Personal Narrative: George Stone

George Stone is my name but in this environment it really doesn't matter. The only thing I care about is staying alive. I am a Jew that's been taken to one of many concentration camps. I’ve been here for 4 months, nothing here is pleasant. People are dying every day and the smell of death lingers in almost every corner. I have 12 hours shifts where I move sandbags from one place to another, It’s been weakening my body drastically. I dream that I wake up and I everything would be back to normal. I would be home eating a large meal next to a warm fire, I just hope it never ends. I wake up to the yelling of the SS guards telling us to get out of bed. I get up but my body is screaming for me to fall back down on the bed and lice are eating my …show more content…
I Stand up and start walking in the same direction everyone else is going. I pick up my first sandbag, my body is so weak with every step I take my muscles are screaming for me to stop. But i must go on, if I stop or even slow down I will be shot. Then the sandbag and I reach our destination and I set it down on the ground. The man next to me stumbles and falls, one of the SS guard walks up to him and starts punching him. I watch in horror but I don't try to stop the SS guard. All I do is watch this poor man lose his precious life because he was to weak to carry a sandbag. Once the SS guard is satisfied with his cruel action I realize I must get back to work. As I’m walking back I try steady my breathing and prepare myself for the next sandbag But I’m scared that I don’t have enough strength to do this forever. When I pick up the next sandbag my arms are shaking from it’s weight. It would be so easy for me to drop the bag on the ground and just quit working but the likelihood of me surviving is pretty much nonexistent. So I just keep moving forward. I drop the sandbag to its destination but I physically can't do this anymore. I want to cry from the pain but I’m so dehydrated that no tears come out. Maybe I Should just let them kill me, the pain would go away and it wouldn't hurt anymore. I could just give up and be free. As I walk back to get another sandbag I can't handle the pain for one more second so I stop in the middle of the road and drop my sandbag on the ground. The world seems to be motionless in my mind. I close my eyes to prepare for what it next, for death, but all I feel is the cold breeze move past me. I open my eyes and not one SS guard is looking at me they're all distracted by other people. I take this as some sort of sign that maybe I still have a life to live or that today is just not the day i'm distended to