I rolled over to face Helena, who softly grabbed my chin and lifted my head up.

"You need to eat El, come on!"

My eyes closed once again as I was exhausted from having to turn to face her.

"Please. Eat."
———

We arrived at the camp, and I once again met. with Lieutenant Donny Rudner.

"Thank you, really. You helped saved some of our soldier's asses." I chuckled as I shook his hand. "Keep in touch with me, alright?" I smiled as I replied, "Of course." Grabbing my bag from the chair, and walking out, I felt more optimistic about my future than ever before. The only thing leaving me upset was that the plans had changed, and I would meet Helena before I got on a ship to England.

As I walked to the truck, I felt a shoulder grab my arm.

"Ready for your last adventure with me?"

I smiled as I realized it was James, pushing his shoulder off. I continued walking as he asked, "Are you sure you'll enjoy England? It's more different than America than you may think it is."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I can speak English, I think I'll get by fine." I could feel his eyes staring at me, so I looked over to see him staring at my coat. He grinned at me as we continued walking, "Were you in a rush? You messed up your coat buttons." I glared down before undoing all the buttons, quickly doing them once again.

"Clearly."

I heard running come from behind me, so I quickly turned around to lock eyes with Stephen who was hurriedly running over to wish us goodbye. Stephen smiled as he hugged me and James before asking, "You'll write a letter to me, right?" He nodded as he grinned, "If I'm not dead Stephen." The two boys once again said their goodbyes to each other before Stephen waved at me as he walked off.

We hopped into the truck, starting our journey to the Port of Rotterdam. Half way along the journey, we decided to stop in a village and grab a few things for the road. I felt my pocket for the Reichsmark I had left, then slid out of the truck and walked through the town. The town was eerily familiar, and perhaps I'd been there before and just didn't recall when. Gleefully walking on the sidewalks, I noticed the condition Germany was in. People were collecting pots and pans to donate to the war effort, and people were in line waiting to get just a little bit of food. It reminded me of the ghetto. Stopping on the sidewalk, I noticed a store that seemed interesting enough to go in.

As I walked into the store, comfort and familiarity hit me.

"Guten Morgen!"

I smiled as I repeated her, looking around the store.

"Guten Morgen! Wie geht es Ihnen?"

She smiled back at me as she responded, "Mir geht's ganz gut."

I picked out a pair of trousers, and at the desk they were selling small cloth dolls. I purchased both, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a piano. I looked over to the worker as I asked, "Could I play that piano? Over there? I have extra money." She shrugged as she pointed, "Do it for free, no one's gonna stop you. Hasn't been played in months."

Smiling, I walked over to the piano. Thinking of a composition I learned, Liebesträume 3 came to mind. James glared through the window as I sat down, walking over to me. He mumbled as I sat down my bag, "Thought you quit playing the piano?"

My fingers were light to the touch as they danced a crossed the ivory keys, almost as if I was floating on a cloud. Playing piano... it brought me so much needed relief. It was relaxing, calming, yet entertaining too. I never wanted this moment to end. This was my heaven.

But just like that, heaven was gone.

The song was over, and so I was brought back to reality. A harsh, cold reality.

I grabbed my bag, waved at the woman and walked out of the store with James. He grinned as he practically skipped on the sidewalk, ready to get the hell out of Germany. He looked down at me as he pulled out a camera from his pocket, "Ready to memorialize our last great adventure?" I didn't reply as I continued to worry, doing cartwheels in my mind. James giggled to himself as he fixed the film in his camera, "Don't be daft."

I muttered under my breath as we walked, "About what you said, about this being our last adventure, I thought you were coming to England with us?" He looked down at his camera as he thought, "Well, until I'm sent out to serve again. I'm a soldier still." He smiled as he shrugged. I fell deep into thought. I didn't want to go to England. I also didn't want to leave James. I desperately desired a place with familiarity, comfort. I couldn't handle another culture shock.

"I don't think I should go to England." I said, as I stopped walking. James turned around as he frowned in confusion, "What?" I shook my head, "I don't wanna go to England. I can't handle another culture shock. It's better if I go to America." I rummaged through my pocket as I stuttered, "I'll get in contact with Donny, I can find a pay phone." He pushed my hand away as he shook his head, "No, I'll call him." I once again reached my hand out, "No." I sternly said, "If you insist on calling him yourself, then at least use my money for the pay phone." He reluctantly grabbed the money from my hand, stumbling out into the street to find a pay phone.

