Prologue

1 0 0
                                        

Before the war, we were happy. Mother, father, Oskar and I. Mother was a simple woman, a stay at home mum and a family pie baker with a sweet smile.
Father had a terrible temper but other than that he was kind, a working man with a grand moustache though I never truly knew what he did.
Oskar was 12.
I was 16.
I still remember the radio transmissions.
I still remember hearing my mother cry as she prayed each night.
I still remember father reminding us not to let anybody know we were Jewish because it wasn't safe anymore.
I still remember the day a bomb hit our home and ended everything;
Or everyone-
Except me.

The Girl In The Attic Where stories live. Discover now