War Torn Girl

• Paige Koch, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2015

A dark black abyss consumes me. The loudest and most excruciating sound of all is everywhere; silence. The feeling of being both mentally and physically numb is tedious, but painful at the same time. It’s relieving not being able to feel emotion, especially at a time like this, but without that there’s nothing, we have no feelings of anything, and that terrifies me most. Being left alone in your own thoughts is daunting, but there is no escaping the tangling web of your own mind. You start to wonder about the world as it goes on without you, while your stuck in a fragment of time, replaying itself over and over.

The sound of crumbled bricks being scraped apart breaks the painful silence and thankfully interrupts my thoughts. Muffled voices begin to make their way through. As light begins to breach through the cracks, I start to come back to reality. Before I know it everything that was once darkness is now bright, and blurred silhouettes move around before me. Lying there motionless, a strong arm wraps around me and picks my fragile body up out of the rubble before sitting me down on the gutter of the road.

People huddle around me, trying to assess my state, though I pay no attention. I am too busy tyring to make out the ruins surrounding me. What was once a lovely street full of families is now torn and destroyed by war. The Germany I once knew hardly recognizable. Little fires are everywhere you look, like bon fires, but without the comforting barrier of control. There are people here and there, coughing and crying, covered from head to toe in blood and dust. When I realise I am the only familiar person around I start to panic. My family; where is my family?

“No, no no no no.” I mumble fast, scattering around on the spot, looking for any signs of them.

“Miss calm down, can you tell me your name please?” A man squatting in front of me asks.

“My name… name ah, Annelies Biermann.” Not able to concentrate, I barely make eye contact with the man, too indulged in scanning around for my family.

“Check the list for Biermann.” The man orders, his husky voice demanding.

Moments later a message comes back stating there is no other Biermann’s on the list as of yet, meaning my family is yet to be found. I am alone. There is only a slim chance now of getting my family back, any of them. My vision is blurred yet again, tears brimming in my eyes. The most frightening thought is being alone, especially when you are only fourteen. The bloodline must run on.

What will become of me? Am I an orphan? I need my parents, my older sister. The Holocaust is over; the country will mend, but what about me?

“WE GOT ANOTHER ONE.” A voice yells. I frantically spin around to see whom it is.

I gasp. “Dad…”