Happy 14th birthday to meeeeeeeeee

Just Intense Bliss (short Story) It was cold and dreary as Lanny Dawson trudged along the rough pathway outside the London underground station. Rain spattered her bare arms making them numb and shaky and the air made her skin raw. Lanny wished fruitlessly that her warm super dry coat would miraculously materialise from thin air. The fresh radiant sunshine seemed to have been left behind at Lanny's home town in Northumberland. She was visiting her grandma Mavis's while her social worker decided where to send her, Lanny's mother and father had died in a harrowing fire calamity. Her eyes filled with unwelcome tears as she remembered the noise as the scorching embers of her house crumbled to the ground. Lanny reached the end of the road and turning left hurried up the stairs to flat number 21. Mavis embraced Lanny firmly as she entered the musty living room. The flat had acquired an antiquated look since Lanny's grandpa had passed away slowly decaying like its owners lively spirit. She threw her rucksack of salvaged belongings onto a nearby sofa and dust twisted upwards in a thick mist, coughing Lanny joined her grandma in the kitchen. The weather outside had worsened, great black clouds had gathered above London as if attending some secret meeting. Mavis fumbled with the teapot and it slipped to the floor with a deafening crash, fragments of striped blue China flying across the cracked tiles. The porcelain was vibrating, the cabin ares were vibrating, everything was reverberating. Unanticipatedly there was a bang, Lanny could see a funnel of wind typhooning through the air strewing houses in its wake like a baby with its toys. The tornado wasn't sparing anything in its frivolous rampage. Lanny suddenly found her feet grabbing her grandma she ran out of the flat and down the windswept road a puffing Mavis struggling to keep up, they reached a small bridge where another family had taken refuge Lanny clambered onto the girders holding out a violently shaking hand to her grandma but the twister was gaining on them tossing houses aside in its race to destroy. Lanny suddenly felt Mavis's grip slide on her sweaty palm then she was gone so quickly flung into the air limp and #lifeless like many others who had deceased that terrible day the tornado passed over them whipping Lanny's hair around and threatening to bring her with it, then it passed,the small family climbed from the girders shaking but alive, but Lanny just couldn't move, the bridge swayed above them its hinges tired, people where yelling at her telling her to move but it was no use. With a last groan the bridge gave way and fell in a heap of metal . She felt nothing, she remembered nothing, just intense bliss.

Buchenwald (short Story) Prologue “The Brits have declared war!” Adolf Hitler’s eyes seemed to burn into everyone in the room. “We have captured Poland, but this is just the start. We are stronger than them,” Hitler’s eyes swept the room as if daring someone to contradict him and many seemed to cower under his gaze, “and” his voice was soft but it seemed to drip with venom “They will fall”… Chapter 1 - Tryll I gazed up at damp blotch in the ceiling listening to the steady drip of water onto the discoloured carpet below. In the next bed my older sister Annalise snuffled before becoming silent once again. I could hear Mother and Father having an argument in the room next door, they were always arguing about something or other, whether they had fed they cat, hi had spilled coffee on the rug, money, it was usually money. “It’s not safe” “Don’t be ludicrous” “Annalise, Tryll?” Us. Why were they talking about us, I was suddenly wide awake, all thoughts of sleep that had previously been dominating my thoughts were gone. I inched along the hallway until I had a clear view of the kitchen. Father paced the room while Mother cowered on a chair in the corner. They did not speak for a while as Father continued to pace. I had almost decided to return to bed when Father spoke, “So if, IF they are unsafe. What are we supposed to do about it?!” This seemed like more of a statement than a question but Mother still replied “Hide them Aldrik, hide them” “Nein! It would be safer to march up to the army and hand them in! dumme Schlampe.“ I had not done many german lessons as I went to an English school but I knew that he wasn’t being kind, and I hated him for it! “Aldrik...“ Thump! Someone was pounding on the door "Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiter, National Socialist German Workers, wir fordern Eintrag, we demand that you let us enter“ hardly breathing I edged along the wall, Father was coming, I was about to be discovered, i tumbled into the laundry cupboard and was met by an avalanche of sweet smelling linen and a callous metal pipe. Chapter 2 - Annalise The highland cow lumbered along the grassy wetlands feasting on a selection of shrubs that sprouted in the damp climate... wir fordern Eintrag, wir fordern Eintrag, drei, zwei, eins! Annalise was instantaneously aroused from her delusioned fantasys. She heard an obdurate roar followed by the splintering of wood, she hurtled off the bed and into the hallway, her nightdress billowing around her like a plume of smoke. This was her mistake. Before Annalise had time to think she was seized tempestuously. Annalise could hear someone screeching out commands in German, “Take her to the van, then search the house.