz’.
I watch the sign even as it had passed out of view. Fear twists my heart.
Bubbe holds my hands tightly, her frail body quivering with exhaustion and age.
We wonder what we’ll find there…

******************

Cries.
Screams.
Their voices are raised, day and night.
Black smoke pours out of the huge chimneys attached to the chambers.
Cries.
Screams.
They’re being burned alive.
Eli Eli lama sabachtani?

———————–

That’s it.
Dunno why they came to mind; those children in 1942.
They went to Auschwitz- Birkenau.
They never came back…

Sigh.

Halloween Special


Feel like writing.

________
“Trick or treat?” The hooded child asked.
Without a word, I shut the door.
“Bloody Halloween kids” I grumbled, sitting back on the sofa and picking up my book.
The doorbell rang again.
I sighed and dropped my novel. I really hate Halloween nights.
Bloody kids!
I yanked the door open.
The same kid.
“Told you to fucking scram didn’t I!” I shouted. He was quiet and I immediately felt guilty. I shouldn’t swear at youngins.
“What is your name?” The boy asked in a quiet voice.
My name? Against my own volition, I told him.
“Chichi”
He repeated my name, as if practising.
“Ok Chichi” he said and raised his head to look at me. At that instant, the security lights went off.
I didn’t see his face.
He pulled his hood back down and the lights flickered back on.
I suddenly felt disturbed and without another word, I shut the door and locked it.
No more answering the door.

I could not concentrate. Something I couldn’t put my finger on niggled the back of my mind like a worm.
Upset and tired for no reason, I decided it was time to sleep.
I live alone.
I don’t know why this thought came unbidden to my head as I brushed my teeth.
I lived alone.
Shaking off my disquiet, I jumped into bed and switched off the lights.
Creaks.
On a normal day, listening to the creaks of the house soothed me to sleep but not today.
Every groan sounded like an invasion. Every creak, like someone was in the house with me. The house seemed colder. I huddled under my duvet, trying to stay warm.
My rational mind forced me to stop with the foolishness and sleep.
After tossing and turning, I managed to drop off onto a troubled sleep.

Cold.
Dark.
I run.
Trick or treat?
I’ve got no bloody sweets kid!
Run!
Trick or treat?
Run!
What’s your name?
Chichi.
Chichi.
Chichi.
Trick or treat?
Colder.
Run faster.
One stinking sweet bitch!
One. Stinking. SWEET!
Cold, small hands grab my ankles and long, sharp nails dig in.
I scream.

I woke up in sweat, shivering as my body fluids dried on my skin. I groaned and stretched my hand to flick the switch on my bedside lamp.
Light.
“One stinking sweet”a voice whispered.
I turned sharply.
I saw no one.
“One stinking sweet!”
My eyes widened. It was that child’s voice!
Suddenly I felt clammy hands grab my ankles.
I screamed, trying to kick off my invisible captor. The hands multiplied on my skin, pinning my arms to my sides and holding my head steady.
I felt something cool touch my cheek.
With sharp pain came recognition…and terror.
A knife.

——————-

Knife wounds decorated her face.
He had stuck the knife inside her mouth when he got tired of stabbing at her eyes.
He walked towards her and gently removed the knife.
He checked the clock on her bed stand.
“Not too late” he whispered.
He bent close to her lacerated ear and whispered.
Suddenly, she coughed, blood spraying her night shirt.
He stepped back and watched her.
She shrunk before his eyes.
When the transformation was complete, he helped her out of the bed.
“Come” he whispered gently, giving her a hooded cloak.
“Work to be done.”
Slowly, she nodded.

————————–

Juliet grumbled as she paused the movie on her laptop.
She opened the door and frowned at the two hooded children standing outside.
“Trick or treat?” One of them whispered, a girl.
“Go somewhere else!” Juliet grumbled and tried to shut the door.
The other child stuck his leg in the way.
“What is your name?” He asked
Juliet frowned. “Juliet. So?”
The two children repeated her name and her security lights went off.

———————-

Three hours later, three children rang a doorbell.

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