A Rest in The Forest

I was hidden.
It was dark.
The rusting sink had warned me
As I laid beneath it
To stay quiet.
Heavy boots vibrated the creaky, wooden floor, And sent chills down my spine.
The cabinet beneath the faucet opened.
No longer dark.

Screams of my parents were deafening.

German voices clouded my senses

Hundreds of gunshots pierced my ears.

My family lay dead.

The fierce eyes of the Nazi grabbed my attention,

Violently pulled out from my safe place.
Why was I not dead?

Fast forward two days: I sit on a train,
My fragile body ready to break into two,
No belongings for me
Besides from my doll.
My hair once tied in a pretty red bow
Now fell to my shoulders; unwashed, ratty.
The train stopped short.
The feeling of a comforting hand appeared on my shoulder.
Mama?
No.
Mama was dead.

A solider threw me out the train door,

My delicate figure not taken into regard.

Surrounded by the sea of soliders,
My eyes avoid contact with theirs.
I bit back the tears
That would give them satisfaction.

A solider walked towards me

In a line as straight as a pencil.

Eyes like sapphires
Looked at me
Starting at my head
Ending at my toes.
His hair
The color of sand
Hid behind a dark green hat.

Nose to nose
I thought maybe
Possibly
He’d give me a chance to run.

My dreams were disturbed
By the wad of spit
Lying on my chin.
He grabbed my doll
And threw it into the forest
I will not play fetch.

The solider returned

To the rest of his kind.

I bolted.

Running,
Never ending running.
I heard the warnings of sympathetic mothers

They were fading out.
The sound of gunshots intimidated me.

Trees towered over me,
Hiding me.
Protecting me.

I was so close.

I felt a weird sensation,
Something was on my arm.
My hand went to itch it
Now covered in blood.
My eyes did somersaults into my head,
As my back went against the tree trunk.
I shrunk to the soil,
Sleeping forever in the innocence of nature