“ She could barely breath, the grip around her neck was like an iron vice, her eyes watered with the pain of not crying out and Annalise could vaguely see a vehicle splattered carelessly with different shades of puce coloured paint. She barely had time to take this in before being manhandled into her parents arms. They awaited in silence listening to the clatters and clangs reverberating within their humble dwelling. “Nothing here,“ came a harsh call and the van's engine started up with a roar. Annalise clung onto her father as he stroked her hair gently and her mother sat alone lost in distant thoughts, A single tear slid down her lined gray cheek and she said in a ragged whisper that could barely be heard above the sound of the engine,“Oh Tryll...“ When the van arrived at what Annalise later came to know as Buchenwald concentration camp it was dark once again as a whole day had passed and each inhabitant of the vehicle was weak with starvation. Annalise's lips had become dry and chapped from lack of water and her tongue felt swollen and grainy. The women were separated from the men and were led in different groups to huts that were packed in against each other. Each had five straw mattresses and a thin threadbare blanket. Annalise and the four others that would be sharing a hut with her were changed into itchy camp uniforms that formed painful swollen rash down Annalise's back and fed a meagre broth that was thin and tasteless. It made the girls' stomachs churn and heave and each was glad for the chipped ceramic toilet bowl that resided in the corner of the damp hut. Nobody spoke much that evening and each seamed absorbed in their own loss and despair. Annalise could not sleep. The moans from the other woman kept her awake till the early hours of the morning. Each girl unknowing of the great pain and torture they had yet to face. Chapter 3 - Tryll Blood trickled slowly from the back of my head as in hobbled into the kitchen, in search of a towel. It was in utter devastation. The sink hung loosely from the wall and a gentle trickle of water showered from it creating a large puddle in the centre of the room. then I saw it. The White hot flames licking hungrily up the walls and towards me. I could feel the heat now as the fire roared closer and I ran, faster than I had ever run in my entire #life. It was for my family. I needed to survive, to save them. To save mother. I ran onto the street outside, it was crammed with spectators as family's were bundled into vans that were trundling to and from the street. I could hear the harsh cry of soldiers, distressed calls of those being pushed into the vehicles and those who were friends. Fires blazed along the streets as the army swept through destroying everything in their wake. I fled. I crouched in the entrance to a long deserted shop watching a spider spinning its web. Spiders webs had always amazed me, each delicate thread part of an intricate pattern designed for just one purpose. One of my favourite #poems sprung to mind as I gazed at the extraordinary design A long time ago in Germany A spider found home in a Christmas tree He made a nest from silky lace But the family thought it a disgrace But when they awoke on Christmas Eve The spiders web was a sight to see The delicate design all over the tree Snowy white against the evergreen Satiny web, a delicate twine Glistening and swaying, beauty divine Where is the creature who spun this creation Hidden away in isolation Some may view you as a menacing pest But my family, we see beyond the rest You capture those who Annoy and bite Wrapping and draining all of their fight Destroying them we celebrate with glory But just remember the christmas story I had told this #poem to my parents once and though we do not celebrate or believe in christmas it had become a tradition to recite it every year on the same day ever since. I began to cry hot tears seeping down my cheek. I didn't know whether I would ever see them again, hear my mothers tender voice as she sang me to sleep. I felt a sense of loss, loneliness, emptiness, like I would never be happy again. As I cried I could hear that the cries from the village were starting to dye away. Most of us had been Jews so most of he houses would be empty now. I decided that I would risk going back. To see if any of my friends were there. Anything I knew felt then as if it would be a comfort but as I entered the smouldering square I knew that I was wrong and I collapsed with racking sobs that tore at my throat. Wishing fruitlessly that