I sat down on a bench, eagerly waiting for his return. I smiled as people past to look less like a hot mess that was clearly agitated. A little girl pointed at my hair as she walked past, smiling as she said, "I like your hair!"

These days, my hair was a flimsy and thin mess. It had been like that ever since I got it shaved at the camp, and it began growing out after I got to the second camp. I suspect the flimsiness and thinness nature of my hair was caused by malnourishment, combined with stress. My hair was apart of my identity, but now it was gone. Just like everything else.

It was taking awhile to completely grow out, and it was an inch or so away from finally touching my shoulders. Most of the time I would do braids and pin them, or just figure out another hairstyle that prevented my hair from falling aimlessly against my ears. Those hairstyles reminded me of my mother's, though.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited for James to return with either dreadful or exciting news. My hands shook from fear as I tapped my foot on the ground, distracting myself with things around me.

I spy with my little eye... a tree? Great, there's a dead tree.

I spy... a mailbox?

"God, this isn't working!"

I didn't know what was wrong with me. My chest hurt as my stomach made me nauseated, wanting to bend over and hurl into a bush. I felt anxious, awkwardly worrisome as I sat on the bench, watching passerby's intently. In the distance, I saw James walking back over. Something about his stance, or himself, made me even more anxious. I didn't understand it. Maybe I was going insane.

"Good news." He said as he kept his hands in his pockets, looking down at me.

"You're going to America."

He grinned as he continued, "You'll take the same ship, stop in England, then board another ship."

The excitement overwhelmed me all at once. My face was frozen as I stared up at him.

His smile faded as he watched me, "Are you not excited?" I didn't reply, "...Elisabeth? Are you alright?"

I suddenly jumped up from my seat as I smiled, hugging him. I grinned as I quietly exclaimed, "Thank you James, thank you!" He patted my back as he muttered, "Don't get too excited." I stepped back as I grabbed my bag, continuing on our small journey back to the truck. James asked, "Do you know where you'll stay while you're in America?" I shrugged, "I don't know. I'll figure it out." He nodded as he fumbled with his hands in his pockets, "You could stay with my family?"

He smiled as he looked at me with a genuine look in his eye. I replied, "What? Really?" James once again nodded, "Yes, of course! My father is Jewish. He lives in New York, not in the city though." I smiled as I thought, looking down, "That means I'll have holidays again.. and traditions!"

It just didn't make sense in my mind. Why was James being so kind and polite towards me? Was that just American hospitality? Letting some girl he found in the woods stay with his family? I simply didn't understand it. I could be a murderer or a stalker or something. But, maybe my reality was quite apparent. That I was just a starved, dirty, and homeless girl. I guess we were friends, and that friends should provide each other comfort.

James grinned at me as I thought about holidays before he advised, "My mothers family lives in Indiana though, but my mother herself lives in England as you know." I thought before replying, "Do you consider yourself Jewish?" I asked as I looked up at him. He stuttered before stopping himself, then clearing his throat, "Well, no. I can't. I've been to synagogue a few times, yes. But I always spent time with my mother and her side. It was always awkward when my parents still lived together." I smiled as I looked at him before he grabbed my shoulder as he looked ahead, "Look, there's the truck."

We both walked back to the truck, as my mind fell into a rumble with itself. Why was he helping me? Was he expecting something in return? I haven't helped someone in such a long time. If I had been in a camp still, I would choose to free myself before another person. But, I believe that's what most people would do. So why would he bother helping a girl who belonged homeless on the street? It made no sense at all to me, and I don't think it would make sense for awhile.

The truck rattled and creaked as it drove through villages and cities, making its way West to the Netherlands to arrive in a port near the capital. I had begun keeping yet another diary.
Documenting my journey in hopes that if something happened... someone would know. Eventually, after 2 days of sleeping and hanging out in a truck, we made it to the border. Luckily, I wouldn't have to be speaking any Dutch or German as we were crossing illegally technically. Unluckily, there were still a few soldiers. Our truck driver got out, walking over to a soldier holding money in his hand. They conversed for awhile, but eventually the soldier took the money and we were able to pass through.

Then more, and more driving.

