Francine & Margot ✓

4

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Margot,

   Do you know how afraid I was?

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Saying goodbye to you that morning was the hardest thing I'd ever done, and watching you slip away through that window made it feel like you'd only been a dream the entire time.

I was so tempted to go with you. I hope you know that. I never wanted to be left behind. I would give anything to have had the strength to run.

Instead, I told myself we would be safe. I told myself we would not be bombed or captured or tortured or killed. I told myself, as I played with the ring on my finger, that I would see my beloved Margot again.

But I was a fool. They found us that very day, before my mother had even finished packing. I heard the gunshots and screaming. I locked the door to my room and my hands were shaking violently.

Blood rushed into my ears and I could hardly hear the soldiers racing up the stairs, shouting commands in a language of cruelty that I would never understand had I known how to speak every language on Earth. I slid into a panel in my closet to hide, knowing that it was hopeless. I felt sure I was going to faint, but instead I took silent small breaths and prayed.

I said something like a prayer to you. I prayed that you would find safety somewhere, that you would live on in my honor as well as yours. I prayed that you would remember me and live life happily. I prayed that you would forgive me for staying behind and giving myself killed. I prayed that you would always know how much I loved you.

Then, I prayed for my family. I prayed for the baby my mother had terminated before birth, to avoid trying to care for an infant in the height of a war. I prayed that she be forgiven for this - for ending a life before it began in order to protect me. I prayed that if she lived, she would never find out that I knew.

I prayed for my father, who had done everything to keep us safe. I prayed for the man who would lock himself in the bathroom and drink every night because he was too afraid of war to stay sober but too afraid of disappointing his wife to let her see. I prayed for the silent soldier who hid Jews and forged papers so that they could find a new start somewhere else. I prayed for the man who burned his family name, who took his wife and daughter to safety, who risked everything in a desperate attempt to help his people.

Tears were welling in my eyes, then seemed to dry up all at once. I felt strangely numb - it was the shock of a girl coming to terms with her own death, I suppose. I grew strangely dizzy, feeling all the blood in my body rush up into my head as someone stormed into the room.

Yours,
Francine

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