January 12, 1942: Berezovka
The hair is damp; the early morning fog thickens against the possibility of sight. From left to right, the voices of agony and weariness echoes throughout the compound as the distant sound of bullets echo painfully in the hair as the people dressed in rages continue their travel. They carry their Burdon's as beggars do as there eyes show a pleading light, while others show nothing but dullness and a lose of the meaning to live.
My life it seems, will end in this compound, this hell, this prison holding the innocent while the criminals carry on the punishment. This is what it would be like, if the tides have turned in the world of justice, where the criminals punish the innocent for a crime that they did not commit. This is the world where every man who bares the name of a Jew, will die a Jewish death of torture and fear.
I hear voices, voices from around me, they speak of him, the lord their god with spite in their starving voices as they haul there beaten bodies on ward. "He has abandoned us…he has abandoned his own chosen's, his people suffer and where is he?" the voices of the men continue as I can't help but ask the same question in my mind as I enter my assigned work area as do the other men.
I quickly get to work as I struggle to bend into shape, my old arthritis-ridden fingers as I flinch at the pain. After a moment, I know that I better get going, before 'they' catch me. So I turn to my left in search of the bucket of bolts, only to see the polished boots of one of 'them'! I gulp in my fear as I try to grab for the bolts and continue my work, my fingers shake uncontrollably as I try to command my old self to smarten up and get to that bucket!
I grow closer, and closer, but just as my shaky right hand reaches the bucket, I pull back my hand as fast as I am able to as the bloody German kicks the warn out bucket to the floor, spilling all it's contents to the hard concrete floor. He laughs, and it's bitterness and twisted amusement as I struggle to keep my control as I move to collect the mess of bolts on the floor.
One by one I pick them up, as the bloody German watches onward, his twisted grin I feel burning into the back of my mind as I scurry along the floor, hastily grabbing for the fallen bolts as the fear in me makes my task harder. I know it will happen, I can't explain it, I just know it will happen. And as I pick up the last of the bolts I scream in pain as I feel the heavy black sole boot crush my hand painfully, trapping it mercilessly against the hard dirty floor as I feel the bones in my old hand break one by one at his added weight.
The pain, the horrible pain gets worse and worse as I feel more bones break in my hand as I look up to the cold-hearted face of the cursed German as he looks down at me and laughs. The laugh is twisted, like a mad man he continues his evil laugh as he lifts his foot up from my hand just a bit, only to stomp down harder against my now severally broken hand as I scream in pain.
The room is silent as my fellow Jews watch me in pity as I scream louder at the pain, my eyes tear up, I will them not to drop but they do anyways as the pain is to much for my pride to handle. Tears of pain fall down my wrinkled face as I beg to the soldier to let me go, 'please sir…please…let me go, plea-" he smacks me hard across the face as his angry voice rings in my ear, "Shut up!"
He grins as he watches me lay there in pain as my tears stain my wrinkled face, another moment later, he seems to tire of his fun with me, he releases the pressure of his boot on my hand, allowing me to pull back my crushed and badly bleeding hand. He grins at me for a moment before glancing down to the bloody mess on the floor where my hand once was, I watch as his glance moves towards his polished boot as he studies the heal of his boot to find my blood on it's sole.
His grin turns to disgust as I barley hear his response next to my whimpers, but realization tells me I'm in trouble, I'm in for it this time, and this time could mean the end. The thought terrifies me as I lay limp on the floor as thoughts of my past life with my beautiful granddaughter comes back to me as I try to think of at lest one good memory before facing my end. I hold on to that memory just as the German reaches into his pistol holster, to reveal his flashy Lugar P08. He smirks at my trembling body as I can tell what's going on without ever seeing it happen.
My eyes linger for the next moment as I search the crowed that watches my fateful end, my eyes find familiar eyes, standing high up in the balcony next to the other women. My wife for most of my life watches me; her eyes connect with mine and we say our goodbyes as we both cry at the unspoken words between us. She's trembling uncontrollably as the women next to her, my sister holds her supportively just as the bang of the gun enters my ears as the force of the bullet jerks my head to the side as the room falls to darkness. I'm free at last