The Holocaust-Personal Narrative

My foot fell asleep as I was crammed inside the dark closet hiding from them. I could hear the faint gunshots in the distance, yet, as time passed by, the gunshots became louder and louder. The gun smoke which leaked in through the walls, made me nauseous as it filled my lungs like a gas chamber. Though I dared not to cough, in fear that someone would find me. Nauseous and confused, I listened to them as they were all yelling something in German. I did not understand a word, but I knew what they were after, me. To them my body was like a treasure chest, dead or alive they would be satisfied either way. For their master rewarded them for every death they caused; what a sick game they played. To make their game easier, they made us wear arm bands in order to spot us quicker. We were labeled like chickens in a coop all lined up ready to be killed just for the satisfaction of others. The thought of death lingered over us like a phantom in the night, never knowing when it would come. Their horrid game became a tragic reality for us, and had only one purpose; to eliminate the Jewish race. …show more content…
They ran around like mice trying to find something to feed off of. Their hunger for human flesh was greater than my actual hunger for food. The happiness on their faces at the sight of human blood spilling was pure disgust. However my heart dropped when one of them caught a young Jewish man about my age by the collar as he tried to run away. They yelled at him but he simply did not understand, so they shot him, thinking he was some uneducated fool just because he did not speak their language. Though what made my heart pound like a drum was the fact that the young man looked just like