Terror, sadness, confusion all the emotions that I have to bear in the place of no return. There are no smiles here, no happiness either, and no hope. Mama, Papa, and I came here about a month ago, in June of 1944. We were told that this new place was built for people like us, that we belonged here. I don’t think anyone belongs here. When we arrived, the men in army gear were holding guns. They started to take Papa and me away. I started to notice men went one way; women went the other. I quickly grabbed hold of Mama. I tried to hang on to her, but the soldiers were too strong. They ripped her away from me, even though I begged and pleaded.

“Don’t take Mama! Please! I love her!  I need her!” I cried at the top of my lungs. They didn’t listen, instead they pushed me to the ground. Immediately, my pants were filthy from the  sludge all around. Papa ran to her, trying to hug her one last time, but the soldiers stopped him, shooting him right then and there. POW! The gun gave off a loud roar, and Papa fell to the ground. Dead. The soldier didn’t even care. He stopped and I could see his cruel smile, as he casually walked away.

He murmured, “Pathetic Jew.”  Another soldier picked up Papa’s lifeless body and dragged him away.

“What have you done to Papa?”  I yelled, drenched in my tears. Yet another soldier jabbed his gun into my stomach. As I fell to the ground, the world started to go as black as a starless midnight sky. The last words I remember hearing before going unconscious were from Mama.

Sobbing, she said.“Please don’t take my precious son, my Daniel! Please! You took my husband! You took my son! You took everything from me!” I woke up not knowing what time it was.  An older gentleman with a kind face gazed into my grieving eyes. He was wearing a dirty black and white prisoner's outfit, and he had no hair. I soon realized that I was wearing one as well. I put my hand on my head only to feel nothing - bald as an old man.

“What happened? Where am I?” I asked in a quiet voice to the older man,  “And who are you?” The man looked at me, slowly forming his words.

“I am Ari,” he replied in a gruff voice “Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly where we are. I was at temple with my wife yesterday, and a few soldiers came into the synagogue, shouting they were taking us to a special place. Little did we know that this hell of a place would be it. When we got here, they picked us up and put us in these horrible rags then shaved off all our hair. Who would do such a terrible thing to a youngster like you? How old are you, son?”

“My name is Daniel. I’m eleven years old. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied shyly. As I got up to shake Ari’s hand, I felt a gut-wrenching pain in my left rib cage. “Ah!” I yelled; it felt like it was broken.

“Easy there,” Ari said as he pushed me lightly back onto the old ground. “That soldier sure did a number on your rib. Please, rest up. It’s late anyway. The good news is it’s not broken.” Ari sounded like he knew what he was talking about. I gave a sigh of relief.

“How do you know so much?” I asked Ari.

“My wife and I own a library; reading is the only activity that keeps me busy!” His tone lightened up a little bit.

“Well, if you know so much can you kindly explain to me what on Earth is going on? Where is Mama? Why did they kill my papa?” I started to cry as I said this, I wish this was all just a horrible dream.

“Sadly, I don’t know that, I hope my sweet wife Deborah is alright as well. I hope those monsters didn’t lay a finger on her!” I could hear the anger in his voice.

“Seriously, though son get some sleep, your rib needs healing, don’t know what those creeps will do to us tomorrow.

“You’re right Ari, I’ll try to sleep. I just hope my mama is okay.” I closed my eyes trying not to think about everything.

“You and me both,  boy,” Ari said softly “I hope Deborah is okay, too.” Ari laid down on the ground next to me. He closed his eyes, too.

“Get up!” A soldier kicked my back. I tried to get up, but he kicked me again. I fell to the ground. He started to laugh. The soldier walked away. Before I started to cry, Ari walked by and put his hand down towards me. I grabbed his hand, and he helped me up. My rib still hurt only not nearly as much.

“Daniel, are you feeling better this morning?” He asked in a very caring way. He was a big man with large arms and was very tall. He might have been the tallest man I had ever met. He looked to be about two meters tall. This was strange considering he looked to be in his early 60s.

“My rib still hurts,” I said in a sad voice.

“It will for a while; anyway let’s check this place out,” he said and then quickly looked around. He whispered this last part, “It doesn’t look like there is anyway out. We are surrounded by barbed wire.” Ari made sure no one could hear him.

“Are you sure we can’t get ou-” Ari quickly put his hand over my mouth.

“Quiet!” he said firmly to me.

“There are soldiers everywhere! If they hear you, they could seriously hurt you and me.” He explained this emphatically.

“I am sorry.” I instantly understood.

“Don’t mention it,” he said clearly not as angry as before.  “Let's just find something to eat.” I followed Ari and merged into a big herd of people. My stomach was now hurting for two reasons. Not only does my rib hurt, but I realize I am starving.  When we finally got into the circle of what looked like a million people, there was one soldier standing on a stool. He was yelling at the crowd.

