The Past That Should Have Never Been

It was my first time visiting Poland. The place where bad things once were. I needed this trip. I needed to know what it was like. This was my only chance.

I ran towards the gate, then suddenly stopped. I could see people. They were walking around. The sky was filled with dark clouds instead of the bright blue sky behind me. It was only a small circle in an empty, abandoned concentration camp. Shivers went up my spine as I approached. I needed to continue to know what it was like. I reached my hand out to the circle-like portal trying to grasp it. If only I could touch the portal and see the past.

The closer I got, the farther away it seemed. I needed to see it for myself. I squinted and kept running. Then, I stumbled over what I thought was a rock. I opened my eyes and there I was on the other side of the portal. I turned around just in time to see the circle-like portal close. I closed my eyes then opened them. It was gone.

“No!” I screamed.

I reached my hand out, but it was too late. My face became covered in tears. I hyperventilated with my messy brown hair in my face.

Something yanked my arm. I stood up to prevent injury. My eyes met his gaze and I jerked my arm away.

“Thanks,” I mumbled with a hard frown.

I turned to face the other way and roughly wiped the hair out of my face. Before I could get myself together, I was pushed into a long line of women. I looked to the right and there was another long line, but with men. I looked to the left and there was another long line with young children, elderly, expecting mothers, people with disorders, babies, and the sick. I looked down my line. There were women and older teenagers in the line. As everything sank in, I realized one thing. Most of these people would die. And probably me if I couldn’t find a way back to my time.

The line with the elderly and others went one way, and I knew they planned to find their family that were in the other lines. But they were going to their deaths. I held back the tears as my line was led to a stone building. I might survive, but they wouldn't.

We were tattooed a number on the arm. As they tattooed my arm, I squinted and let out a hiss-like noise from the pain. Until that moment, I had never experienced anything more painful. When they were done, my arm was red. I'd be fine as long as the area didn’t get infected, but that was unlikely to happen. 

“Go over there and get ready for your shower,” the man said.

I stared at him coldly. He stood up, leaned forward, and struck his hand across my face. I jumped back and held in my tears. I quickly walked to where he pointed with my hand on my face where I was slapped. I was in for a long journey, that was for sure.

I looked at the ground and shuffled my feet to the next person. There, they cut off all my hair and forced me to remove my clothes. I shivered and couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. Once there were fifty or so people ready for the shower, two guards, one in front and one in back, led us into a room filled with shower heads, but no knobs to adjust the temperatures. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

They gave us each a set of clothes and a pair of shoes. I quickly put them on and we were led out of the shower room. The dress was white with dark blue stripes: Prison uniform. We stopped outside a barrack and were told what was expected of us. This would be our home for the next however long. I looked around to soak it all in.

Once I processed where I was and everything around me, I knew I had to get back to my time. The evening gong rang and we headed to dinner. I received my dinner, but it didn’t look appetizing so I gave it to a young woman that could use it more. It was watered-down soup with hardly any vegetables and no meat.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

I sat next to her and asked, “Where’s your family?”

“My father was put in the line with the men and my mother and four younger siblings were put in the other line along with my grandparents,” the woman answered.

“Do you know where your mother and siblings went?”

“No, but I plan to find them once the war is over.”

“You won’t find them,” I looked at her solemnly, “They went to the gas chambers disguised as showers.”

“What type of gas?”

“Poisonous gas. Deadly gas that would kill them almost instantly,” I pointed to the smoke in the distance. “See that?”

“Yeah?”

“Their bodies are burning right now or have already been burned.”

The woman suddenly stood up and shouted, “That’s not true! You’re lying! I’ll find them one day, just you wait!”

She stormed off with her bowl of soup. Tears poured down my face as I slowly stood up. It was no use. Hope was what these people needed to survive. I walked to my barrack and laid in bed. It was as hard as a wood floor, but it was a place to sleep, nonetheless.

How could I get to my time? How could I get out of the past? How could I survive? What did the next day have for me? Thousands of thoughts bounced around my head. Then, I was asleep.

