Next In Line

• Luka Zekanovic, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2020

I wake up early in the morning. It feels like its 06:00am. The sun has just recently risen, and the chimneys are pouring out smoke. I can’t believe I slept even for an hour. My bed is warm and so is my body. The bed is the width of my body, just right. I am the first prisoner to wake up in our cabin. There are four of us in one row, and four opposite me. Seven of the eight prisoners are Jews from Poland, the eight prisoner is a Hungarian Jew who was just recently captured. Slowly, one by one, the prisoners begin to wake up. I try to stand up top stretch, but I can barely see from the smoke coming from my breath, the fog lifts up to the room, like a cloud. My whole body aches, from head to toe, I can barely walk. It hurts to move my neck, to step. The smell is unbearable, as if a dead cow has been laying above our roof. Silence bears over us, the hint of yelling notifies us that our brothers and sisters are already being baked. As I’m attempting to warm up my muscles for another hard day of labour, a NAZI guard busts in through the front door ‘’BANG!’’ I quickly stand up straight and so do my fellow prisoners. ‘’CLOTHES ON NOW. SHOES ON NOW. YOUR BRAINS ARE ABOUT TO GET FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED’’. I knew what was awaiting me. My death. In less than an hour I would be standing in a dark chamber, inhaling toxic smoke, slowly deteriorating. I rush to get my clothes on, I’d rather die to gas than to a 9mm to my forehead. In 30 seconds all eight of us prisoners were standing in front of our beds, which were perfectly made, ready for gas. We walk in a single file line out of our cabin, following strict orders from the NAZI guard. We walk past cabins identical to ours. We’re the second group of today that is being sent to the chamber. Through the cracks of the cabins we can see fellow prisoners mouthing their last words to us. We can only see mouths, no faces. Still, silence is the loudest sound of the day. We reach the main chamber of Auschwitz. It’s black on the inside with run down patches of grey on the outside. It’s shaped like a box. Outside the door a massive sign hang. In a colourful ordeal it says ‘’COME IN FOR A GOOD TIME’’. Sounds fun, looks fun, smells horrendous. We stand along the side of the bunker, the first few prisoners are checking of their names and private details. I check off my name and my date of birth. As well as the city I’m born in. On top of the paper it says the date, 8th of May 1945. The day me and my wife met. the happiest day of my life.