How could you not lose sight of what was real and what was all a dark nightmare? “I pinched my face. Was I still alive? Was I awake? I could not believe it. No, none of this could be true.” (21) Each prisoner was stripped of his name and metaphorically tossed aside with his shirt and trousers. Everyone became one of millions of numbers to eventually be scratched out once their breath had given out. Chlomo Wiesel was Elie’s last tie to who he actually was and where he really came from. As they entered the atrocity that was Auschwitz they did so hand in hand, tying each other together and to the life they were leaving
How could you not lose sight of what was real and what was all a dark nightmare? “I pinched my face. Was I still alive? Was I awake? I could not believe it. No, none of this could be true.” (21) Each prisoner was stripped of his name and metaphorically tossed aside with his shirt and trousers. Everyone became one of millions of numbers to eventually be scratched out once their breath had given out. Chlomo Wiesel was Elie’s last tie to who he actually was and where he really came from. As they entered the atrocity that was Auschwitz they did so hand in hand, tying each other together and to the life they were leaving