Good luck homing pigeon

Chapter twenty two-cutting it too close-(28th December 1944)

Hey, sorry it took longer than usual to update. The song above is 'Baby, it's cold outside'.

It wasn't until Janek began getting his hands on some of the more confidential reports that I'd known what the date was again. The twenty eighth of December, 1944. I'd turned eighteen over three months ago, and Angelo nineteen. If I'd celebrated Briana's birthday, she'd be twenty one. The first of our current generation to become an adult. It made me think back to my sixteenth birthday-constantly comparing her brilliant party to my memorable, yet nothing to her party. It was unbelievable! I'd spent valuable time, worrying and comparing something that in the end, I should've felt altogether lucky to even have. Now there was another birthday gone and lost. It was little facts like those that made we wish the war would just end already. I didn't want to keep losing the big and the little moments that just passed me by here!

Sandrine was better-and by better, I only meant slightly less depressed than she was before. She still had her falls, but luckily it became easier to pick her back up. I could share my food with her, and happily know that we wouldn't be starving for much longer. But as my mood got better these days, everybody else's got worse. Hope had gone from dire, to non-existent altogether. People didn't suffer, they just waited. Stood, freezing on deaths door, waiting desperately for an answer. And when death himself would finally open up, he would welcome them with a special sort of warm, and carry them away. To a place free of pain, suffering and loss. Jerusalem's afterlife. It was the sort of place where Sabbaths and the Pass-overs were of the norm. The sort of place where Jews and Christians didn't have to be enemies, but common friends. Those who wanted to go hoped and prayed for it every day. Most of the soldiers would answer their prayers almost immediately. But I think deep down, there were a few still intent of extending our suffering a little longer. To keep us alive, just to torture us for as long as they felt like it.

Even though freedom was expected to come soon, I just couldn't shake the feeling that Janek was right. Hitler wouldn't give up his crusade without a fight. There had to be some sort of catch; one, last resort before help could come our way. But what was it? What could Hitler possibly do to make his mark of Europe? As if he hadn't already. Still, it was obvious that Janek was apprehensive about this. And who were we to question a man we'd so justly trusted for so long?

The block leader and Emil, well...we all knew from the beginning that their relationship was going to be a rocky one. Both of them were quick-tempered, called things as they saw them. It was inevitable that they were going to argue. Not like Angelo and I. He might've had impulse, but I still had just enough patience for both of us. Giving one another what we needed. So how would they manage when they were just too alike for each other's own good? I didn't know exactly, but there must've been something, deep down somewhere that kept them going. For later in the evenings, when Janek and Hiempi were long gone, Angelo and I had heard their reconciliation, too much for either of our preference. Still, it always made me wonder what their relationship would've been like if they'd gotten out of Auschwitz. Would he court her like a gentleman? Would she make him dinner every night? Could they ever have a child together? Well, I supposed for them it could've been crystal-clear. But to me, it was just a series of blurs. Not sure if they were real or not.

As for my cousin? Well, I was lucky enough just to know he was alive. And unbelievably, he was still working for the Commandant. Nick? Well, I didn't know Nick, and honestly I couldn't care less about what he did. As Angelo had told me, Auschwitz had done nothing but make him bitter, selfish and cold. Sure he'd survive, physically. But there was nothing that could save his soul now. Briana? I didn't know what Briana was doing nowadays. She could've gotten out of Birkenau for all I knew, and rented a room somewhere with her lover Dmitri. Mama? Nothing. Antonia, Alina? Nothing, nothing, nothing. I used to think I was intelligent; witty, clever. But it was moments like that which brought me down to earth. I wasn't clever, I was stupid. Just like Briana had said. Well, this stupid girl was still alive. And as soon as I got out of this prison, I was going to find out everything I'd been so sorely ignorant of.