Stupid. Lazy. Ugly. Rat. Malicious words that buzz in my ears, like a nettlesome fly in the summer. Worthless. Pathetic. Inferior. Words spat at me, stinging like gravel on my heels, to keep me moving forward. Although I know I have done no wrong, I cannot stop these words from getting to my head and causing me to believe that I am truly evil. Each day, as the bones in my sides become more prominent, and the hunger claws at my empty stomach, I rack my brain, delirious from the lack of food, to remember what I’ve done to make these men hate me so much. Have I stolen? Murdered? And then I remember.
I am a Jew.

I cling tightly to my mother’s bony hand, running my thumb over her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her. The men will kill her if they hear her cries. A young woman named Devorah says these men are Nazis and work for a man called Hitler. But I do not understand; I have never met these men before. So, why do they want to kill me and everyone I love?
“Imah.” I whisper softly, brushing my cold hand across her tear-streaked cheek.
“Akiva?”
“I’m here, Imah.” I whisper even softer.
Imah is silent before replying.
“Where is Eden?”
Now, it is my turn to be silent. I know what will happen when I tell her, and I’m frightened of what to do.
“She’s dead, Imah.” I whisper.
Imah starts to sob again, before breaking out into another coughing fit. I try my best to calm her, trying to get her to quiet before the men hear her.
“Akiva?”?“I’m here, Imah.”
“How did they kill my baby?”
How do I reply? It breaks my heart again as I remember how those men looked at my baby sister with disgust as if she were an animal, taking in her disability, and marched her away. Each night, Imah asks where she is. And I must reply every night, the memory searing itself into my brain, refusing to let me forget.
Imah remains silent, her choppy breathing the only thing telling me that she’s still here.
“Akiva?”?“I’m here, Imah.” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“How did they kill Eden?” Her voice sounds sing-song, and I want to cry and shake her shoulders and try to bring my mother back.
“They-they gassed her, Imah.”
Imah’s breath catches in her throat, and I pray that she won’t cry again. She doesn’t, and I’m terrified.
“Imah?”?Silence answers me.
“Imah?” I whisper again, more urgent this time.
Still, silence answers me.
“Imah?”?“I’m here, Akiva. I always will be.” Imah coos, tugging me to her withered body. ?And, despite the fact that I’m walking dead, I feel at peace and can sleep. ?
I’m hoisted by the collar and tugged over to one of the beds, shattering my sleep and causing me to rub my eyes.
“Imah?”
“Yes, Akiva. I’m here, child, but so are the Nazis. You must stay under this bed until they are gone.”?“What about you, Imah?” I ask, tugging at her hand to join me.
“I’ll be fine, Akiva. I love you. I love you so very much, child.” Imah says quickly, kissing my head before shoving me under the bed. Seconds later, the door is slammed open. ?“All right! Everyone, get over here!” A voice booms. I watch Imah’s frail ankles walk over to the voice, to the growing number of ankles standing in a line. What are they doing to Imah? I cannot lose her; she is the only family I have left.
I hear a gun load and squeeze my eyes shut to keep tears from appearing. This can’t be happening. Then a gun goes off several times, blood splashing onto the dirty floor of the cabin; I cover my mouth to keep from screaming. A body lands right in front of me, a bullet wound in the middle of their forehead, blood covering most of this person’s face. Their eyes are rolled back in their head, their body limp.
And my heart stops as I realize that this person is Imah.

I sob silently under the bed until I hear the door slam shut. I crawl swiftly from under the bed towards Imah, my pajamas soaked in her warm blood. ?“Imah?” I whisper, waiting for her soft voice to reply that she’s here.
There is only silence. I hold her hand in mine, my tears cascading over my hollow cheeks and onto her cold hand.
“Imah, please wake up. Don’t leave me.” I beg. ?“Imah, I’m here. I always will be. I love you, Imah. Come back to me. Please.” I beg, clutching her hand to my chest. My body is taken over by sobs as I lay my head upon her bloodied body, listening and waiting for the soothing beat of her heart.
There is only silence.
“Imah. Please come back. I’ll protect you this time. Please. I’ll do anything, Imah. Please.” I sob.
And here, in my cabin filled with the dead, there is only silence.