April Mourning

You’re sprinting through a field, your bare feet soaked in blood. Flesh being exposed from the vines and thistles that snag your nightgown almost as if their existence is to keep you shackled. Imma had told you that they were coming for Denmark next but she didn’t know when. Your family packed to-go bags just in case and everyone went about their daily life, trying not to raise any red flags. The sun had risen and fallen to April when you heard them coming. The city quivered and crowds gathered in the streets. Imma had heard the horror stories and murmurs around town about what they had done in Germany and Poland.

They spared the details from your young innocent ears, but no censorship could hide that there was evil coming after your kind. Imma had woken you up, gripping your face with her rough calloused hands from gardening, she looked at you with blood shot eyes whispering, “Abigail, I do not want you to ever have to look into the face of the devil. Run! You run and don’t ever look back. I want you to hide and hide well. Try to blend in, wear a bonnet to hide your curls, and avoid eye contact. Don’t let them capture you.” A tear rolls down your cheek at the thought of leaving your family behind. She wipes it with her thumb and places a gentle kiss upon your forehead. Feeling her hand slide down to your neck, she grips the chain that displays the star of David. With a quick tug she snaps the necklace and wraps your fingers around it. Sealing it with a kiss. “Head South-East to the ports, I’ve heard rumors of a boat “Gerda” transporting Jews to Sweden for safety. I have to help Bubbeh and Zaydeh get to safety before I can find you in Sweden. If you don’t hear from me in 2 months, continue on without me. You have a whole future ahead of you.”

I won’t let them find me Imma, I promise. You swear to yourself over and over again as your feet push harder; screaming with every step you take onto the masses of earth that seem to be fighting for the nazis.

Sprinting for countless miles not daring to stop because you know being captured will hurt worse than the pain you're experiencing now. The sun is beginning to set behind the trees as you take off East. You’ve travelled to the ports before for fresh fish with your Imma; it was a 3 day journey by wagon. As the sun sank farther, you knew that danger was imminent.

There was nothing as far as the eye could see except the dense woods of Denmark. You sigh as you realize there are no other options but to rest here. Finding a thicket of bushes a few yards off the path, you head that way limping as the endorphins willing you to continue, wear off. Lactic acid burns through your muscles, causing them to tremble. You sit down, dumping out your bag to see what supplies you have for survival in the next week. Your eyes fall to your canteen and desperately grab it not realizing how much your mouth thirst for water. Pulling out a floral dress, bonnet, and sandals your friend's mom had lent you if it ever came to this. You redress yourself to look more European than Jewish, hoping somehow to not be recognized. Repacking your bag you lay your head on it, begging to get some rest.

Your eyes snap open with every sound the animals make, in anticipation that the soldiers are coming. Wind’s deafening howls surround you and goosebumps travel up your body. Reaching into your pocket you pull out the star of David, holding it up to the moonlight. It gleams in the beams of light and you pray for your family's safety. The stars shine brighter down on you as if hearing your prayers.

Suddenly, in the distance you hear the coordinated marching of soldiers. The earth trembled and shook. Frantically grabbing your bag you crouch down. Crawling farther away from the main path. Finding a tree that was feasible to climb, you silently run the rest of the way there and work your way up.

Perched at the top hidden from their sights, you can see the group of tan and red uniforms, representing the blood of innocents. They are conversing in German and you can smell their cigarette smoke polluting the air, just as their ideologies have infected Germany. The light from their lanterns get’s closer to your original camping spot and you hold your breath. They sway the lantern hauntingly as they stalk the innocent ones in the shadows. Something sparkles in the brush. He whistles for the other soldiers to come over and holds something up to the lantern. Barely able to make out what it is, but when you see, your heart drops. Your hand reaches into your dress pocket and comes up empty.

The soldiers shout in German, as you’re trying to catch your breath. The weight of the war crushes your chest like a hundred boulders as you struggle for air. Hand signals are given and you watch them separate like a pack of hyenas hunting their prey. Time diminishes as their training will inevitably lead to your capture. Clenching your eyes shut you bring yourself back to your old bedroom. Reliving those last few moments of peace before they find you.

You felt something smack your leg leaving a dull ache. Then another one. Your eyes snap open to see that they are hurling rocks at you, signaling that your time on the run is up. Accepting defeat, you climb down as a tear rolls down your cheek. I’m sorry Imma. Is all you can think. I failed you.

Reaching the bottom you turn around and face the soldiers. Standing up right with no sense of fear. To save your kind and win the war, the Jews had to appear unbroken. With hardened hands they grab your frail arms and drag you to march with them. One stood behind, with his gun breathing on your back; daring you to step out of line.

You walk for a few days with them, you’ve lost track at this point. Your feet ache as they march you on, with infrequent stops. They allowed breaks to eat but there was never enough for you. Your stomach growled as you were nudged in the back by a gun warning you to go faster. You know you need to act soon if you want the slightest chance of survival. If things continue going their way, you will die of starvation before you even reach the port. Maybe that’s their goal to walk you to your death. It cost less than a bullet, and they were doing this patrol stroll already.

The dawn nears, and you stumble from exhaustion. The soldiers watch you fall to the ground and curse at you to get up. You beg them that you are only 14 and can not go any farther without resting. Pleading to these heartless men to allow you a break. They agree finally, and also set up a camping spot to sleep before they finish the last stretch.

Laying down your heart races at what’s to come under the darkness of the night. I won’t let them win Imma. You swear over and over again. The moon rises higher over the horizon, giving light to the unthinkable.

You’ve been crafting this plan all day and if things go wrong, you are signing your death wish. The soldiers are snoring, now is the chance to act quickly. You creep out into the trees and find the biggest rock you are capable of carrying. Sneaking back into the makeshift tint the soldiers made you stand over the top of the first one. Without hesitation, you slam the boulder into his skull. Quickly grabbing his knife out of the sheath on his belt loop, you turn to the next soldier who is stirring in his sleep. You pause for a second, realizing that after tonight your childhood innocence will never come back. You breathe in, leaving no room for mistake and then shut your eyes as you slice into his neck. The soldier makes choking sounds as blood pours onto the floor. The last soldier is awake now and screaming in German. You grab the dead soldier's gun and turn towards the last remaining one. When you turn you’re greeted by a bullet flying into your shoulder. The pain is excruciating and sharp, but you cock the gun in your hands and fire into the soldier.

Breathing heavily you look around at the destruction around you. The soldiers lay lifeless on the ground and your body shivers as it comes to terms that you just took someone’s life. The wound on your arm starts to bleed profusely and you cut off a strip of the soldier’s jacket to wrap the site. You hurriedly rummage through their bags and grab what little food is left. Then head back into the woods for the ports. There was no time to stick around for the bodies to be discovered by more soldiers.

You trek through the woods throughout the night and reach the edge of the trees midday. You're almost certain your arm is infected and the pain shoots all the way through your right side. This doesn’t slow you down as you know help can be obtained once safe in Sweden. You can see the clearing where the port lays and a smile breaks across your face as you realize you made it. Grasping your shoulder you start hobbling for the ports shouting, “Gerda! Gerda!”. When you break through the trees your smile falls. Tan and red uniforms swarm the port, patrolling for runaways. You see them escorting Jews off of Gerda. They’re handcuffed, heads hanging as they are led to their unavoidable death. Before you can turn around and run back to the safety of the trees, a soldier spots you. He shouts in German, as you disappear in the trees.