Warias

As the sun roasted the surface of the earth, the sweat from my head slid down my face to the tip of my tongue as I tried to quench my never-ending thirst. My heart was pumping furiously as I knew they were coming. My life had been tortured ever since I was born. Every day I would travel at least 5 miles, stopping at nearby villages for food and water; hiding my identity. It was the year 1941; it had looked as though the war was never going to end. Two years ago, my family was taken into the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. We were living peacefully. My brothers and sisters were too young to go. My parents had once told me that they both had escaped when I was extremely young. But they couldn’t survive for the second time… It had been a long time since I saw my family. Lost, lonely and hungry for days now and it looked as though my time had come to an end.

Torture was the word to describe it. I had heard about how vicious, how violent the concentration camps were. I knew that if you had entered that; there is no escape at all. Everyday, innocent women with young children get beaten like soft clay. They are treated extremely harshly during the dark, heart frozen nights. Some villager told me that men who had blonde hair were hanged. A delicate tear slowly slithered down my cracked skin on my right cheek, hoping for freedom. My tongue had started to dry out as if there was a desert in my mouth. Unintentionally, I was traveling though a forest which I heard that it never rains. The trees had long withered arms with sharp claws of a ferocious lion. I had bumped into small creatures, munching away on some meat that had a wild stench. As it was not my businesses, I had needed to take a different route so that I don’t get in the way of anything. My presence had led me to a gloomy swamp. There was something sinister about this place, as if I was I being watched by something or someone. The water had all dried up and the sun was directly above my roasted head. There...