I would find it to have all been a dream to hear my sister and mother and father and to be warm in their arms. Hush now young one, don't make a peep Just close your eyes and go to sleep I'll save you soon this world you can't fear look out your window, I'm already here Chapter 4 - Annalise Annalise awoke to the putrid stench of the toilet bowl from the night before, it made her retch uncontrollably and she stumbled the the window ( a small gap in the bricks by the door ) She could see uniformed men striding from door to door pounding on the thick wood and yelling into the cracks by them, a man came to the hut and Annalise moved back from the window crack. He did not yell through it however. Instead he came in, "Aha you filthy ingrates, I am one of the Kapo and I am in charge of making you do as you are ordered" he bawled, slapping a whip menacingly against his leg. one of the the other girls gave a muffled sob "we will start by making our beds in a precise and uniformed manner" Every single girl in the hut folded their blankets and straightened out their lumpy straw filled mattresses, Annalise found the task extremity hard to undertake and the Kapo knew it. But this gave him a good opportunity to beat her and he did so with great relish, striking every woman who did not make their bed with military precision. "it is time for washing then we will proceed to morning roll call" then he left slinging the whip over his shoulder. The prisoners only had a couple of minutes to reach one of the few sanitary buildings before they had to be at roll call and the Kapo would beat the stragglers, sometimes to death. Annalise rushed to the sanitary building and barely had time to splash some of the Filthy tap water onto her face before the morning roll call bells began to ring. She stumbled along trying to stay with the rest of the women but she soon began to fall behind. There were only a few of them at the back of the group. A girl who was limping, dragging her leg through the dirt, and Annalise's mother. She had not fared well from her night in the camp. Black rings were etched beneath her eyes and she had a sharp hacking cough. "Mother" Annalise asked tentatively but, she turned away still stumbling but slower and slower. "Oh no" moaned the girl who had been dragging her leg and seemed to have speeded up "it's the Kapo" They came marching up behind the stragglers, whips slashing towards them with painful cracks, landing blow after blow. Annalise grabbed the hand of the girl and half dragged her towards the queue of woman, lining to get their food. Each woman was given approximately 8 ounces of bread, to place in one of the rusted mess tins, this would be the only solid food for the rest if the day. Breakfast was an ideal time for the Kapo to have some more 'fun'. They would jolt the queue and make some drop their bread into the mud where they would be punished for wasting food. Annalise and the black haired girl reached the queue out of breath but still alive which was a blessing in Buchenwald. "What's your name?" She asked "Nicoline, but my mother used to call me Cole, it's my hair you see, the colour of coal" "Cole?" Repeated Annalise thoughtfully "mine is Annalise" The conversation was interrupted suddenly, one the the Kapo loomed over them clicking his whip "Talking in the queue is forbidden! You shall be punished, move on now. Breakfast is for people who behave" Annalise's stomach grumbled as they lined up for roll call and she felt ashamed that she not only got herself punished but her new friend too. Everyone was at morning roll call even, Annalise noticed with a sickening horror, those who had died during the night. Packed closely so as to not fall over. They stood in silence as the Kapo began to count each prisoner and the wind rushed the the roll call square chilling each woman and child to the bone, Annalise's teeth rattled and she shook. Then there was a thump as a woman nearby keeled over and in shock Annalise realised that she was gazing into the glazed eyes of what was once her mother. Now an empty shell, like those of a fired bullet. A few Kapo rushed in to pull her to her feet and balance her haphazardly as the counting began again from the very beginning. The camp prisoners were marched to their places of work after morning roll call, some out in the fields and others in factories. There was no rest and any who slowed down or stopped for a short while to catch their breath were executed on the spot. The pain that every soul was put through each day was unimaginable and the trail of whips, blood and destruction etched into the children's minds as they were set away to their hard tasks each day was like nothing you could ever imagine and Annalise felt that pain like so many others in Buchenwald concentration camp. Her young mind grew up so fast during her weeks in the camp suffering under the wrath of the Kapo she saw many things that many adults will never see. Cole was her only connection to what #life