Torn

      ​Everything else faded into the background. I could only focus on her hand being pulled from mine. She screamed my name and I screamed hers. We might as well be screaming in a soundproof room because, of course, no one helped us. The Nazis were pulling her hair and arm to make her release my hand, but our grip only tightened.
​My face was burning red and the tears poured down my cheeks like waterfalls. Some found their way into my mouth and I tasted the saltiness of them. My mother was crying too. The water made clean streaks that ran through the dirt on her beaten face. It was surprising and scary because my mother was never the crying type. Just seeing all of the emotion in her eyes made me realize that this might be the last moment I ever have with her. The Nazis tore her from my hands and she screamed louder.
​She broke free from the Nazis and ran towards me. She picked me up and whispered in my ear, “Don’t you dare give up on yourself. You are strong and you need to keep hope close to your heart. I love you so much and I just wish I could have seen you grow up. But even if I’m not with you I will be thinking of you where ever I am. I love you.” Then she held me in front of her and kissed me on the cheek. The Nazis grabbed her, threw her to the ground and shot her.
​I just stood there in disbelief. A red puddle formed in the middle of her chest. Her eyes were open and starring at me. They no longer had the emotion and love they had before. They were lifeless. Her arm was stretched out towards me as if she wanted to take my hand once again. My feelings were strange. I always thought that when a family member dies you should be sad. But instead of sadness, I felt like it wasn’t real. I couldn’t accept the fact that she was gone and I wouldn’t ever see her again.
​One of the Nazis turned to me and said, “You won’t make her mistake if you know what’s good for you.” Then they walked away with smiles on their faces. I ran up to my mother and fell on my knees. I took her hand and felt the warmth slowly draining from her. Then I started to cry because I knew she had left this life. I rubbed her hand in mine and stared at her face. I released her hand and closed her eyes.
​I was 9 when she died and I will always remember her.