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Run Away From Hell takes readers in a story about an escaped Jew from the Concentration Camps. Although the story is rather short, it packed with deepness.
I cannot help but wonder if God was dead. I know I should not think such horrible thoughts, but with everything that has happened, I am in doubt. Please forgive me, but I am only a young boy in a hurry, trying to run away from Hell. I had to keep running. I would send myself to Hell if I stayed. The moon covered its face in shame. It was good because the Germans could not see me easily in the dark, yet I scarcely saw either through the shadow infested forest. I traveled no paths save where ever I dragged my tired legs. The Devil's minions were after me. I could smell their sins of moral decay. Their hellhounds had my scent of being different, being a Jew. I could not recall suffering any harm because of my religion, yet I am just a boy. I wish my parents could live. I knew that I might never see them again, yet if God still exists I hope he heard my prayer to let them live. I had not seen them since we were separated when the Germans came to town. I do not know if they are alive. If they were not then please let them into your arms. Focused on escape, I tripped over a tree root. I looked up. In my view was a shabby wood house. I was saved. I rushed to my feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg, and rushed to the shelter. I would be safe. I knocked on the door. "Is anyone home?" A German lady opened the door. I assumed she was in her twenties, but she had eaten little so she appeared to be rather pale and weak. I guess the people I hated suffered too. "You poor thing," she said. She glanced around. "Quick, inside before they find you." She pulled me inside her warm home. I gazed around the living room and saw her daughter, about my age, sitting by the fire to get warm. The lady sat me next to the fire on a carpet. The kind lady pulled some German money from a bag and threw it in the fire. I guessed the money had become worthless. I had no idea the German people suffered this bad. I shook my head. Just because they suffered did not give them any rights to bring Hell on Earth to my people. They had no right at all. My anger had warmed me better than the fire. Then the fear from the pounding door took it all away. The lady pulled up the rug I sat on and opened a hidden storage place. "Quick, in here," she ordered as she grabbed my arm. She helped me get inside the hole. The door kept banging. I got inside the rather roomy hole. I sat there, listening and praying silently. "Now, don't say a word," she told me as she shut the door. The next thing I heard was rug being slapped over the trapdoor. From what I heard, the lady went to the front door and answered it. "Excuse me, miss," the German solider said in a stern voice, "but have you seen any escapees?" "As a matter of fact," she replied, "I got another one under the trapdoor." NOTE: Now that you have read this story, please keep in mind that I am NOT promoting Nazism or the killing of people because of their religion. This story was made to make readers sympathize with the people who died during this time. I would not be surprised if the story I wrote actually did happen. As a matter of fact, I bet this is a true story. |