once was. Their snatched conversations were a small comfort in this harsh camp #life and when the Kapo were around they would share secretive glances. Annalise soon became the only remaining survivor of her original shack companions and hence was moved into a new room with a few stoney eyed woman. Chapter 5 - Tryll I could hear a faint snuffling near me. Annalise having nightmares again? I lifted my head and looked around bleary eyed and leapt back almost instantly as I identified the source of the sniffing. It was a large grey rat loaded with thick black hair and two beady eyes. "Don't move" hissed a voice spraying spittle into my earlobe and a had tightened around my neck. I could scarcely breath. Then the hand loosened from around my neck and a girl leapt out in front of me. Aiming a sharp blade towards the rat. It missed narrowly and the beast snapped playfully at her fingers before scuttling behind a smouldering heap of junk. "Aaaahhh" shrieked the girl, "it bit me" "Don't be so silly Lottie, your not even bleeding" a slightly older girl appeared from the shadows, "and don't be so schreckliche schwester! "But, she's a Jew. She should have gone with the others" the girl, Lottie, looked directly at me as she said this and I felt at that very moment more hated than I had ever felt in my entire #life. "Hide!" They scattered towards a pile of debris and I followed crouching with them just as a large tank came rolling into the square, it's caterpillar tracks flattening anything that had remained of the devastation into a board. Then I felt a sharp jab in my back and I was pushed out i front of the lorry. I prepared for the impact but it never came and the tank ground to a halt as a few men leapt down. The girls had pushed me. A soldier helped me to my feet dusting me down and inspecting my grazed knee. "Oh poor poor thing" he mumbled "Arnie, fetch some water for this here littlein," they helped me guzzle some water and then sponged of the mud that caked my arms and cleaned my burn and cuts. And I let them do it without a word, and I knew that everything was going to be ok. "Who are you?", the man who had been the first to my aid asked. And I don't know why I said it. I don't know what came over me. "My name is Tryll and I am a Jew" I proclaimed. The men recoiled as If I was some sort of disease. The man who had been holding me let go and brushed his hands on is trousers looking almost physically sick. I remember being bundled harshly into the back of the truck and the vibrations as we had cruised down the streets. I lay there in silence tears welling once again and I was reminded of a great #quote that I had once heard and never understood, now however the words and their meanings seemed clear and bold. It was only a little comfort that others had felt my pain too. It hurts the worst when the person that Made you feel so special yesterday Makes you feel so unwanted today Maybe I was a disease, an infection. Maybe I was less important than them. Maybe I didn't deserve to be alive, tainting the planet. Suddenly I heard a sound that I had heard only a few times before. The rising and falling drone of an air raid siren then came the english planes whining and chugging somewhere above me. There was an explosion so loud that my ears popped with the force and the tank jolted to one side. Then another blast further away this time. Then a bomb landed on the truck, wind rushed in my ears. I could not see. Chunks of metal whipped against me. I couldn't feel anything anymore. The world was gone and my mother was calling my name "tryll, come here darling..." Annalise Annalise had been at Buchenwald almost two months now but it had seemed like a decade. Very day was the same routine of gruelling work and often no sleep as the Kapo could prolong the evening role call for as long as 10 hours leaving them just minutes of sleep before their harsh awakening at 4.00am and the muddy trek to breakfast and morning roll call in the pounding rain. It was one particularly harsh evening with temperatures of bellow 0 and the women had already been standing patiently in roll call for two painstaking hours. Annalise could hear Coles teeth chattering behind her in the queue and the rotten stench of georgette may who had been one of Annalise's work party up at the factory. She at this moment in time would swap almost anything, though she owned very little, to be in georgette's position. No thoughts or feelings or cares. To be gone from the pain and loss. "Mama zurückkommen , Gott sie zurück zu schicken mir, ich brauche sie , Mama!" A girl was crying out a little way in front of us, she clutched at her mother who had just collapsed to the compacted earth ground. "Mama zurückkommen" "She's calling out for her mother" whispered Cole behind me as we watched in sadness as three Kapo rushed in and began to beat the girl away from Her mother. They thrashed and thrashed, crack, crack but she refused to let go of her mother still crying out; "Mama, mama." Then