I don't remember most of these days, but I understand why. We did nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

It was dreadful, but it was the easiest road to freedom. I could have been stuck in a camp like my sister, rotting away aimlessly in a brick hell scape. Everyday I worried about Irena and Leo, even Helena. I assumed that Olga was now dead considering she lost hope when Gosia died. Salomon probably died at the new camp.

When I had nothing to do, I daydreamed about what it would be like when I re-united with Irena and Leo. James interrupted me as he asked, "What are you smiling at?"

I crossed my legs as I responded, "Seeing my boyfriend again, and my sister." His slight shock surprised me a little bit, I assumed he may have thought I didn't have a boyfriend because of my young age.

"You have a boyfriend?"

Okay, maybe I didn't have one. Or maybe I did. I wasn't sure quite yet. I hadn't spoken to Leo in months, maybe years at that point. What was I supposed to do? Write him a letter?

"I don't know." I shrugged. The cold made me shiver, and my flimsy coat was no help whatsoever. Clutching my teeth, I muttered, "Can I come sit with you? I'm freezing."

He nodded as I hovered above the ground, practically crawling over the truck bed, before squeezing beside him. I rested my arm on his shoulder, figuring out how I could possibly continue our conversation.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

His face turned red as if he was a small schoolboy, fidgeting with his hands.

"No. I didn't have any time for one before I was deployed."

"I miss Leo." I sighed, "He had hazel brown eyes that were louder than a million words. His movement and thoughts were always so precise and sharp, I was convinced his last name could be Einstein. He was Czech too."

James wrapped his arm around me, as I pushed up against him closer to get warm. Against the sun, something in his bag full of color appeared. I reached forward to grab it as I asked, "What's this?" Quickly, he pushed me as he grabbed it before my fingertips got the chance to make contact with the paper.

"Sheet music."

Astonished to even be near sheet music, I ripped the music out of his hand. James muttered as my face gleamed, "That wasn't very polite." My smile faded as I croaked out an apology, before once again staring at the sheet music. Smiling, I flipped through the pages.

"I play piano, and I sing. Did I tell you that?"

James shook his head in response, "You never mentioned singing." My fingers traced the paper as the intense cold and pain hit me. Last time I touched sheet paper was when I was in Hell, in Auschwitz. A tear began to swell up in my eye, so I gently rubbed it away. Thinking of Irena worried me greatly. How was she supposed to find me in America? Surely she would be looking in Poland.

If she was alive of course.

He nudged me on the shoulder, "Why are you crying?" Him pushing me resulted in the few teardrops in my eyes falling down onto the sheet music. My throat felt like it was burning as I tried holding back my sobs, pushing the words out, "Music is the only reason I'm still alive."

"I'm sure all musicians claim that." James snickered, before realizing I was quite serious.

"I had to perform for Nazis in the camp while I was in the orchestra. I'd play piano, I'd sing, sometimes I was forced to dance for entertainment. I even learned violin, out of all things."

He began to speak but I grabbed his arm to shush him, as I continued vomiting out the words.

"I did all that, while my friends and my family were dying out in the cold."

He remained silent.

"There was so much starvation. If you were dying, someone would try and steal your food from you. There was no use for you to eat if you were going to die anyways. I remember people eating feces in the winter."

"I remember watching all the families be torn apart, and how so many people didn't get a chance to survive once they left the platform. Once the transports from Hungary started coming.. their fate was sealed. Most of the time they sent every single person, young or old, healthy or ill, straight to the gas. No mercy."

"All I can see when I close my eyes is the people I could've helped, I could've saved them. I see the bodies being dragged to the crematorium and the bunks filled with shit. Everyday when I wake up, I smell such a retched scent I want to hurl. Vomit, shit, and decaying bodies all mixed up into a nasty perfume. It won't leave. Even if can feel the warm summer breeze on my face, that smell follows me."

The dam collapsed as I fell into sobs, throwing down the sheet music. James was cold and awkward as I continued crying, mourning the deaths I could've prevented.

"Everything alright back there?" One out of the two drivers yelled back.

"It's fine!" James yelled.

"My sister is never going to find me. How the hell will she know to look in America? Out of all fucking places on God's green earth?! I should've stayed in Poland!"

"I miss Poland! I miss my life before the war! I wish I would've died the day they shot my mother! I wish they would've shot every single one of us! Isn't that selfish?!"

