Untitled by Noah Young

I glanced around the room, not paying too much attention any single element. Each an every part of the room brought a short flashback, memory, nostalgia; Some were significant, others were faint.

I remembered that night. A horrible knocking, no, pounding, on the door woke us all. We knew they had come for us. With their army green suits, and red arm bands. I remember when I was little thinking that their symbol looked the rays of the sun. That was before I knew what Nazis were all about, until they came for my brother. They said he needed to join them, to start his training. Little by little they picked up the hints our house had to offer. The black Yamaka on top of Father’s history book really gave us away. We were Jews. They were Nazis. Some would hat such a night, but for our family, what happened then was a blessing. The 2 men could have killed us. Simply taken out their guns and fired. O r they could have taken us. Preformed their terrible experiments on us. I remember them simply saying, “You’d ought to leave here. Nothing good can come of staying.” And with that, they grabbed my brother, and left. I remember the look in my brothers eyes as he was carried away. I will always remember his eyes. Every day after that until we got to America is a blur. All the chaos, the walking in the night, the sleeping during the day. All I can really remember is that we took a train, and then a boat.

Being in our old house after these many years was paralyzing, I was enraptured by memory. And finally I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. I turned around and left.