HEAR MY VOICE

• Mary Ajo , Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2019

I plopped down on the warm shimmering sand and watched the white foamed waves slap back and forth against the old light house. I watched satisfyingly as the tides stormed towards the shore, dampening the sand around the oceanfront. I stood up, feeling the sand tickle the soul of my foot and squinted against the sun as it pours out its golden rays like a pot of molten lava. Even with the strong wind whipping against my face and the occasional wave of intense sunrays, I saw the bottle. Peeping from under the blanket of waves, the glass bottle was hardly visible. Before anyone else saw, I bolted to the object, running as fast as I could in the thick sand. I caught it before the waves took it away, hugging it to my chest and running back to the safety of my umbrella. Carefully, I unlocked the red cap from the bottle and squeezed my fingers in, revealing a crumbled paper with black calligraphy embedded in the sheet. I slowly unravelled the folded paper, smoothed it out and started reading. The scrawly calligraphy made it difficult to read, but the title was clear. “1946 WW2”. I continued to read it:

“Whoever is in possession of this precious letter, I ask you to read this carefully and bring awareness. My name is Josephine Mebotivsh, and I am one of the few surviving prisoners in Mauthusen. They tortured us, made us work for hours a day and worst of all, they killed my brother. My beautiful brother Johnathon was, like many, shot in the head for stealing some driftwood. When he was on his deathbed and muttering his last words, I promised him that I would make them pay. I tried. But the Nazi’s, I tell you, are not human. What person sane or insane, kills a young boy trying to survive. They are not human, they are worse than animals. They are monsters. They took away my family, my brother, my friends, my self-worth, my esteem. They took away my life. I have felt nothing so deep, nothing so cutting as sorrow. My anger is white and hot, and I will not stop stealing, I will not stop my disobedience, and I certainly not stop trying to fight for my rights. I am human, they are monsters and what you do with this letter will determine what you are.”

I read and re-read, certain of what to do. I held my head high letting the warm breeze encompass around me like a comforting blanket. Whatever it takes, I will make sure that this girls voice is heard. I will make sure no person ever experiences such a disaster. Whispering this tragedy is not enough, because her voice had a million reasons to shout.