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Thank You, Erika.
The Diary of a young Holocaust victim
Preface
This document marks my very first attempt at a novel. I wrote the first draft of this when I was thirteen, as a school assignment for our study on the Holocaust. I wrote the second draft at fifteen, since I felt it really deserved to sound better than it did. I've often thought of going back and rewriting it again (if for no other reason than to set some facts straight), but it's a nostalgic thing. I like seeing my childish style, and my innocent take on the tragic events that happened so long before I was born.
The rewrite included information gathered from the movie Life is Beautiful, and my Grandfather's war stories of freeing a death camp. He told me the smoke was white. He never forgot that.
Figures the only original novel I've ever actually finished is verisimilitude. Sometimes I really hate my muse.
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Dear Diary,
I have to say, it's been a long day. I feel cold even though it's in the middle of summer! I don't know. It could be school. Most of my friends who are Jewish have left Poland. They must be afraid of Hitler. What other reason is there?
Well, I'm not afraid. I know I'm being bold for a small, ninth-grade girl, but I am most definitely not afraid of "Herr Hitler."
There are still a great many Jews in my small high school and even more in my neighborhood. But, I still feel this terrible ominous feeling. A kind of cold that settles over me like a dark foreboding cloud. It feels like it has something to do with the Star of David I wear around my neck. What do you think? Should I be ashamed of my Jewish heritage?
Well, no matter what, I'm proud of it! I can honestly stick out my chest, whether they make us wear those yellow stars or not, and state to the world (and Hitler) that I am a Jew, and I'm proud of it!
So there, you stuck-up Arians!!!
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