A Child's War... part 2

** to see part one look under my name. January 24, 1943 It has been a while since I wrote.  Death is everywhere, I can almost smell it in the air.  The terror and darkness has only spread as time goes by, leaving a trail of tears behind..  Yesterday, a cold, blistering day, my Father and two older brothers were arrested, the only family I have left.  I was hiding, peeking through the cracks in the secret staircase room.  It is undoubtedly my fault.  I watched but did nothing.  Now, as I am alone, I follow many other orphans to the children's home; a last resort in a world that has come to last resorts, and I am nothing.  What I have become, is nothing but nothing at all.  I am alone, and all I can do now is pray upon the forgotten god.  A god I don't even have faith in.  What a lie, nothing but a shear cover up.  That's what all life is anyway:  A cover up.  To cover the fear that our terrors behold.  They are just as, or more afraid then us, which makes me feel worse to know that this is what I have become because of them, the scared children that they act and are.  They are nothing, and I am more of nothing, internally screaming out for help from whoever cares to see past the lies.  What is the point of this anyway; this dehumanization; this cruelty, and this blood bath?  Is there any point?  Any simple resolution to come by?  Will I even live to know the answers?  It doesn't matter anymore anyway, whether I live or die I know that I was right, and to any and all who didn't believe I pity you, as I pity myself, as pitiful as that may be. Written October 19th, 2001 © on Oct 19 2001 07:39 AM PST   0 • 1