Cravitz - The Majesty of Death: Auschwitzs Paranormal Secrets

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TheMajesty of Death: Auschwitzs Paranormal Secrets by Amy Cravitz

My breath is labored and uneven, manufacturing little swirlsof white vapours like miniature clouds.

The air around me is icy and thick with fog.

I think I see a shadow. I strain my eyes trying to make itout. It is fleeting, and dissipates into thin air.

I shake my head in despair. Am I seeing things?

A lone rifle shot sounds in the distance, breaking thealready eerie silence. A fellow inmate, trying to escape, perhaps?

Another fellow inmate now searches through my pockets. If heis searching for food, he will find nothing.

He is gaunt yet purposeful, desperate yet calculating.Somewhere, somehow, I must have something of value he can scrounge.

His hand glides past my face and I reach up with rottingteeth and bite down on his baby finger.

He yelps and jumps back in astonishment. Am I not dead?

He finally sees the breath exiting my mouth. No, I am notdead. Not yet. Not this moment, and probably not for the rest of the evening.

My eyes are staunch defenders of my unwavering sanity. I seewhat is happening around me. I understand things all too well. I wish I was outof my mind so that I wouldnt know what is happening to me.

A rat blows on the soles of my feet. It is too smart tothink I am dead, and too hungry to scurry away when the scrounger shouts out atmy bite.

The rat holds its ground. If it can keep blowing on my feetthen it will numb the area, and then its tiny sharp teeth can slowly nibble atthe soles, taking hours to strip away the thick skin.

I am not a Jew. I am an atheist. But my parents were Jews,and for that I must suffer the consequences, languishing away on this miserablebunk bed, my frail skeleton like body wasting away.

There is no clock to go tick tock. There is only deathsangel at my door, going knock knock. I think that because I see it again, adark misshapen swirl of darkness. A blur of eye catching substance, dancingfrom the corner then streaking across the ceiling. A very fast shadow indeed.Am I losing my mind? Or am I getting ready to die. I think I know the answer.It is clearly both. Death plus insanity.

And an abundance of flies. Waiting to plant eggs of maggotsinto my flesh the second that I finally do expire. And I wonder to myself, howdo they know? How do those damn flies know that my time has come and thatandthat

The scrounger is back. He sees my thick grey socks dryingover the wooden railing. A nice friend of mine was kind enough to wash them ina puddle a few hours ago, then wring them out and drape them over the railingso they might dry. Nothing worse than dying in a dirty pair of socks, exceptfor the fact that the rat is overjoyed at the bare soles of my feet beingexposed to his numbing breath and stripping teeth. The little manipulatingbastard. The rats get fatter and we Jews get skinnier. Only I am not a Jew,dammit. I am an atheist. It is my parents who read the Torah. Only they aredead now, as are my two sisters and younger brother. All victims to the gaschambers and their bone disintegrating ovens. I once heard the story of a Jewwho somehow had found a way to beat the dreaded gas. He had found a way to usea hidden rubber pump gadget to beat the fumes, and so he only pretended to die.But that didnt stop them from tossing him alive into the ovens. I heard thathe screamed for minutes. Can you imagine? Escaping one horror just so that youcould condemn yourself to suffer a far greater horror? He thought he couldsneak away as they piled up the corpses, only it didnt work out that way.

The thought is an extra deadly one for me. Escaping thislife only to leap into the flames of hell? Isnt that where atheists atAuschwitz end up? And who can blame us for not believing in an almighty thatseems to ignore our cries and not lift a damn finger to help us.

Go ahead you bastard, I growl at the inmate as heshows no shame and swipes my socks. If he had a shred of decency in him hewould have put them on my feet to stop the rat, only he doesnt do it. Godwont punish him either, because I dont believe in God, so I dont think hewill take vengeance for me.

No God in my corner, no socks to stop the rats teeth, andno tick tocks to tell me how much time I might have left.

I guess Ill just have to play the death waiting game byear.

Another shadow, suddenly streaking across the room, onlythis time more pronounced. I dont think its a hallucination, although in mycondition, who can say? I turn my attention to the task at hand.

To be or not to be. That is the task and not just thequestion. Whether it is nobler to suffer the teeth of the rat and the pang ofexcruciating hunger, then to slip off quietly into oblivion without knowingwhat time it is, that is the question. But these damn shadows. I have heard thelegend of the Auschwitz shadows. Angels? Or the effects of an infected dyingmind.

I guess, that in a perverse kind of way, I cant blame theinmate for pilfering my fucking socks. After all, I wont be needing them whereI am going, and I will be going there very soon. Unless, of course, I receivesome kind of miracle from a God I dont believe exists. Or do I believe it now?Ive a right to change my mind at the last moment, dont I?

But what am I doing at Auschwitz in the first place? Sincewhen does a son have to pay for the sins of his parents? How does them beingJewish, make me Jewish? I told those knucklehead Germans dragging me awaykicking and screaming that I was the least Jewish person on the planet, but theydidnt believe me at all. Whats the use of being able to talk if people arenot going to believe a word you say?

The scrounging fellow inmate is back. Vampires can be foughtwith the wooden stake, and werewolves can be fought with the silver bullet, butwhat will it take to get rid of this damn vulture?

He lifts my decrepit bunk up, wondering if there is anythinghidden underneath my wretched, moth eaten mattress. There is nothing there andso he drops it down and then proceeds to check my pockets again. What kind ofasshole checks pockets that are already turned inside out? I suppose, in allfairness, that desperation will do that to a person.

My breath is even more labored now, and my lungs surgingupward for each hard to come by gasp.

Will I last the night? Do I even want to last the night?Ive got no socks, and Im starting to lose the soles of my feet. Not tomention that my hunger is such that I would eat the rotting wood off my bunk ifI thought my teeth were strong enough to manage it. And as usual, I am cold, ohso fucking cold. Always chilled as though in a fridge, and always shivering asthough I had fallen through a hole in an ice covered lake. But the flames ofhell will heat me up. Isnt that where unbelieving Jews go?

Is there really a God? I wonder, because I am desperatelyill, and my body in need of medicine that is always reserved for Germansoldiers only. We Jews are treated less than German dogs, who at least have avet or two to care for the canine wounded.

I am not sure what my ailment is, only that it is lethal,and ready to claim me as its next victim.

The angel of death is probably on the horizon. How else toexplain all these flapping shadows, like heavenly bats trying to discern justwhat the heck I truly believe in. But for now, the only being on my horizon isjust this damn scrounger, still poking around, not content to have merelystolen my socks, overturned my bunk, and turned my pockets inside out, notonce, nor twice, but thrice. Wow, an astonishing three times. It is as thoughhe is imitating a stone, and trying to squeeze blood out of it.