Adalia Amsel

December 1, 1938

    My dear brother always told me that Jews are a bunch of asshead and bullshits.  As much as I love my brother, I love the Jews.  I sometimes pretended to listen to his complaints about the Jews and how Hitler will guide us through the misfortune into the light.  I live in a town right next to a Jewish community.  I’m not allow to go there, because Armon, my brother, think that if I go there, I will catch some of their misfortune.  What a child?  How old is he again?  There is no such thing as “the Jews are misfortune and will bring you bad luck.”  Trust me, I’ve live a whole week with a Jewish family before, and they’re all nice.  I was lucky that Armon didn’t find out about it.  It’s a good thing he doesn’t visit me often like he used to, because now, I can befriend more with the Jews and not have to worry about Armon having to cut my head off if my secret let out.  That is, if my secret were letted out, and Armon found out about it, would he cut his own little precious sister’s head off?  I bet he would not do it.  He love me so much that he would leave his “important” task just to be with me when I feel lonely or have a cold.  I don’t get why he hate the Jews that much.  Just because Hitler had told us that the Jews are bad and all, it doesn’t mean to change your feeling of the Jews to hatred.  Armon was fine with the Jews before, he even brought chocolate bars from work and gave them to Jewish kids.  He is such a fool to be following and obeying Hitler every move.  He need to learn how to think for himself, and not have other people to think for him.  Oh that remind me, my going to the train station to wish all the Jewish kids good luck.
    As I’m walking down the hill to the main train station of the town, I see figures of someone near the wood.  It didn’t bother until I heard shattering sounds of glasses.  I quickly turn back and ran to the location.  A Nazi?  One of my Armon’s friends.  What the hell is he doing here?  Wasn’t he suppose to be with my brother at the city?  Who is he with?  I got closer, and hid behind a tree.  I gasped.  A Jewish family?  It can’t be.  I erased the thought away.  I sneaked in a bit more, just to get a clear look at the family.  The fist thing I notice was the blood the Jewish man’s head.  Then, I looked at Arlo, the Nazi, and see him holding on a broken glass bottle, blood still dripping to the ground and little pieces of glass were shattered around Arlo and the Jewish man.  Holy crap!  The soil, all soaked up blood, and with every steps he takes, looked like he’s walking in mud.  The Jewish family, that’s the family I used to go live with for a week when Armon doesn’t visit me.  The kids are terrified, holding on to their mother, who is half behind one of the trees back there.  Sift as a rock, I could not do anything.  What can I do?  What should I do?  Arlo dropped the bottle, pulled out his blade, and stabbed the Jewish man.  With the crying of horror from the kids and their mother, the corpse laying down in the middle of the wood, and the crazy Nazi covered with blood, I left them and continued to walk to the train station, continuing what I was going to do in the first place....to wish the Jewish children “good luck.”  They will need it.