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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Blowout (04/28/11)

TITLE: Eat Up
By Laury Hubrich
05/04/11


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One last bend before I lost sight of camp. I turned around and watched the smoke curl lazily from the stack. Innocent… Far enough away, I could barely inhale the scent. Didn’t matter. I carried it with me every second of my new reality. I didn’t want to forget. Not ever. I punched my hand in a hidden pocket of my pants. The contents would stay safe until the perfect time – Yahweh would let me know when and what to do with it.

As soon as I turned back, the neon colors of the sweet peas took over the scenery and assaulted my senses. I never could get used to the smell. Just as I had done each day this week, I bent over and heaved my meager breakfast onto a small patch of the flowers.

Luck or providence, as my bubbe (grandmother) always said, I was born blond and blue-eyed. No one’s sure why. No one else in my family looked like me. A miracle, my parent’s declared: a miracle that was to keep me alive and in good favor with the officers in command and their wives. Years later I knew the reason. A born story teller from the time I exited my mother’s womb, Yahweh chose me to tell this story and many others; stories so outrageous that they could never be made up.

At the time of this one, though, I didn’t know Yahweh’s reasoning. Each night as I walked back to camp, humiliated beyond belief that I was able to nibble on fresh bread and fruit, I watched the stack with its smoke floating eerily to Heaven. I prayed to God my family was alive and not part of the spirits I imagined I saw waving at me on their journey home.

I shook my head to come back to the present. This day…it was different…the Fuhrer’s arrival. It was his birthday and the plans had been going on for days. A blowout affair, it had been said. The camp was on high security. Prisoners were stuck in the barracks for fear the ladies in attendance might see something that might be offensive, meaning, Jews of course. My family and everyone else, waited for me to come back that evening and tell them side-splitting tales that would not make the Fuhrer look good, that they could count on.

I fought my family. I didn’t want to come and witness a man so ruthless that he could destroy a whole race of people, my people. Who was he to play god? I felt again the contents of my pocket and I couldn’t help but smile. Was it sinister? I didn’t care. Couldn’t care…wouldn’t.

I entered the house and set about my assigned tasks. We all worked like a well-oiled machine. All knew their orders. I was an anomaly. No other Jew was in attendance. I could slip in unnoticed. An officer’s wife always left clothes for me to change into before anyone else started work for the day. She was nice, oh, and pretty. I so wished she wasn’t married, and German. But she was, so it didn’t matter.

She whispered to me secrets she never should have told. Her husband surely would beat her if he knew but I would never betray the blond beauty of the manor and in exchange, she fed and clothed me so no one remembered that I was one of the contemptible animals the government was so ably destroying. Because of her, I was safe on this day and each day thereafter…

Each of the Fuhrer’s favorite foods was proudly displayed on the menu. It would never be said that Auschwitz was a poor camp, no indeed. If guests could eat as well, surely the prisoners could eat a quarter that. That’s what was whispered in dark corners by guests who tried to retain a conscience during a time when consciences were hard to retain.

When the staff gathered at the front to greet Hitler’s entourage, I felt Yahweh say go. Each place setting had a bowl of soup. Inside my pocket hid ashes, ashes of men, women, children – human beings that these people were trained to call animals.



This blowout party would get even better, Fuhrer Sir. You sit and eat your baklava and drink your soup. Only Yahweh will know that you are swallowing a half dozen people you gassed with rat poison. You, Fuhrer. Eat up. Enjoy your party. I’ll stand here and smile dutifully. Heil Hitler.



Author's Note:
The events in this story are completely fictional, yet based on horrific true events in history


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This article has been read 446 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Gwen Plauche05/06/11
I loved this and could not stop reading. Very well written - thanks for sharing your work!
Kate Oliver Webb05/06/11
Awesome tale of an horrific time and evil incarnate--very well written. Paced exactly right, it kept me almost breathless until the end, when I felt myself gasp in horror (even though the end wasn't really a surprise). Excellent!!
Beth LaBuff 05/06/11
Wow, you did it justice (if that's possible for such a horrific time). I love the way you skillfully kept the reader in suspense concerning what he carried in his pocket. Your story haunts and makes us remember what should not be forgotten. Excellent work!
Jody Day 05/07/11
Very well written and gripping.
Amanda Brogan05/07/11
A blond-haired, blue-eyed Jew would be blessed at that time in history indeed! You handled this subject very nicely; not giving away too much in the beginning, but allowing the reader to fit the pieces together as they go. Chilling ending, well-delivered.
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 05/08/11
Wow what A story! I enjoyed every but of it. The ending took me by surprise, though the thought of it is horrific. It's good to be reminded of the horrific things that happened so long ago and it's an original way to give him a taste of the horror. May we never forget.
Margaret Kearley 05/10/11
Amazing and heartbreaking story, brilliantly written. You draw back the curtain a little more on the unspeakable atrocities of Auschwitz.
Rita Garcia05/10/11
You caught my interest and held it strong. The tension and suspense mounted, and then you delivered, in a big way! Fantastic!
Sara Harricharan 05/13/11
Chilling. Absolutely chilling. Wow. You wrote this so well--the suspense and the real terror that was alive during that time. Really nicely done! ^_^