Nazis 1, Jews 0

• Dina Trigenis, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2016

I once lived in a small, cosy cottage with my mother and my little sister. I used to live a life of freedom. But one day… it all changed.

We solemnly walk in large groups and I recognise people from our street. I lift my hand to wave, but my mother forces it down. Soldiers surround us, overpowering us with their perfect posture. They yell aggressively in a foreign language, not daring to loosen the grip on their guns. I clasp my hand around my mother’s delicate fingers and don’t let go, my sister does the same. In the distance, I hear feint crashes and pleading screams. I turn to my mother and ask,
“Where are we going?”
But all she does is squeeze my hand tighter and softly whispers in my ear,
“Don’t worry, everything will be okay soon.”
I trust my mother’s reassuring words, like I always have.

We have been walking for quite some time and I still don’t know where to. It’s hard to understand a lot of things when you’re just a 9 year old boy. Perhaps we are being taken to a safer place? Well it better be, because all of this walking is making me exhausted.

Trees are no longer in sight and we are faced with a steep hill that leads to deserted train tracks. I glance over at the Nazi officers, they make eye contact with each other and nod.
Suddenly, guns are vigorously fired and everyone is running.

My mother lets out a fearful shriek and pulls me and my sister tightly against her body. Deafening screams and gunshots, as loud as thunder, pierce through my ears. There is no chance of escaping now, not when the Nazi’s have us more exposed than ever.


I fail to prevent the droplets that form in my eyes and trickle down the side of my face. As I glance over to my sister, she cries,
“Help, help me!’
I reach out for my mother’s hand but the officer is too quick and he shoves her to the ground, dragging her towards the forest.
“Mum! You can’t leave us, please,” I cry in pain.
“Take care of your sister,” she hopelessly yells, as the distance between us increases.
“Mummy, where are you going?” My sister whimpers.
A feint gunshot echoes from the forest, I start to feel lightheaded.

I am sitting on the train, my sister in my arms, just like my mother would do if she were here. We despairingly sob, until there are no more tears to cry. I am frightened, but I know I must do everything in my power to protect her, to make my mother proud.

My mother taught me that there is good in everyone, although these filthy-minded, German Nazis are criminals. I guess there are just some people in the world with no heart. When will the score between good and evil become even?