My eyes flicker open to see absolute darkness. Slowly they adjust to the faintest light shining through the gaps in boards that make up the walls of the room. Actually, it’s not a room at all. I’m in a train car. I can feel the vibration as the wheels speed down the tracks. Suddenly a horrific smell hits my nostrils. I jerk my head around and realize I’m surrounded by at least one hundred other people packed inside the train car. The smell is from all the bodies so closely compacted. A strong waft of ammonia must be from the urine soaked clothes and floor boards of people not able to go anywhere to relieve themselves. The bizarreness of the situation hits me. How did I get here? How is this possible?

   I look around at the odd crowd cramped in the train car with me. A little girl sits a few feet away. She wears a grey skirt and wool sweater. A small cap covers her neck length black hair. She looks up at me with sad eyes and a tear stained face. Lines remain where the salt water had washed away the dirt on her cheeks. Suddenly I notice something about the girl’s sweater. Where her left breast pocket should be, is a yellow patch, a six pointed star with something written on it I couldn’t make out. It hit me. "Oh my god," I whispered. Looking down at my own clothes, I saw the same patch on my blouse. "This can’t be happening," I thought, "That was during World War II, over sixty years ago. I can’t be here, I’m not even Jewish!" I ran my through my hair in anxiety, then stopped. This isn’t my hair…Pulling a strand into view, I saw dark brown hair cropped to my jaw length instead of the curly blonde locks I knew belonged to me. I felt the grip of consciousness let go as the scene before me slowly turned dark.

***

   I begin to come around as I feel a soft hand stroking my forehead. "Mom…," I murmured. "Poor child," a male voice said, "She was separated from her family." "She just fainted like she’d seen a ghost or something." said a second voice, this time a woman’s, perhaps older. My eyes flickered open and I saw three faces above looking down at me. There were two men, one quite old, one not so very old at all. It was the woman who had been stroking my brow, my head resting on her lap. The younger boy spoke, "There, she’s waking up now." His was the voice I hadn’t heard before. "Where am I?" I whispered. The three of them exchanged sad glances. The older man replied. "The question really isn’t where we are, but where we are going."

   It came back to me, the reason I’d passed out. I started to feel faint again, but stopped myself from losing consciousness. I knew where we were going. I knew, but almost wished I didn’t know. "How is this possible," I thought again. This can’t be a dream, it’s too real. I looked at the woman, the obvious worry and stress adding years to her already aged face. I knew the answer to the question before I even asked it, "Why is this happening to me?" A sad expression crossed her face. "We are Jews, she replied, "but God only knows why we are the victims." "Jews," I thought, "I am a Jew." I let that last thought linger in my mind. I am a Jew…but how? Too exhausted from all the information pouring into my mind, I let sleep take over my body as complex thoughts danced through my mind.

***

   When I awoke again, the sun was shining outside the train car. The heat of its rays caused the car to become very hot and humid, intensifying the pungent aroma of bodies, urine, and other excrements. The smell made me gag and almost vomit. However, I managed to control myself, knowing that doing so would only potentially add to the putrid stench. A few hours passed and the train began to slow. I jumped, startled from the grasp of a hand on my arm The old woman was there. "Stay with me," she whispered, "How old are you are you, child?" "Sixteen," I replied. "Eighteen," she argued. I tried to protest, "But-". "Eighteen ," this time her voice was stern and she gazed intensely upon my face. "Eighteen," I murmured.