“Listen, you mistakes! This is your punishment! This is what you and your people deserve! We are nice enough to even give you coffee for breakfast. Drink up you peasants; you will be out doing manual labor all day until lunch and then all the way up until dinner.” The soldier yelled at everyone. I started to get angry myself, I don’t even like coffee. Besides, why do I even deserve this? What did all these people do?  

“Ari?” I nudged his thigh considering I couldn’t reach his shoulder.

“Yes?” He looked down to reply.

“I don’t like coffee. Mama and Papa never let me drink it,” I told him.

“Well I am sorry Daniel, but I’m afraid your going to have to drink it today. We may not eat for many hours.”

“Okay Ari.” I reply to him. I slowly sipped the coffee. It tasted terrible but it filled me up a little bit. A few minutes after I finished my coffee the soldiers started to scream again.

“Follow us! Your work starts now.” When we walked around the corner from the large camp, we saw tons upon tons of large heavy metal pipes.

“Now! You will load up this truck and all of these trucks with pipes. Begin you horrible beasts!” The soldier yelled.

“This is pointless.” Ari murmured under his breath. With that, the butt of one of the soldier’s rifles found the crown of Ari’s bald head and blood rushed down his emotionless face and dripped onto the filthy ground. He managed to grab me by the shoulder, keeping me from doing something that would have resulted in a worse fate for us both.

In time, both of our physical injuries healed, my ribs and Ari’s head, although Ari had a telltale scar that served as a reminder to never disobey the soldiers or even make eye contact. Our days were started with coffee, which as the days grew shorter and colder, I found comforting. Because I was young and Ari was so big and muscular, despite his age, we made a great team and worked well together. Even the soldiers recognized it, so they never tried to separate us. Early on, I would count the number of rusted pipes we carted onto the trucks, ripping our hands to shreds, in the process. Eventually, I stopped counting, as it was like counting the number of grains of sand on the beach. Ari and I kept each other sane by singing songs and telling each other stories about what we would do when I was reunited with Mama and he with his beloved Deborah. Ari made me almost believe I could smell the delicious rugelach Deborah would make him and he would playfully steal from their window sill, when she wasn’t looking. In a way, I started to view Ari as my family. We gave each other hope.

I lost track of time, but knew winter was approaching when we experienced our first snowfall. For a moment, I forgot where I was and let a single snowflake float onto my tongue. That moment of innocence was broken by my shadow, and that of Ari’s, which both appeared skeletal, compared to when we met. Although , our frailty beat the alternative, which for most meant an early grave. Every day, there were less and less of us. Some got visibly ill and others simply disappeared. That had become my new reality. Ari made the unbearable somewhat bearable. And then the day I will never forget…

It started like all the others, but I was a bit more chipper.

“Ari, I swear I smell Deborah’s raisin and cinnamon rugelach!” He smiled and said, “Soon, my dear boy, soon.”

We finished our coffee and headed to the pile of pipes which seemed larger than the day before. I had a theory that, at night, the German soldiers would dump all the pipes out of the trucks we loaded up during the day. If I was right, our work would never be done, a truly hopeless and circular task. The day was progressing like any other and then it happened. I went to grab one of the pipes from an unsteady pile and it triggered a chain reaction. Heavy pipes came crashing down, with one landing on the foot of the very guard who gave Ari his scar. Immediately, the guard raised the butt of his gun and was preparing a blow to my temple that would have surely ended my short life. I closed my eyes and thought of Mama and Papa. But, the fatal blow never occurred.

Ari grabbed the soldier’s gun and swung it violently against the side of his face. Blood corrupted the perfect blanket of snow. Before I could react, ten soldier’s began beating Ari mercilessly, amidst my screams. When they were done, he was completely unrecognizable. I rushed to him and lifted his head, kissing him and cried, “Don’t leave me, Papa”. I realized that’s what he had become to me. He responded, “Remember me, and I never will,” and then he breathed his last breath.

A few days later, and a few days late for my dear friend, Ari, the war was over. Soviet troops entered the camp and released those of us that survived many months, and, in some case, years of torture. When the men and boys were finally reunited with the women and girls, I looked anxiously for Mama. When I had almost lost hope, there she was, much thinner and older looking, but with the same beautiful smile I remembered in my nightly dreams. And she was holding hands with another woman I didn’t recognize, but somehow seemed familiar. Mama and I hugged tighter and longer than even in my dreams. When we finally broke our embrace, she introduced the friend who helped her survive the loss of Papa and separation from me.

She said, “Daniel, this is Deborah.”