[a.tribute.story] -- [by Blackie]

[>>BLACKiE! ]}]

[This is a tribute story to those whom were innocent who died during those dreaded years of 1938-1945. Wikipedia.com was my source for all this information that is included in the story.]

Head down, eyes down, and just keep walking. Yeah, everyday I had to do that – walking by the ghetto during the year of 1941. Mama didn’t believe in me going to the school to get educated, so I was home schooled. Even so, she would usually send me out on errands. Today, I was supposed to go to the bakery and pick up bread. As the barbed wire fences came into my sight, I held my breath so that the stenches from the other side of the fence didn’t enter my nose.

Just keep walking. Don't pay any attention to the ghetto beside you. I held my breath until I was practically red from lack of oxyen. Once I was sure that I wasn't anywhere near the ghetto, I slowly let my breath out. Looking up, I found myself at the entrance of the bakery. I breathed in the rich smells of yeast and flour and opened the door, walking in and letting it shut behind me with a loud noise so that they knew I was here.

"Why lookie here!" a shrill voice called out from behind a counter. Instantly, I could see the pudgy woman who had uttered the phrase. "It's Lena's lil' boy! Here to pick up the bread, darlin'?" she asked, a grin spreading across her face as she reached underneath the counter and pulled out a large bag filled with bread. She threw it in the air, and being an expert at catching things, I easily caught it. In return, I tossed the lady the money that Mama had given me.

"Thanks!" I called over my shoulder, trying to remember my manners as I quickly darted out the door. Just before the door slammed shut, I could catch the words that the lady said -- "That fifteen year ol' lad should be gettin' a nice lil' ol' prissy gal to hang aroun' with. My perfect Dolly would do the trick and capture his interest instantly."

Psh. Yeah, like that would ever happen. I made my way down the snow covered streets, nearly doubling over with laughter. "Dolly", as her mother called her, was as pudgy as her mama, always stuffing her face with sweets that her mama showered her with.

The true name of "Dolly" was actually Elizabeth. I was probably one of the few people who knew that, and Elizabeth to me was just a long name for the nickname "Liz" and from that nickname, I derived the name, "Lizard." To tell the truth, in my opinion, the name fit perfectly.

[>>BLACKiE! ]}]

Anyway, I walked along. I began whistling, letting a mellow tune sound out in the air before I worked it into more delightful, upbeat tunes. When I caught sight of those gates again, however, I immediately stopped whistling and held my breath. I continued walking, but I sped my pace up. My eyes watered, but there wasn't much I could do about that. I covered my nose with my hand so as to not breath in the stenches that hung around this place like an aura of doom.

Suddenly, as I was walking past those barbed wire fences, a hand shot out unexpectedly through the fence. I stopped short, my mouth gaping wide open. Quickly, though, I shut it as to not let the smells waft in and leave a bad taste. Too late. I spit on the ground, trying to rid myself of that terrible taste.

Looking through the fence wildly, I saw who had stuck their hand out in a beggar's sort of way. My mother had warned me about this. The person who had done it was a female, about my age. She was dressed in tattered rags, and I could easily see her shivering through them. Dirt and grim that would need a long, hot bath to get rid of were caked onto her skin. Her eyes looked as if they were sunken. They were a beautiful golden color, something I had never seen before. Although those inside this... this place all had eyes that no longer contained anything except despair, I noticed a faint gleam of -- what was it? -- hope in her eyes, something that was extremely rare to come by these days. Her hair, dirty of course, was a surprising blond color. It was extremely blond that it looked almost white. How would you call it? Platinum blond, I recalled, remembering what I had picked up from girl's talk when I walked by a group of the species.

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