Page 26

Dear Diary,
The days are slowly passing, each one reminding me of the inevitable. It's agonizing. The younger girls in my barrack still depend largely on my depleting strength while the older ones have become morbidly apathetic. That, I believe, is the worst state a person can be in. Dayna and Joli appear to be getting weak. I hope to God they're not falling ill. I give them my ration of food sometimes, and it seems to help a little. I've learned to ignore the terrible hunger for the most part, yet still I eat like a ravenous wolf when I can. One needs sustenance to survive.
Aaron and I act as a couple betrothed. I think we are, in a way. Our souls are tied in a way that can never come undone. He is the nourishment for my soul. I hope that when I'm gone, his wont starve to death without me.
Recently, the guards have thickened. I don't wish to know why, but I hate it even worse now. The smallest mistake and there's a whip to your back. My own has a collection of stripes already.

Page 27

Dear Diary,
Eight pages left. I might as well say something important. Well...
I'm pregnant. There. I believe that's worth knowing. When am I going to tell Aaron? There isn't enough food for a Jew eating for two. I suppose we'll both die then. I only found out a month ago. I hope the soldiers won't kill me for it. No doubt I won't be able to keep the baby. Maybe if I tell them that the father was a German? It's plausible. It's a good thing that after a year and a half of receiving orders from Germans, I can now speak their language pretty well. They still wouldn't understand. I remember that a young woman was two months pregnant when she arrived at the camp. She lived long enough to grow the belly, then soldiers started to question whether to kill her or not. Luckily for her, the father was Arian and the general's wife was barren. Her child survived as another's child, and she herself was spared. That is, till she was struck down in an accident, crippling her, and she was put in the gas chamber. I think the boy is a year old now. I believe I will do what is to be done when the time comes. Until then, I think my child will be reason enough for me to survive. Oh, what am I going to do with a child? I'm only sixteen. I guess many would have called