Living was longer living when you were enslaved and forgotten in here. Death camp was what we called the place. Death camp was what it was, any mention of freedom or liberty or free will or any such 'vile' words would secure you a spot on the death roll call. But then weren't we all on the same roll call?
My first week here had opened my eyes to the evil men carried in their hearts and for the mere rejection of military power being supreme, humans were led into one of the many massive ovens, it was in this camp that I first smelled the acrid scent of burning human flesh.
They say being burned alive is the most painful thing that could happen to a human. I refuse to believe that logic. The most painful thing is watching your family stand in line, chained to one another.
The most painful thing is watching them stripped of their clothing and forced into the large oven, pushed in by red hot pitch forks while the officers laugh and spit on them, yelling loudly that thee oven be sealed up and heated.
In here, we all would die. Eventually. Timing was what seperated everybody's fate. Not that you needed to do anything against the 'law' but then, one could die for sport. For the laughs. Just so they could laugh. One could die for a piece of bread. For a cup of water. For a piece of clothing.
Once I saw four officers make fun of a young girl on a mudded patch within the camp ground. They passed her round amongst each other while ripping off whatever piece that covered her body. She was a fine specimen of a girl. Rather too pretty to be in this death camp. The prisoners moved about their business like nothing was happening. Better to have your execution date extended than involve yourself in the tragedy of just one poor girl.
Nobody interfered. We just stood watch.
When the girl was naked and covered in mud they spat on her and proceeded in taking off their pants. In a brave, or rather foolish attempt to save herself, she grabbed a knife from their hostlers and stabbed one in the ground. His scream was like music to our ears as she stabbed him twice more. The other officers kicked her in the head and stomped on her chest till she was limp, by now several more officers had joined in the brutal beating. The stabbed officer was taken away and the many others that were left had their way with the girl.
Still she didn't die. It was a miracle. A miracle nobody needed at this point, because now they would finish her off. They had numerous ways of doing that. We watched as they dragged her limp body through the mud and past the large ovens heading towards the gallows.
Then slowly, it began to rain.
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Nice article dear 😊☺️