Ashes To Dust Read online

  My stomach growls from lack of food but I press my hand on it to quiet it. I have already lost a lot of weight since the rules and regulations have been placed on the Jews. Since we’ve been in hiding, we have had to monitor and ration our food at a whole another level.

  I don’t want Alix to hear my stomach.

  In order to make sure he has enough food, I’ve been giving him my food in moderations. I have already cut my portions in half since I have started, but he needs to eat more than me.

  “Are you awake?” Alix asks me.

  I look over in the innocent eyes of my baby brother. “Yes, bub.”

  He’s only seven and has taken to the quiet life pretty easily considering his hyperactivity.

  “How many times did they march by tonight?” He whispers.

  We have made it a game to count how many times our street has patrolled on the nights that we can’t sleep. Which is pretty much every night.

  My nights are spent wondering what Milo is doing. If he’s thinking about me, if he remembers me. Most of the time, I’m worried about if he knows the truth about me.

  I shudder to think of the reality of that thought.

  I shrug in the darkness. “They all look alike. It’s hard to tell. I think there are a couple of groups of them doing the patrols tonight.”

  Which only means one thing. They have gotten a tip about Jews hiding and they will stop at nothing to find them.

  As soon as the words come out, I see a gust of fire fly through the air and set the building in front of us on fire. The flames are huge, blue and red with a mixture greens and yellows engulf the building.

  I flinch in my bed at the sight of something so horrific in front of me.

  A new feeling of helplessness takes over me.

  Fear strikes my whole body as the soldiers drag out little kids by their hair from the cellar of the building. These poor kids were living like mice in the cellar.

  “Just like mice!” A Nazi yells at the top of his lungs making me jump even more. “They multiply underground!”

  The kid is probably so used to being quiet that he doesn’t remember how to cry. He’s completely silent.

  That’s the scariest part.

  “What happened?” Alix begs pushing the thread-bare blankets off his little body.

  “Go back to sleep!” I beg.

  Our door is thrown open with just a little shred of light from the candle we use at night, our mother appears. “Anya! Alix, are you okay?” Our mother begs.

  Each of the kids that are dragged out of the cellar, are lined up in a straight line outside of the building on fire. That’s when a caravan drives up and the kids are shoved into the back of the caravan with little to no care.

  “They are probably going to the labor camp,” Alix murmurs with tears clogging his throat.

  I shake my head just as the caravan pulls away in front of us. Alix doesn’t need to know the truth.

  Chapter Six: Milo

  I’ve embraced the cold.

  Each time the wind gusts past me, I feel the bitter cold cut through my uniform. I shiver and try to curl in on myself in hopes of keeping warm.

  It doesn’t work.

  Nothing works.

  It’s been five months since I married Anya. I married her the day I met her, instantly falling in love with the most gorgeous dark-haired beauty I have ever seen in my life.

  It’s also been five months since I last seen her.

  I rush to Anya’s apartment in the morning hoping to see her. I have to see her. I have to tell her that I got called away for active duty and I’m going to be gone for a while.

  I bound up the stairs until I get to her front door of the apartments where she lives with her parents. I can’t wait to move her in with me and we can start our lives together. Our new lives.

  Of course, things are going to be on hold for a little bit as I’m being called away.

  “Anya!” I bang on the door.

  There’s no sign of movement on the other side of the door. “Anya!” I try again.

  There’s nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  “Anya?” I try again.

  For just a brief moment, I considered this might not be her apartment. But that was only for a second. I know this is where she lives.

  Our kiss and delicate love making is still on my mind.

  I can’t wait to do that for the rest of our lives.

  “Anya!” I cry out trying to get her attention.

  How could she just ignore me like that? After the night we shared, I can’t imagine why she would just ignore me.

  Oh my god, what if something bad happened to her? Fuck.

  I turn the doorknob with utter surprise to find it unlocked. I wouldn’t leave my door unlocked if I lived in this neighborhood. Oh, no.

  There’s too many things going on.

  “Anya?” I call out again.

  Nothing.

  Pushing open the door, I smell breakfast. It’s a faint smell of toast with light butter. Everyone is feeling the pinch of having butter being a hot commodity, we all know the smell of it.

  The apartment opens up to the kitchen area of the apartment. It’s not very big, but due to the recession, it’s a nice size. The kitchen has a little dining room table in the middle of it with a pile of mail right on the center of the table.

  There’s a tiny arch way leading into the sitting area, but what I see in the middle is enough to make me want to scream. How could I have been this blind?

  How could I have not known?

  Truthfully. I’m the biggest traitor of them all.

  I married a Jew.

  Throughout the past five months, I have gone through a period of hating myself and then hating Anya. I was weak for falling for a Jew. They are just as sneaky as the Fuhrer has said all along.

  Then there’s the guilt. It’s the guilt that keeps me up late at night. It’s the guilt that made me volunteer for a new assignment at a labor camp in Poland. The same country where the love of my life is probably hiding at.

