A/N: This is my first story here at so be kind! Reviews are ALWAYS welcome! Criticism would be welcome too!

The Diary of Adalia Schafer: A Trilogy

March 20, 1942

Here I am, inside my own house, hiding from the German soldiers. Beside me, are my mother and my sister leaning on her shoulder. To my other side, my father and brother are having a quiet conversation. I think they are planning how to get us out and place us in a different hiding place.

It all began when the Nazis decided to eliminate the world of Jews. There is talk of concentration camps, but none have proved true, as the Jews that were taken never returned. My father decided to stuff me , my mother , my sister , my brother , and himself down this hole under my parent's bed. My father feared that the Nazis would come and take us to the camps, or throw us in the ghettos.

And that is how we ended up here.

But before I get ahead of myself, let me introduce my family. My father, Alvin Schafer, came from a Jewish family. His mother was Polish Jew and his father a German Jew. He was born in Germany; he lived there until the tender age of five, when his mother was left as a widow. After his father's mysterious death, he and his mother moved to Poland. When he turned fifteen, his mother died of tuberculosis.

A few years later, when he was nineteen, he met my mother, Lillian Palka. My mother also came from a Jewish family, but they were all Polish. My mother had been born in Poland, taking care of her sick mother and two younger siblings. Unfortunately, both her siblings died of food-poisoning and her mother passed away from her illness and grief.

Mother and Father married at the age of twenty, and a year later my brother, Frederick Raymond was born. Frederick is now sixteen and a heartthrob in his school, until the Nazis decided to close our school down. He is tall and slender but muscular, with short dark brown hair and light brown eyes.

After he was born, one year later I was born, carrying the name of my father's dead mother's name, Adalia. My father would often say I carried my grandmother's beauty with me, but I always thought that I am no beauty. There is nothing special about my long waist-length black hair and deep blue eyes. But no matter, I do not mind I am not attractive as there is other more serious and grave matters to take care of.

After almost four years, my sister Lilith was born.

I hate to admit it, but even though Lilith is only ten, she is quite the pretty one. Her long dark brown hair reaches her waist, and her eyes are an amazing hue of hazel. I've heard the German soldiers put the women in concentration camps; from there they are sorted in brothels. I am afraid of what would happen to me, my mother and sister if they caught us.

Now that I've named my family, I must go to sleep, as I need to recover my strength. Goodnight.

March 24, 1942

Oh how dreadful! I haven't written in three days, as of what happened as soon as I went to sleep. It seems my father didn't tell us there was a sort of channel from where we were hiding that would lead us near the pipes in the kitchen. It so happens, that on March 21, the German soldiers broke in our house. They moved all our belongings around, especially the furniture as from looking trapdoors. Well, they found us but I and my siblings and mother were long gone, crawling down the narrow tunnel. The Germans took my father out of the trapdoor and kicked him.

I could hear the wry laughing and boots kicking. Lilith barely stifled a cry, as the German carried out my father's limp body to their trucks. What we didn't know, is that one of the Germans stayed behind, and was still looking around. Lilith was anxious to get out, and before we could stop her she crawled back the tunnel and out the trapdoor. She dashed to my room, and the soldier heard her loud footsteps and followed her. Eventually, they figured out that there was a tunnel and two of them went down and caught us already coming up the tunnels.

We were shoved in their trucks, and I knew that we were being taken to the Warsaw ghetto. The trip was long and weary, and along the way the Germans stopped and recovered other Jewish families into the behind of their trucks. There was another large family with us.

The Spiers.

There are four children, and their mother. Their father was slaughtered by the SS. The oldest is my age, fifteen. Her name is Emma, and she is quite pretty. I noticed the Germans looking at her occasionally before putting her in here. The next child is her sister, who is fourteen. Her name is Anna. After there is Nicholas and Zachary.

Their mother is probably is the loveliest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Emma tells me that she swears she will stick by me when we get in the ghetto. I am glad she has promised me that. For a feeling tells me Mother will no longer be able to care for us. Father is weak, and the Germans are already reloading their guns. I can't think the horrid way they will kill my father. Mother says that they will not kill him, but I know she is trying to reassure me.

I think I shall stop writing, and talk with Emma, as I think this is leading to a friendship.

A/N: Well, there it is! I'm sorry it's pretty short, but I'll try to make the next chapters longer! R/R!