Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Support This Author

Sponsored Items

Click Here To Bid  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Friendship
Presented To:
Veronica is back!

Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 273    
Guests: 544    

   
Total Online Now: 817    
Writing.Com Time

Thursday
May 31, 2012
8:01am EDT


Recent Items
By Online Authors
  >> Static Item >> Short Story >> Drama >> ID #1101735  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
The March
Father and Son are seperated after a death march.
Rated:
13+
by
Avg Rating: (6)
Elie pressed tightly against his father's body, tired but watchful black eyes following the steady line of rifles trained at them. The soldiers with the signs father had called 'swastikas' on their arms, had not said a word for sometime. Every now and then a shot would ring out when a prisoner collapsed in exhaustion. At first the cries of anguish from others had been rampant. But now, all they could do was simply flinch and walk past. Just another victim in this endless death march.

"We're almost there, Elie," Shlomo said with a weary smile at his son, squeezing his cold hands gently.

"Where are we going, Papa?" Elie asked quietly.

"Home," Shlomo replied, his heartbeat quickening as the wired fence came into view. He could see the long train waiting and knew what was about to happen.

"Hold on tightly, Elie," he said in a fevered whisper. "Don't let go. Understand?"

Elie seemed to sense the fear in his father's voice and he shivered. He clutched the thin hand within his as tightly as he could.

The commotion was getting louder now and the soldiers, angry and irritated with the screaming prisoners, began to shove and hit those who protested.

"You!" A soldier bellowed and tugged the scruff of Elie's shirt. "Come!"

"Papa!!" Elie screamed as he felt the grip on his father's hand slackening. "Papa!! Don't let go!"

"Elie!!" came the desperate scream. "Elie!! My boy!! Don't...argh!"

"PAPA!!" It was a shrill cry that was lost in a sea of terrified voices. He tried to catch a glimpse of his father, but it was impossible in the throng of confusion.

Elie wept openly as he felt himself pushed into the cramped cabin. He now knew, without a doubt, that he would never see his father again.

Word Count: 300

Notes: Elsie Wiesel was a holocaust survivor and won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. He was forced on a death march with his father, Schlomo in 1945. Although the events written above did not happen to Elsie and his papa (the seperation), this was just a snippet of events that were quite rampant during that time. You can check out his novel Night for more about it. I definitely plan to.
© Copyright 2006 iKïyå§ama (UN: kiyasama at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
iKïyå§ama has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!