  The same country where I, too, became stateless all because I fell in love with someone that I shouldn’t.

  “Stein!” The captain shouts at me.

  “Heil Hitler!” I greet with our formal greeting. “Yes, sir?” I call back, breaking my thoughts about Anya to pay attention to what he wants.

  The captain ignores me most of the time, I’m surprised he even knew my name, to be honest.

  At the time of recruitment, I was just another blond German man who fit in the Aryan race requirements. However, I’ve always been fast with running and I have an excellent shot record.

  My father, a die-hard Nazi official, pushed me in the role as soon as I could start walking. He was prepping me for the war about to start and instilling the ideologies needed to be the perfect soldier. I knew at a very young age, I was going to follow my father’s footsteps.

  Throughout primary school, my father would take me and my three brothers to a field to learn how to shoot. The Hitler Youth taught us how to shoot a gun for farther distances, how to be athletically able to fight.

  Needless to say, I’m at Auschwitz because my father pulled strings to get me off the front line. He didn’t want me to be on the front line, knowing that the camp would be essentially safer for me.

  Camp life is definitely different than being on the front line from what I have heard through the grape-vine.

  “You’re needed at selection. Go see the doctor at the front.”

  The captain points towards the front of the camp signifying he wants me to go now.

  I have been working with the doctor in helping with some ailments that are affecting the prisoners. Much more that, I have been keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t see Anya at the camp.

  If I see her, I worry about what that will mean for me.

  What that will mean for her health.

  Most prisoners have a life expectancy of months… What would I do if my wife came here?
r />   I would die. There’s no telling what the officials would say if they found out I married a Jewish woman.

  Shit.

  I hang my head, wrapping the bandage over a prisoner’s arm. She cut her arm on the rake she used in the yard.

  I’m sure the woman was once a pretty girl, now she looks half dead.

  “Be careful. We’re not here to babysit you!” The captain shouts over his shoulder, walking towards the doctor.

  Chapter Seven: Anya

  “They came in in drones and pulled them out of a cellar by their hair!” Jack states as he drops off our food the next day after the fire.

  My father nods and scratches his overgrown beard. “Things are not safe.”

  Jack winces. “Which leads me to why I'm here… Ivan, the Gestapo is coming to my house and office to ask if I know where the Jews are. It’s only a matter of time before they start following me. I can’t risk it!”

  I shake my head, hiding in my room with the door cracked open. There has always been secrets being told around me and if makes me nervous. If Jack doesn’t bring our food and rations, we’re going to die in here.

  I hold the picture of Milo, the only thing I have to remind me I didn’t dream up everything, and squeeze the image. If we die in here, Milo will never know how much I love him.

  “What are you saying?” My dad asks.

  “I think you know what I’m saying. Do you know they send Jewish-sympathizers to those places too? Are you trying to get me killed?”

  Jack said the last thing on a higher pitch than needed. Plus, if the Nazis are following him like he thinks, they would have been able to hear him. Is he trying to get us found?

  My mom steps up with her hands out as if she’s approaching a wounded animal. I have come to know she does this whenever she’s unsure about something. “Jack, we appreciate everything you’ve done for us and the sacrifices that you have made. However, you agreed to be our handler. Do you have a new one already picked out?”

  Jaco harrumphs under his breath. “No. No one will want to help a bunch of Jews such as yourself. Here are all of your things! I can’t protect you anymore but I’m hoping for the best for you.”

  Before I am able to say anything, he slams the door shut to the hiding place with a thud. The major indicator he doesn’t care about us anymore.

  Screw him.

  How could someone pretend to care and then not show any sign of appreciation or compassion? I was raised to show appreciation and to help care for others, Jack just threw us off to the wild.

  “What are we going to do?” I ask still hiding.

  My parents shrug then look over at the two bags Jack brought us. Mostly groceries and very little toiletries. Bathing is close to impossible while we’re in hiding, and I feel stinky all the time.

  I feel hopeless. The amount of shame and burden I feel as me choking on my heart which is currently lodged in my throat.

  Without Jack coming to help, there’s no one else. If he found someone else to come, they would face the same dangers Jack had. More than that, the amount of hostility and danger we would face through the implications.

  I hear what the Gestapo and all the elitist say and believe. They say we’re bleeding the country dry. We are the reasons why Germany isn’t on top.

  We are the rotting carcass on the society.

  It’s hard not to believe it.

  That’s all we’ve heard on the radio and read in the papers. The propaganda, which is being funneled, is filling everyone’s minds. Including my own.

  “How much food do we have?” My mom asks my father.

  They are standing around the kitchenette as dumbfounded as I am.

  “Enough for the week if we keep eating three meals a day…”

  My chest feels the pang of longing for what used to be my normalcy. Nothing is as it seems any longer and everything is going to get worse.

  We have been left here to die.

  “We could cut back to eating one time in the middle of the day…” My mom suggests on a shrug.

