Sunday, April 22, 2012

#6

Open Your Eyes
Anonymous


“Open your eyes.”

How many times have I’ve heard those words?

In how many different tongues?

The years go by swift, like wind against the leaves. An intricate dance they do together; my new hobby to watch them in the park when my dear friend, Isaac, takes his time to contemplate over a meager pawn. I say nothing, for how quickly a single pawn could change the tides of such a game.

You could say that I’m older, but I do not feel that way.  I aged young, younger than most men should.

לפתוח את העיניים “ (Open your eyes)

My father sternly whispers to himself.

The day of my Bar Mitzvah. I was nervous, a bad habit of mine to shut my eyes. Though I had read the passages in practice for many years before, I was worried of mispronunciation. Looking back, such a fear seems so trivial, yet those were much happier days.

Otwórz oczy” (Open your eyes)

My beloved Sophie, the morning of our honeymoon.  How sweetly you pressed your lips upon my own. I was convinced God had given us one another. In my head I mapped out how we would spend the rest of our days together. Looking back, how naïve it was of me, yet not a day goes by where I do not relive us.

Aprite gli occhi” (Open your eyes)


My mother delicately places her hand on my shoulder. The day I lost God. We are no longer in the ghetto now, though the uncertainty fills the cattle cars.  There are many voices, some of reassurance, of prayer, of sobs, some in discussion of the fate that awaits us. I turn to Sophie, all I can keep saying is I love her.

Öffne Deine Augen!” (Open your eyes)

He spits in my face. I am kneeling in the mud. The sky is snowing, yet it is not winter. My head held firmly in his grip, I watch as the smoke rises from the stacks. I watch everything I’ve ever loved in this world ascend to the heavens, while I am still here. I no longer care for the matters that transpire on this earth.

“Open your eyes”

You son of a bitch, I want you to see this coming.  The Sauer is clenched firmly in my skeletal hands. The thought that I must be the image of death himself runs through my mind, I smile. I can’t remember the last time I smiled. “Bitte-“The shot drowns out the rest of the words. I will remember his face for the rest of my life.



открой глаза” (Open your eyes)

The nurse checks for any other diseases. Our liberators begin to disassemble the camps. I wish I could say that when they buried the bodies properly, there was a great burden lifted off my shoulders, but I cannot say that.  Much like no matter how hard they scrub away the grime on my flesh, the ink remains deep within the skin.  I will carry this burden for the rest of my life.



“Open your eyes”

Professor, have you dozed off again?  I’ve made my move 10 minutes ago.  “I’m sorry, Isaac. My old mind wanders sometimes” Like leaves they dance, and I watch.  But I still wish for the day. The day I can put them all to rest. The day I won’t have to...



Open my eyes.

If you would like to print this piece out to distribute it throughout your town, please include the following message:
After the Holocaust, the U.N declared "Never Again," would they let such an atrocity happen, but since then there have been Genocides in Bosnia, Cambodia, Rwanda and now, Darfur.
This short story is part of an anti Genocide, anti Ignorance project called  Open Eyes. To learn more and contribute go to www.openeyesforgenocide.blogspot.com

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