Gated In

• Oliver Friedmann, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2011

Esther gazed at the man in front of her. His lyrical voice resonated through the dimly lit hall. He spoke with confidence, yet the solemnness that surrounded the gathering diminished any sort of positivity. Men and women wept for their loved ones, a mere memory now.

“We all here together, experiencing the same sadness,” the man said. He paused.
“But we are not weak. We must come together and be as one. Let us try to fight this evil.”

Allec was his name. His frail fingers twitched as he spoke. His fragile demeanour reminded the audience of his dreadful history. He had escaped from camp in the months before. He had escaped the grips of death. But there was no turning back. His family could not be saved. As they ran for sanction, Allec’s wife and child were captured. He watched from a distant hill for days, waiting, wishing that he would be reunited with his wife and young son. It was 5 days before Allec witnessed his family being marched to the chambers. The crowd knew that his story ended there.

The audience all understood Allec’s predicament. Most had lost loved ones in the war so far. But Cyrus acted as a flicker of hope.

“You all know my story, and you all understand the ramifications of being Jewish at this time. But you all know there are things we can do”

Esther sat there, cross-legged contemplating her situation. Questions paced through her mind. What could she do to help her mother and older sister? And how could she continue her normal life knowing the terrors that lay behind those Nazi fences?

“A hero is not someone who fights or wins or is victorious,” Allec’s voice had become louder. “But the one who sticks up for what he know is right”. Esther could feel the room lift as his voice began to boom. “I am not here to tell you to throw your life away. But I am asking you to understand our need to fight, for we have done nothing wrong.”

People moved and talk all around after the speech. But Esther stayed there, twiddling her fingers and thinking through what this man had said. The bustle did not crack through her sub-conscious thought bubble. She got to her feet still entranced, gazing at her toes. Esther shuffled along the wooden floor, her tiny sandals filling the gaps between her toes. As she made up her mind, she lifted her head and began to pace home.
No one ever ventured anywhere near the Nazi’s camps. Everyone in the community knew where they were, but not one person had tried to get close to the fences. Esther grabbed her backpack, and within minutes she had ran out the door again. The brisk wind whistled past her face as she ran, eyes fixed on the distant blur of her destination. People whizzed past, but no one questioned what Esther was doing.

Hours later, she reach it. She gazed at the barbed fences, silver and sharp. Men approached her, their green and red uniforms immaculate.

“Excuse me sir,” she said, her young voice shaking. “Do you have my mummy and sister in there. I really want to see them.”

They didn’t say a word. Silent tears began to stream down her face as the men grabbed her, and dragged her inside.