  In the beginning, I felt the strain on my parents’ marriage, but I’m seeing it now. My father has a ton of pride and the fact he can’t provide for us, is probably driving him crazy. I can’t remember the last time I saw my parents hold hands or hug. Not even a kiss.

  I fight back the guilt of not realizing this sooner. Could I have helped? I doubt it. There’s not much I can do. I can’t go back in time and make us not Jewish.

  “We have to feed the kids…” My dad admonishes with little room to argue.

  “The kids will definitely understand!”

  “Yes, dad! We understand. We need to ration our rations,” I interrupt.

  “Go to your room, Anya!” My dad says sternly.

  I stomp my food down on the floor harder than I should have. I want them to see I’m an adult, but I have a feeling I have made it worse. I’m a grown woman, damn it! I’m married, too!

  I have kept my marriage a secret this whole time, but I feel the need to validate my womanhood and my adult nature. My confession is on the tip of my tongue when I hear thunderous footsteps up the stairs leading to the very attic we are hiding in.

  The boots stomping is heavy. Heavy enough to know they don’t belong to a helper. They belong to someone who doesn’t care if we know they are here.

  Shit.

  We’ve been found!

  My eyes widen as the boot stomps multiply into more sounds of yelling and more boot stomping.

  I look over at my parents who shake their head and point to the floor boards we have raised for easy hiding. I tap my finger against the wall in hopes of getting Alix’s attention. The kid could sleep through anything and he needs to be fully alert for what is about to happen.

  Hell, I don’t even know what is about to happen.

  He shoots out of the bed and glares at me with fear in his eyes. I shake my head trying to get him to realize he needs to be quiet.

  I raise the floorboards and motion for him to run towards the boards. My parents have already made themselves hidden in their room behind the pantry door. Once I get Alix in, I have to go towards mine which is inside the bookshelf.

  I tap my finger against my lips to get him to be quiet and I leap towards my hiding place. My heart pitters and patters in my chest. I worry they could hear my heart beating from the door.

  That’s when I hear it.

  My heart pounds with the sudden movement of the door being kicked open and slamming against the wall. That’s the most noise I have heard in six months. Everything has been so quiet here, and to hear such an eruption, is mind boggling to me.

  “We know you’re here. You might as well come out now,” the Gestapo sneers with malice.

  Chapter Eight: Anya

  I don’t dare open my eyes. I know they can’t see me, but I feel as if they know exactly who is here.

  How many people are here…

  How long we’ve been hiding out.

  The Gestapo must have x-ray vision.

  In some weird way, I feel as if since I can’t see them, they can’t see me.

  “Fan out! We know they are here!”

  Did Jack rat on us? Did he come over here to warn us and we didn’t take him for his word? There’s no way this is a coincidence.

  Absolutely no way.

  My heart races in my chest, tears freeze in my eyes. Any sudden movements can make the floorboards creak and give out my hiding place.

  “Where there is one, there is two!” A Gestapo yelled.

  I wince, holding completely still.

  I hear them trashing the hiding place with their mallets and night sticks. Everything we have done to make this place look like a home has been destroyed. They don’t care about anything.

  Not one thing about us.

  I think that’s the part that makes it worse. Them not caring.

  I hear their boots stomping all over the space. Our second-hand furniture turned over and thrown against the wall. Once I hear the bookc
ase being shoved over, I feel true panic. They are dangerously close to getting Alix.

  I have to think of something. I have to think of something that will get their attention off my brother and focused on someone else. However, if they find me, they will continue to look until every Jew in our small town is found.

  Damn it!

  Something crashes in the room my parents are hiding in. My heart sinks to my butt and I feel faint. No! They must have had the same idea that I did and were trying to find ways to get the attention off of Alix.

  Reaching behind me, I grab a book and throw it across the room. Once the book reaches the other side, it smacks into the wall with a thud and crash.

  “What’s that? Where are they?” A Gestapo asks.

  The tension is thick in the air to the point where you can choke on it. I feel it. I’m sure my parents are choking on it too.

  I squeeze my eyes tighter and sink to the floor in hopes of not being seen. On the bright side of not eating as much, I think I have lost a good amount of weight making it easier to hide. I push the clothes in front of my body trying to buffer my pale skin from glowing in the dark. There’s not much skin to hide, but I feel utterly vulnerable.

  They stomp past me and pause outside of the closet I’m hiding in. “There’s Jews! I can smell their stink from here! They are somewhere in this apartment!”

  “Maybe we should set it on fire and see how many people show up!”

  Tears pour down my cheeks in tracks.

  “No, we don’t want to spook the other rats into deeper hiding!” Another Gestapo adds.

  That’s when I hear boards being ripped off the nails that have held the foundation for a century. They have found my brother!

  “We will find you! You don’t want us to find you, rats! Come out now!” A Gestapo yells.

  I hear the screeching of my brother and he sounds terrified. The sound of flesh beating flesh has me gagging on my emotions and fear.

  I have to save my brother but then I’m putting myself and my parents in danger. I have a choice to make. A choice I will have to live with for the rest of my life.