Verboten

• Melissa Jones, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2016

Desire changed my heartless behaviour. Such a love is forbidden, found in such a dark place, arduous. But I did, and I regret every single moment. I don’t, however, regret finding her that Saturday morning in the large warehouse, where Jewish women sorted through the belongings of prisoners at Auschwitz. I regret falling in love with a woman who was forbidden.

I first saw her, sorting through the dirty Jews clothes, placing them aside to be sent back to Germany. She wore a patterned piece of fabric wrapped around her head which was once full of hair, an accessory of many of the women. Her dress was shapeless, hiding her figure. I stood watching the women, a large gun in my hand, prepared to shoot anyone who disobeyed orders. She glanced up at me, a look of fear flashed across her face. She was terrified that I would shoot her. For a moment, I felt sorry for them, being forced to do such dirty work then I quickly remembered that they stole the war from us. They were the reason for our loss of power, they were evil and they deserved to be punished.

From that moment on, I would search for her. My eyes skimming the crowds each morning and then again in the afternoon when we performed roll call, desperately hoping to catch sight of her.

It wasn’t until weeks passed that I actually spoke to her. She was sitting alone eating breakfast, consisting of a makeshift form of coffee/tea, and bread given to them the previous night. Walking over to her with as much confidence as I could muster, I handed her an extra piece of bread, part of my ration. She was shocked at first, but gave me the smallest smile of appreciation once she realised what I had done. “Don’t tell anyone,” was all I said before walking away. Each day I would give her my left over bread and she would thank me quietly in that same tone, showing her fear of me.

My infatuation grew as time passed, and it had become obvious to others. I began to hide her, trying to spare her from doing any form of labour. An attempt to avoid her death. I failed however, my love for her blinded me. The other Nazi’s had noticed, and I was to pay for my ‘wrong doings’. I tried to reason, I didn’t want her punished. Instead they gave me a choice, they kill me or I kill her.

She stood towards the wall, her back facing me. I could hear her sharp, quick breaths as she attempted to calm herself. They held out the gun, an object of the decision I wanted to decline. Another gun was held to my head. With a shaky breath I turned, closing my eyes. My brain flashed with images of her, my heart ached. But it was nothing in comparison to the pain I felt when the trigger pulled.