gliding over the rough water. The boat eventually went fast enough that the waves stopped catching up to it and the aft deck became peaceful and a lot drier. Dry enough, in fact, for Alani to enjoy the feelings of triumph, success, and perseverance while sitting and watching a beautiful southern ocean sunset.
~ Susanna Lowell
Survivor
Walk. Just walk. That is what I repeated to myself over and over. If I didn’t, I feared I would endanger them. My little town was covered in Hitler’s Teufel1. I remember when I first saw him on the little bunny ear TV, my parents adored him. And the worst thing is that I did too. “Was machst du, kleines Mädchen2?” “I-I-ch gehe ein-n-n-fach nach Hau-au-se!3” My worst nightmare, a Nazi was going to find out! They were all going to die! This is my Native Language! Why did I stutter! They’re all going to die! It’s all my fault!!! “Mach dir keine Sorgen, du bist sicher, kleines deutsches Mädchen.4” It was easy for him to say. I looked pure at first glance in their eyes. I hated it. The way they saw people. But arguing wasn’t a good idea right now. “Auf Wiedersehen5.” Just keep walking, keep your head down. I remember in September, maybe five to six years ago, Hitler attacked Poland. He had promised Deutschland would get what it deserved. That we would be brought to the glory days. We did not think he entailed war. My parents knew we had to get out of here. We traveled to the ferry. We were not the only ones with the same idea. “Wir sind dast da, Liebling6, soon we will be in America,” my Papa said. There was lots of rushing, I remember, I was holding my Mama’s hand. And then, I wasn’t. Minutes later the ferry left. And my parents left with it. I saw them with shocked and scared eyes. On top of the ferry, too far even to hear what they had to say. I just stood there. Feeling wet in my eye. That was the first time I felt alone. That day, I had gone back home. It was the only thing I could think of. What’s a girl who doesn’t trust authorities going to do? I was alone for a while. In the little apartment building where I had once felt safe. I heard shuffling outside. A note laid on the ground. Westbrücke 14 Uhr7. I actually went. It may had been dumb, but I was young. Under the bridge, there was a small fire, barely visible. Around four or five people sat close to this small flame. Then one of the women beckoned something. Four children, black hair, dirt covered faces, old clothes. The next thing I did was quite blöd8. In truth, I was a bit freaked out. I had stumbled back and fallen down. “Ist jemand da9?” said the woman that had beckoned the children. I came out slowly. “Bitte sei nicht böse10. I found a note saying to come here.” “Das ist das Mädchen, über das ich gesprochen habe11. She got left behind. She’s the one that was zurückgelassen12. She can help us fight Hitler.” The voice had been my neighbor. Soon, to be my commander. Not too long after I joined the resistance, and was brought to this little town. Where I was assigned to the house with the little blue door. You would not know that there was a cellar door in the living room. It was 1 devils 2 What are you doing, little girl? 3 I’m going home. 4 Don’t worry. You are safe, little German girl. 5 Goodbye. 6 Almost there, darling. 7 West Bridge 2 p.m. 8 Stupid 9 Is someone there? 10 Please don’t be angry. 11 This is the girl I was talking about. 12 left behind
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