Cell Block D
1 - home
A mouse scuttled across a large empty floor. Dust rolled under its tiny feet as is moved, swiftly, clumsily. There was an immense bang as a hard, wooden door flew open. A voice, female, boomed down at the mouse in a foreign tongue as it ran for cover behind the door, sqeaking quietly. The door slammed shut beind a young man, who stomped relentlessley over the undisturbed dust on the floor. Linda Iero threw three more bags onto a small, fat sofa and slumped with a dramatic sigh next to them. A cold, small hand reached up onto the pale, young woman's forehead and she mopped her brow, complaining silently at her son about how tired and hungry she was. Frank smiled to himself as he turned away from his mother. He clicked a metal switch on the kettle and began making two cups of tea for him and his companion.
The couple sat in an unawkward, unbroken silence over their tea, both lost in a deep chain of thought.Both shared the same nagging sense of fear; they could be caught. They could be taken. They could be seperated. Yellow star.
However, amongst their fear was a strong hope. Hope that they could leave their new home as free people. Hope that the Nazi party would fall prey to other parties.
It wasn't much hope. They were only two people. Two insignifigant people. Two blemishes on the plans for a perfect race. Aryans. Blonde, blue eyed super human beautiful people. Yellow star. Jews were not part of the plan for a perfect race. They were brown haired, black eyed ugly criminals who were intent on sucking out all of the good from the world with their evil. They, of course, would be the downfall of the Aryans that the Nazis were breeding. The solution to this problem? Ethnic cleansing. Mass extermination. Murder of the Jews.
It would be a lie to say that the Jews were the only infection attacking the perfect world; black people, homosexuals, gypsies, soviet POWs, roma, the disabled and mentally ill, freemasons and Jehovah's Witnesses were all set to be wiped out. Frank was vermin. He was no better than the mouse that cowered, unseen by him, behind the door.
His knuckles whitened as his grip on the mug grew harder. He turned cold at the thought of his friends and family being treated as rats. Linda broke the silence with a sigh.
"Come on Frank, let's move in."
Alone, Frank walked into a cold, dark room. He smiled as he looked around.
"The boudouir." he whispered to himself. The exploration of his bedroom took less than five minutes. A makeshift bed hid a couple of broken floorboards and some dusty boxes.A small window was the only light source in his room apart from a few candles which had been left in a drawer for him. The sixteen year old paused for a moment, pulling a picture out of his bag. He looked upon the black and white photo, happiness washing over him as he whispered "Bob." Robert Nathaniel Bryar, Frank's best friend. He was fighting for Frank. He was fighting for linda. He was fighting to save the Jews. To save the other victims of the Shoah; the death that faced half the population. Bob was a good man. Frank so wished he could join him right then; to be with his best friend and fight against the nazi power. He couldn't; how would Linda survive on her own? She'd be hunted down and sent to the death camps within days.
Bob wasn't a jew. He was a christian. He could still remember when Bob would buy him food from the local shop because Frank couldn't face up to the owner after seeing a nazi sign on the door. They'd eat together, sitting on the cold stone steps of a hotel that had been closed down. Bob always used to ruffle Frank's hair playfully and smile at him, his mouth full of food. Bob was a proper friend. The kind of friend who stays up with you while you throw up in their bathroom. Who lets you use their toothbrush to get rid of the taste. Who keeps your secrets locked away where no one coud ever find them. Who goes on to live everyday with you as if it were the last time they'd see you. He was a good person; the kind who paints houses for the neighbours, who looks after his mother while she's sick, who fights to save the lives of an entire race.
Frank missed Bob.
The couple sat in an unawkward, unbroken silence over their tea, both lost in a deep chain of thought.Both shared the same nagging sense of fear; they could be caught. They could be taken. They could be seperated. Yellow star.
However, amongst their fear was a strong hope. Hope that they could leave their new home as free people. Hope that the Nazi party would fall prey to other parties.
It wasn't much hope. They were only two people. Two insignifigant people. Two blemishes on the plans for a perfect race. Aryans. Blonde, blue eyed super human beautiful people. Yellow star. Jews were not part of the plan for a perfect race. They were brown haired, black eyed ugly criminals who were intent on sucking out all of the good from the world with their evil. They, of course, would be the downfall of the Aryans that the Nazis were breeding. The solution to this problem? Ethnic cleansing. Mass extermination. Murder of the Jews.
It would be a lie to say that the Jews were the only infection attacking the perfect world; black people, homosexuals, gypsies, soviet POWs, roma, the disabled and mentally ill, freemasons and Jehovah's Witnesses were all set to be wiped out. Frank was vermin. He was no better than the mouse that cowered, unseen by him, behind the door.
His knuckles whitened as his grip on the mug grew harder. He turned cold at the thought of his friends and family being treated as rats. Linda broke the silence with a sigh.
"Come on Frank, let's move in."
Alone, Frank walked into a cold, dark room. He smiled as he looked around.
"The boudouir." he whispered to himself. The exploration of his bedroom took less than five minutes. A makeshift bed hid a couple of broken floorboards and some dusty boxes.A small window was the only light source in his room apart from a few candles which had been left in a drawer for him. The sixteen year old paused for a moment, pulling a picture out of his bag. He looked upon the black and white photo, happiness washing over him as he whispered "Bob." Robert Nathaniel Bryar, Frank's best friend. He was fighting for Frank. He was fighting for linda. He was fighting to save the Jews. To save the other victims of the Shoah; the death that faced half the population. Bob was a good man. Frank so wished he could join him right then; to be with his best friend and fight against the nazi power. He couldn't; how would Linda survive on her own? She'd be hunted down and sent to the death camps within days.
Bob wasn't a jew. He was a christian. He could still remember when Bob would buy him food from the local shop because Frank couldn't face up to the owner after seeing a nazi sign on the door. They'd eat together, sitting on the cold stone steps of a hotel that had been closed down. Bob always used to ruffle Frank's hair playfully and smile at him, his mouth full of food. Bob was a proper friend. The kind of friend who stays up with you while you throw up in their bathroom. Who lets you use their toothbrush to get rid of the taste. Who keeps your secrets locked away where no one coud ever find them. Who goes on to live everyday with you as if it were the last time they'd see you. He was a good person; the kind who paints houses for the neighbours, who looks after his mother while she's sick, who fights to save the lives of an entire race.
Frank missed Bob.