Auschwitz

Chapter 2 the trains

When I was shoved into the train,I was close to a window, the best part of the train.
My mother was nowhere to be found, I can't believe this is happening to me! Why me! 

"Mother! Mother! Its me! Maria!" ... nothing, my lungs felt on fire, the heat, the closeness, I've never been away from my mother for long.

The SS put two buckets in the train car, one for the lavatory and the other for water. The most time I spent in that train, I was standing. No one sat we were too close to even squat. You could imagine how hard it was to use the lavatory, which meant, you had to use the lavatory on yourself. The stench, was unbearable. Today is the worst day of my life and these days were only going to get worse.

"Why me?" I asked out loud, the tears running down my face showed these strangers my weakness. I didn't care at the moment who was listening.
"Why is it anyone." my head snapped to the side, a young girl was who replied.
"We didn't do anything wrong." She replied again.
"Who knows maybe the Americans will come and liberate us." I say smiling at the memory of my father, he wanted nothing more, then to go to America.
She smiles warmly at me. "This is true. The Americans are free." Her accent was something I have never heard, it sounded like when my father used to act like vampire Dracula from a film they had once seen. In 1937.

"Your accent," I reply to her wolfish smile, "are you a vampire? Like Dracula?" I ask stupidly out of the blue. She laughs for once a real laugh of solace.

"No my friend, I am from Transylvania, I'm a gypsy." I nod and realize that Hitler was effecting everybody. Not just me and the Jews.
"A gypsy? Going to a work camp?" I am shocked and horrified.

"Hitler wants everyone who's different out of Germany, the only way we are to leave is through work camp." She tells me further.

It turned nighttime and I begin to feel my throat gasp with thirst. My stomach filled with hunger, and my legs become weak. Most people not strong enough, die, or become a thin nothing that had no name, no family.
The gypsy that I had become friends with had told me her name, it was Elizabeth, she had shocking green eyes, as green as the grass growing in Poland. Her hair was a raven black, beautiful curls reached the tip of her collarbone, her clothes were tattered. She was no taller then me, maybe my age, her face was slender and her body was the same. I wouldn't be surprised if the SS did not feed her as well.

"Will someone get me the water bucket?" I ask into the darkness as I feel eyes on myself. 
"It has no more water." A woman in the back called with a sharp voice. No more water? Did they only put a small amount in? The train was freezing, and I suddenly thought of my father, how he used to get icicles, small ones, and told me that they would melt in the heat. My father was always so smart. He taught me many things.
"I can make some." I call out, it's not that hard. My father taught me when I was little, icicles melt with heat, my idea could work and I would get water for everyone. It was below freezing but I could still do it.
"Bring me the bucket!" I call and feel a little bit of space so that I may make water.

I reach to the window not being able to grab one of the icicles, dang it, I feel as I should be lifted but no one would have the strength. I feel the tip of an icicle and softly pull, feeling my hand shoot with pain, I had been stabbed in the hand, the blood would freeze instantly so why even bother to try to wrap it or try to help myself. All I feel is a numb sensation as I bleed, the blood was a river that never stopped flowing.

 "Do you need help?" I hear Elizabeth call out. 

"Yes if someone would be kind enough to grab icicles and pass them to me!" I yell over the horrific train whistle. This is when people were so desperate for water they would bring me snow from they're clothes for water, which helped all of us.