she was quite and still, blood congealed around her shoulder and neck in red pools. She was just six years old. It was no way for a girl of that age to die, it was no way to due for a girl of any age. "She is with her mother now" Cole whispered sadly "Ruhe in Frieden" "Ruhe in Frieden" I repeated "Ruhe in Frieden" the whispers were starting and spreading, to many for the Kapo to control, "Ruhe in Frieden" After roll call Annalise cried, that one death could make such a difference in this place. That one small girl could make such happiness and such sadness in the same small act. To be with her mother. And Cole clung to Annalise as Annalise clung to Cole in that dark, deathly place there was a glimmer of salvation and hope. Annalise Cole dragged Annalise to the edge of the roll call square, they could see other faces peering around. Waiting. Then suddenly there was a yell and they burst from the underground passageways beating one of the Kapo into a pulp. He was a bloodied mess, and lay there while the prison inmates swarmed the area. "They've done it. We have control!" Shrieked Cole excitedly and Annalise smiled for what seemed like the first time since Cole had made it up the hill without dragging her leg once or when their Kapo dozed off during working ours and they had all enjoyed a well earned rest. Then without warning. They were flattened against the wall. There was too many people,now arming to get out. Cole was elbowed to the ground and Annalise lost her in the swarm of feet. She glimpsed one last look at her face pleading for help before Annalise lost her forever. Everything that had made her #life full was gone. Why was she the one who had survived? Annalise wanted to die, to leave this distraught world behind and to be at peace. When the US army liberated the camp everyone was free to leave the camp. Annalise searched for Cole but could not find her. It was hard to accept but she was gone, gone forever. Her secretive smile. Her comforting gaze and her soft, sweet smelling hands. It felt really strange, and different at the same time but Annalise loved her. Loved her with all her heart and there was pain and loss that seared like a white hot iron across her chest Annalise heard a cracked voice behind her,"Annalise" "Cole!?" She turned but It was a man. Half blind as one eye was shut and covered in throbbing red blisters and sores. Whiplash marks covered his body and he cradled one of his arms which was mauled and infected. But Annalise would know her gentle father anywhere and she threw herself towards him and held him like she would never let go. Annalise returned to Buchenwald only once more a few hours after liberation. She insisted and eventually her father let her go. If one of her her arms wasn't twisted abnormally and blood wasn't trickling from her broken nose Cole could have been sleeping. Her eyes were closed and she had a peaceful look on her face. Annalise bent down and kissed her lips gently before using one of the blankets for the huts to cover her, covering up the kind, beautiful girl that Annalise had once known and loved, forever The next few entry's are based on true accounts April 11 1945 Pfc.(private first class) James Hoyt, US army 6th armoured division I was driving one of the forces six wheeled vehicles that day with capt. Frederick Keffer, sgt. Herbert Gottschalk and sgt. Harry ward near what we now know to be Buchenwald concentration camp. We had two Russian prisoners with us who we were using as guides. We had been told by intelligence that we might overrun a large prison camp but we -- or at least I -- had no idea of either the gigantic size of the camp or the full extent of the incredible brutality. When we reached the electric barbed fence we searched along the perimeter and soon found a hole to fit through. Sgt ward remained in the vehicle with me and our two Russian guides while capt. Keffer and sgt. Gottschalk entered the camp. We awaited their return with anticipation. Capt.(captain) Frederick Keffer US army 6th armoured division As soon as we entered the camp we were thrown and heaved about by camp prisoners. The place was overrun. They had cleverly used an underground system and sent the camp guards and Kapo fleeing into the woods. As backup appeared from nearby divisions we liberated one of the largest German concentration camps. We found that only 904 children under the age of 17 had survived the camp, many of whose were orphans. But those lucky few who still had surviving parents rushed into their arms. Other called the names of loved ones in hopeless despair April 12 - 13 1945 Harry Snodgrass US army - toured the Buchenwald camp a day or two after it was liberated It was in the commander's office. There were lampshades made from the skin of Jews. In the crematorium they used the ashes of the inmates to fertilize the fields - the ashes of dead people. After an hour, it just became too much. I was stunned - just stunned. We don't even treat dogs like this.