New Beginnings

• Bronte Collins, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

I sat reading a book, and I didn’t hear the front door opening. I looked up to see my father leading a scruffy girl behind him. She wore a torn dress, it was faintly pink and looked much too small for her. She immediately gave me the impression of a mouse; she was timid, quiet and winced when I put my book down with a thud.
“Maria? This is Edith, she will be...staying with us,” my father said uncertainty, glancing at my mother who just walked in.
“Tell her, Maria will understand,” my Mother said. My father looked me in the eye.
“Well Edith is Jewish and she will be staying with us until the war ends,” Father said adding that her family were killed and she was alone. I was disgusted, and angry about how unfair it was. My anger melted into guilt, and sympathy for the girl standing in front of me, half my size. I hated Hitler, he caused people to hunt down innocent Jews like her. Why? Who knows, the cruel mind of the man will forever be a secret, known to perhaps a select few. Of course she would stay in my room, company would be nice. My father nodded gratefully and motioned for me to lead her to my small room.
My mother lead Edith to my room. She just had a much needed bath, and instead of the torn dress she arrived in, she was wearing one of my own dresses.
Edith sat somewhat gracefully onto my bed. “I’m really sorry about your family, want to tell me about them?” I said hesitantly.
Edith looked surprised at being spoken to but after a minute of thought she spoke, “Well, there was Emanuel, they took him and Father to a work camp. We heard them coming and... he told me, Mother and baby Sura to hide in the wardrobe.”
Edith paused, choked by her tears. It took a minute but she regained herself and continued, “There was a panel behind, it only fit me and Sura. Mother took her chances in the wardrobe and...they came and they took Emanuel and Father then shot her,” there were now tears streaming down her face. But she was determined to finish her story.
“There we waited, perhaps it was days, but I was terrified to leave. I finally took the courage to leave. I left Sura there and came back with some bread, but she became sick and...” She had now lost control and was shaking and sons escaped her throat. I wrapped my blanket around her frail, thin body. “It wasn’t your fault,” I tried to comfort her. “No one blames you, maybe...” I thought of the way I had acted, how I whispered to my friends about the Jews at school. “Maybe I could have a new start?” Edith said in her thick accent. I thought about what she said. “Yes, a new start for both of us,” I said, despite my overcome emotions, “That would be a good place to begin.”