I woke up early the next morning to the loud gong. I dragged myself out of bed and made my way outside for roll call. After an hour, we made our way to breakfast. It was porridge and I reluctantly ate it. I gagged a few times, but got it all down. I walked to the edge of camp. There were signs on the barbed wire fence that read “Warning: High Voltage.” I turned to the left and fifty women were lying there, hands on the fence. They’ve all been electrified. I backed up with my mouth wide open in shock. I turned around and sat with my knees against my chest.

“There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,” I said as I rocked back and forth.

The second gong sounded, but I spaced it out. I was supposed to be ready to work by the second gong.

A guard walked up to me and said, “Today’s your lucky day! You get to carry a fifty-pound boulder up some stairs for construction!”

I stood up and said, “No, I was told I would be sorting through the possessions of the new arrivals today. I got a little lost and wasn’t sure where to go.”

“If you hurry, you can catch the last bus. It’s that way,” the guard pointed.

I ran as fast as I could. When I reached where the buses were, the last one was about to pull out.

“Wait!” I shouted.

I climbed onto the bus and it pulled out. I let out a sigh of relief. I made it. I was going to be safe for another day.

I got to the warehouse safely and found an unoccupied desk. There was an endless pile of bags that stretched across the floor. None of them were mine. I picked up the first bag and dumped it on the table. I sorted the clothes in one pile and the jewelry in another. I kept going through the bags, sorting the stuff into different piles. There were pictures of families and notebooks and pens. The time flew by and it was lunch. We were given a small bowl of soup, just like what we got for dinner. I quickly ate and got back to work. If I was going to be here for a while, I might as well get on the guards’ good side.

The rest of the day was the same. Each woman kept working. Some were sneaking stuff in their coat. A bell rang and we stood up to go. We made our way to a bus station and got on the buses to the camp. The day was over and I was exhausted. All I could think about was sleep.

We climbed off the bus and were back just in time for dinner. I shuffled my feet towards the kitchen. The food wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. I knew my body wouldn’t handle this for long.

I went to my barrack and bed, hopeless. There would be no escape. The portal was gone. It wasn’t here nor beyond the gate. If it didn’t return soon, I’d be dead in a time that was not mine. I cried until I fell asleep. The next day would be no different.

I woke up to the sound of the gong. Wasn’t it a little too early? My legs ached and there were bug bites all over my arms and legs. I had no choice but to get up once again. I got ready for roll call, but on my way out, the lady at the front of the barrack stopped me.

“We’re going to be changing locations. Go join the line out there,” the lady said loud enough for everyone to hear.

All the women got up and joined the line outside. We marched through the cold while the guards made sure we kept moving. I did my best to keep up, but others did not do so well. One woman slowed down for she was out of breath.

A guard walked over to her and said, “Are you going to keep moving or do you wish to be shot?”

She moved faster but tripped.

All I knew was that I did not want to be her so I kept moving with everyone else. As I hurried forward, a gunshot was fired. Tears filled my eyes. There went another one. I had to keep moving. It was my only chance to figure out how to get back to my time. I couldn’t die in a time that was not my own.

My vision was blurry, but that did not stop me; I kept walking. My feet hurt from not having socks, but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered was surviving. It would only be a little bit longer until we would be rescued. All we had to do was keep moving and keep our heads up and shoulders back. That was what I did… until I tripped.

I was on my hands and knees, frozen in fear. What would happen to me? I was sure I was going to die. I heard footsteps approaching. It was the guard. I could sense his gun close to my head. I tilted my head up just enough to see the bottom of the portal.

I managed to move just enough to reach the portal. I didn’t know how it got there or why it returned, but I was grateful. I reached the other side of the portal and turned to watch it close behind me. I instantly broke down in tears and let out loud, ugly cries.

It was over. The pain and suffering was over. I was safe. I was back in my own time. The past was forever in the past. And it would never return nor mix with now.

I sat down and held my legs close to my chest. I rocked back and forth, crying.

“It’s okay. You’re alive. You’re safe,” I whispered to myself.

As I rocked, my hair- I had my hair back! I looked at my arm and the tattoo was gone! I had everything back! I was normal again! All I kept from the time in the past were the memories. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover, but I was back. I was all there. And never again would I ever go back to the past.