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My butterfly,
My sweet, sweet, crystal butterfly,
Fear is a hunter.
It encircles us when we are unarmed and least expect it. And then we are forced to make decisions.
I made the right decisions, I know that well. So, my dear Lore, why couldn’t you see that? I told the Hitler Youth boys about that horrid Jew you called your father to save you from him. Your mother was not Jew, you could’ve sided with her; you decided to side with your Jewish father.
I remember clearly, the way you turned around to face me. The words you screamed at me with such anger. “I am Jewish!”
I watched as they dragged you away, down the street. Your voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. “I am Jewish!”
I am certain everyone heard it, you spoke with such pride. The words always echo in the back of my mind, haunting me. “I am Jewish!”
Why didn’t you make the right decision? I was trying to save you, protect you. I was meant to be the knight, you were meant to be the damsel in distress. I was going to save you, be your hero. I suffered so much that day, it was the day after you were taken away from me. Taken away from my protection.
Now, here I stand, wondering if I’ll ever see you again. See everything I love about you. I know I am not meant to, you are Jewish after all, but I cannot help but find a sense of comfort in the idea of being infatuated with you. Perhaps it was how you wore your red sweater while reading, you seemed so happy. Or maybe it was the way the green ribbon kept your hair tied up so neatly when we were on the same team for that game in the street. Or maybe it happened to be the way your hair reminds me of the wings from the butterflies in my butterfly collection. I collected them because they reminded me of you, did you know that?
I can’t help but wonder if you remember small details of me like I did of you.
. . .
Hannelore, I can’t help it, but I do have this one last thought I must know the answer to: Are you dead like me?
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The grip on my wrists was tight, they dragged me down the street, dragged me away from you. I can’t say I was grateful, no, the feeling was far from gratefulness. But I do believe that for a split second, I felt peace. The Nazi soldiers had informed me that they were ‘taking me someplace special’, I did not fall for their lies. I had heard stories of where they take Jews, of what happened to those Jews. I did not want to believe it but I knew that I would end up like them.
Did your decision bring the world ‘justice’, Alfred?
I stood in the back of a truck, with many others, squished up against each other with no space to even sit or kneel. I could not see them, but my ears worked well, there were children here. I could hear their cries, scared, terrified, unknowing of what was to come. I held my breath as some cried for their mothers, I wanted to do the same. As hard as I tried to stay calm, I could feel my body tremble at each cry I heard.
Did the Hitler Youth boys finally accept you for doing the ‘right’ thing, Alfred?
A single file line. That was what we were instructed as they began to run ‘medical check-ups’ on us, it was horrid. They separated the men from the women, then separated the children. My eyes wandered to the area around me, is it possible to make a run for it? No, of course not, I was being silly. No, not silly, I am not silly, I was being hopeful for a better outcome that did not exist. It was not long until it was my turn to have a ‘check-up’. The man stripped me of my clothing, subjecting me to a ‘physical examination’. “It’s a shame that your body would go to waste,” I bit my tongue, he didn’t even attempt to cover up the heavy amount of lust dripping from his words.It did not matter, the examination was over and I was brought to a room, promised a ‘shower’. There were no lights, it was complete darkness. I kept my head up, hands out in front of me as I tried to avoid bumping into other people. I found the corner of the room, hugging the wall as I tried to calm down.
Did you receive your ‘deserved’ medal, Alfred?
It wasn’t long until the room was filled, I stuck to my wall, avoiding the other women in the room. I heard cries, pleas, prayers, whimpers, anything. Then the ‘shower’ began. I held my breath, trying not to breathe in anything. I could not see but I could hear. Coughs, wheezes, gasps, cries. I closed my eyes, would this have been different if I just claimed that I was not Jewish? If I betrayed my mind, would I have had the chance to live another day? If I betrayed my morals, would I have more time? No, nonsense. I am Jewish and that should not be shamed by—There was a limit on how long a human could hold their breath, I had run out of time. A cough. Another cough. It soon turned into constant coughing, I joined the other women in their wheezes and cries. I hugged the wall, the back of my throat burned and my lungs screamed for fresh air. I could not do anything but suffer. I had just realised I had begun to cry, but why does that matter? I was dying.
Have you found joy in your decision? Are you showing off to everyone you know about how you’re a ‘hero’? Have your plans and theories worked out for you?
I prayed over and over again in my head, hoping that Yahweh would come down and save us all, save me.
Answer me, explain to me, enlighten me, coward.
I drew my last breath, knowing that this was the end.
Tell me, Alfred Frick, tell me.
Belief is a hunter.It has filled my brain to the brim.