Short Passages

The Nazis

It dances in front of me, as if making fun of me. It's red like blood and powerful with strength. No on dares to go near it, after all, it burns.

My eyes feel parched, dry and unbearable itchy, but I continue to stare unblinking. Afraid that I would be punished if I missed a nanosecond of the happenings. 

The air smelt of ashes and burnt paper. Dust molecules wafted around me as more red flared. I stood, devoid of any emotions other than hopelessness as I burned the scene into my eyes. Engraving the memory into my mind and labelling it as unforgettable.

I felt beads of sweat trickle down my forehead as I watched. Blinking only once very minute. Heat swarmed around me, enveloping me with it's invisible embrace and keeping me rooted to my spot. 

My ears felt deaf, but it was evident that they weren't as I listened to the sounds of screams and pleads of agony. I wanted to scream too. I wanted to pounce up and crash into those empty souls. I really did, but I knew I wouldn't last a millisecond.

The intimidating flags flapped in the wind. They waved it around after each drop as if reminding us what they were. A soupy red just like blood, a blank circle and that one black logo named, Swastika.

Slowly. Surreptitiously. I lifted one foot off the ground. My right foot moved with my instincts as I stepped forward. No one stopped me as my limbs began working again. Gears turned in my mind and my heart leapt in my chest. My stomach churned uncomfortably as the pit of it finally filled up with something other than hopelessness. 

Determination. 

My lips hardened into a thin line as I took another step forward. No hands were stopping me. No one was watching me. Instead they were all too focused on the human vessels that lifted yet another and dropped it mercilessly into the eager fire.

Desperation.

My eyes never left the pile. The pile that burned in the growing fire that ate more and more and still, was as famished as ever. For a split second, my eyes darted to the horrifying soulless humans that worked and worked without a sweat, feeding the mad fire.

Larger and larger the fire grew. It was towering and I knew that I had to be quick. 

Reassurance.

Paper was burning. Each collection of papers would disappear and with it, information that would never be able to be retrieved again. I knew this, but my legs were working too slowly. I was a girl, so what? Children had kicked, punched and beat the life out of me, like the ragged doll I was. Why was I here? Because I was a human with every right to live. I was born for a reason, a set goal and an aim that I would complete. I was bullied, but I was still living. I put up my first fight and I had won. They left me and never came back. And for a good reason that was.

I was not a member of the fastest racing team for no reason.

Aim.

I was inching closer and closer. No one had realised. No one... yet. I still had hope. I still had a goal. I had a chance. I began to accumulate speed.

Final.

I burst with the speed and as fast as lightning, dashed to the fire. A breath of heat hit me as soon as I went as close as I dared. The fire was tickling me with its fearsome fingers and momentarily, I froze. The fire flared and touched my cheek. Pain lashed out at me then, but I knew I had yet to accomplish my task. I reached out a hand towards the book that was yet to turn completely into crisp.

There was an abrupt outburst. The warning was clear, but I only stopped when buff hands clasped my tiny body. Crushing the thousands of bones I had. I began to feel moisture prick at my eyes, but they disappeared as fast as they appeared for the heat had dried them away. 

A cold metal was placed on my temple, but I didn't fear. I grinned and closed my eyes as a peace offering. Today was my end, but a right for it as I had accomplished my very meaning to live. Someone would find the book hidden in my jacket and I would live peacefully in heaven and away from hell. Hell that was the most fitting description for where my family and friends were at this very moment. I would wait for them above all others in the beautiful fluorescent clouds and they would come. We would live a new life and I would feel completed. I knew my circumstances, I took the risks and at least I accomplished my reason to live at the very end. 

I spoke my last words with my soft innocent voice. It sounded pathetic and like any threat from a young child like me, but it was what I needed to do. Knowing that I didn't regret my short-lived life.

"Hitler. I hope you become an old man who loses everything and withers away in pain."

I didn't even hear the gunshot as a gargantuan weight of pain flashes and disappears in an instant.

I left with one thought in mind: I am glad that I had lived.

Inspired by the wonderful book by Markus Zusak: The Book Thief