I fell backwards as James pulled me in closer, resting my head on his shoulder. I rolled my head around, meeting eye to eye with him. Tears continued to trail down my cheekbones as I stared at his face, closely examining it. I mumbled, "We're so much like each-other." We continued to stare at eachother as he whispered back, "How so?"

"Both of our early adulthood, maybe even our time being teenagers. It was cut short by war. You have blue eyes, I have blue eyes." He mumbled back, "I have a Jewish father, you have a Jewish father." We both chuckled as we comforted eachother from the harsh cold. James reached over past me, confusing me as he turned to completely face me.

"Sorry, I'm looking out the side of the truck." He slid over me as he squinted forward. "We're at the outskirts of the city, we should be around ten minutes from the port soon." I shyly smiled as he once again turned to face me, his nose almost touching mine. He smiled back before once again turning back around, pulling me under his arm.

"If you're just going to sit here with me, you might as well be useful." I complained, pointing over to his bag, "Give me a cigarette." James reluctantly pulled himself up, crouching over to his bag and digging through it. "You're a bit young to be smoking like you do. You'll look 70 by the time you're 30." He smiled as he handed me the cigarette, before searching for his lighter in his bag. I slid the cigarette in my mouth as I grinned back, "Anything to kill off the stress." He pulled out the lighter and reached over to me, "Probably kills some of your brain cells too."

"It's great to have a friend like you, you know. You're my moral compass." I blew smoke out of my mouth as the cigarette rested in my fingers, "Right, we're friends." His forthright tone made me glare over to him, and he had a somber look on his face. James grabbed the cigarette from my fingers, taking a smoke. He looked over at me, noticing the nasty side-eye I had given him, "What? You said we were friends. Might as well share."

The truck drove into the city, and I crawled on my hands and knees to grab my bag. I was digging through it to find my hat when I heard a camera flash, so I swiftly whipped my head around,

"What is your problem?!" I groaned as James held up the camera and replied, "There was a nice view we were passing."

I rolled my eyes as I placed my hat on my head, resting my bag on my shoulder,

"Your grandkids are gonna see a photo of some random woman's ass one day."

The truck lurched forwards, resulting in me falling face forward. I banged my head on the metal floor, before I slowly got up and held my nose. It hurt like a bitch as I felt my heart pulsing, and my nose tingled. I rubbed my nose, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw the blood all over my hands.

"Are you alright Betty?"

-

Standing in the cold, my legs shivered as I rocked back and forth. The doctor stood behind me, poking me in the hips with her baton. "Healthy enough for now."

I looked over to the girl beside me, also rocking back and forth. She looked a lot like me, maybe a year or so younger. I saw sorrow in her eyes, mixed with emptiness. Like an avalanche, her arms gave up before her legs. She fell down as the guard ran over, her dog barking hysterically. "Get up!" The girl pushed herself up, wiping the blood off her face as the guard hit her, trying to push her back down as punishment with her baton. She eventually stood up straight, but the guard stood with a look of hatred in her eyes.

She crookedly smiled before taking the dogs leash off, letting it go absolutely feral on the girl's legs. She screamed and cried in pain, trying to push the dog off. I dug my nails into my skin as I hunched over forward, trying to ignore the cries.

"Help me! Make it stop!"

"Please! Get him off me! Please! Stop!"

Eventually, the guard pulled back her dog. But, the girl laid in pain and shock. Dozens of bites laid on her legs, loose skin and flesh hanging off. The doctor walked over to inspect her, "Hm, sick. To the truck."

The female guard pushed her baton into a gash as the girl whimpered in pain, "Come on! Get up! Go to the truck!" The baton pushed further and further into the bloody wound as she began sobbing, trying to push it away. "Get up! You lazy slug!" The guard grabbed her arm and stood her up straight, using the bloody baton to hit her forwards toward the truck. She fell forwards, dragging herself on the ground towards the truck.

"I can't make it to the truck!" She sobbed, "I just want to go to the gas, put me out of my misery!" The girl cried as she kept trying to pull herself towards, her legs limp. The guard pointed at a Kapo, calling her over, "Put her in a wheel barrow. She cries at all, send her to the crematorium. I could give a shit if she's alive still." The Kapo obeyed, searching for a wheelbarrow.

-

"Betty? Elisabeth?!"

I was hunched forwards, clinging my legs and holding the blood on my face. Snapping back into reality, I looked over, "What?"

"We're at the dock, it's time to go."

