Think of all the beauty still around you and be happy - Eleanor Motion

One little girl, one war, one last letter. All she wanted was to feel wanted but life chose a different road.

Dear Mum,

The road to uncertainty, never ending, always ongoing. I don’t want to be here. Why am I like this? Why do they hate us? They killed you and dad. I am alone fighting for a crumb of bread. Why did you leave me! You lied to me! the last thing you said was,” Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.” Happy about what? There is nothing beautiful about a death camp. Death, depressing,

dying all mean the same thing. Am I among the forgotten? Why us they scream because all their faith in humanity is gone. They have taken everything, my hope, my innocence, my life. What is left? Nothing, as you have gone. You left me, maybe dying is just easier. I am nothing but an old fact forgotten in time. I don’t have a name just a number. How am I meant to live with a faith that is spat on or

have everything taken away because of a yellow star? I want to feel what happy used to be: not this camp of hell. I want them to feel my pain. I want them to know what it is like to cry yourself to sleep every night or work every day digging pits for people’s graves. I want them to smell the stench of burning bodies and I want to

have everything, everyone taken away until they are left with a number, no name, no home just a number, and clothes that have been worn by those who are dead.

They have taken every last bit of my hope, my strength and my fight to live. It would be easier to die, than to suffer though this hell. I want to run though green grass one last time. It rains every day, it is like the sun hates us like everyone else does. What have I done to them to make them want to kill me? I want to be free

like everyone else in this world. Why war? Why do we have to kill people to feel more powerful? Why can’t we “Think of all the beauty still around you and be happy.”

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