"Oh, okay."

As I laid my hands down, I noticed the blood all over them. Calmly, I grabbed the handkerchief and wiped my hands off. James hovered over the ground as he moved over towards me, grabbing the handkerchief from my hands, "I'll help you." He wiped the blood off my nose and mouth, before helping rub the blood off my hand. "I'm not a toddler, I don't need help."

"Don't be ignorant, everyone needs help sometimes."

"You sound like my mother." I frowned, pulling James away and sliding out of the truck. "God-" The salty air of the ocean hit my face as I looked around the city, admiring the architecture and the ships docked in the port. I looked up to the sky as I took in the sunlight. The city had been hit by some bombing, but lots of the buildings and roads remained. It looked like heaven. An almost- perfect heaven. James slid out of the truck, holding our bags.

"Is this what it looks like in America?" I turned, smiling, "Beautiful architecture, little to no bombing." I took my bag from his hands.

"You're gonna have a heart attack when we get to New York City."

"I've already been there." I shrugged as I began walking down the sidewalk. James walked away towards the drivers of the truck, exchanging conversation and papers. "Wait up!" He yelled before running to catch up with me.

"I'll do the talking at the gate." He said while grabbing money out of his pockets, counting it.

"Do we have not tickets?" I stared in shock at the amount of money he had, worrying that if they were caught doing something illegal, they would be sent to a jail, or worse.

"We do-" He paused for a moment, "It's complicated, alright?"

I frowned, "We don't need to get into anymore trouble."

"We won't. It's just-" He groaned out of frustration, unable to spit the right words out.

"Why are you so frustrated?"

James quickly turned his head towards me, forming fists in his hands, "It doesn't concern you alright? We need to hurry up or we'll miss the ship."

I stepped away from him, "Alright. Just don't get pissed off at me:"

After a few more minutes, we reached the dock. James spoke to the man at the gate, showing him multiple pages of documents and money with it. He called for me to come over. I stood awkwardly as the man continued looking through the documents.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

Neither of them responded.

I assumed the man handling the papers didn't have good English. After all, there wasn't much use all the way over where wherever the fuck we are.

"What's your date of birth?" The man asked.

I began to speak, but I realized I had no answer. I think I was born in the summer. My mother wanted to name me after someone born in June. The frosty wind of the sea and winter brushed my face as I adjusted my scarf, trying to piece together the clues. I was nineteen, my birthday was always held earlier in the month so it was a little colder. It had to been June. July would be too hot.

James asked, "Elisabeth?"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite remember." I told the man.

"Look-" James put his hands on the guard rail beside him, "We know the year she was born. You know how the Germans have been persecuting Jews everywhere? She got caught in that. There's no way she could remember her date of birth after months of going through that shit."

"Someone's used that excuse before."

"I have proof, somewhat." I rolled up my sleeve, holding it up as I showed it to the man. It showed a row of disordered numbers written across my skin.

"If they came from Auschwitz, they'll have this tattoo most likely. Listen, you have to let us go through. I know my name, I know how old I am."

"What's your age?"

"Nineteen. My name is Elisabeth Faehlmann. I'm from Krakow."

The man looked at us both with empathy. It was clear that it was a dire situation, and that I absolutely needed to get through. He sighed before stamping a few pages, then giving it back to James. He handed him another sheet. James smiled as he thanked him, before grabbing my arm and walking across the dock. I took the paper from his hands, reading intently.

"Holy shit!" I muttered, "We're in the Netherlands!? I couldn't tell people were speaking Dutch!"

James hushed me, "Keep your voice down and watch your language. How come you know so much profanity in English?"

"What? Other people use it."

"A girl shouldn't be speaking like that. It's inappropriate. When we get to my dad's, if you wanna fit in, you're gonna have to watch your language. Most of the girls our age in that town work. They got jobs by being respectable, proper."

"Most of them work?" I squinted, "Has the war really changed that much?"

"America's different than when you were there a few years ago. Don't expect the world to revolve around you." He smiled before taking the paper from my hands to once again talk to a random man.

———
so i realized i hadn't updated this book since october, whoops. i really need to fix my issue of never wanting to update chapters in writing. i need to set a schedule at this point. sorry for rambling.
to my readers who celebrate christmas, merry late christmas. to everyone, happy early new years. i wish the new year brings you prosperity and good luck!