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Broken But Not Crushed ~Chapter 4



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Sun Dec 12, 2010 8:08 am
d@ydre@mer27 says...



Chapter 4 (sorry this took so long to post, life's been busy lately.)

Strange hands reached out to Liesabet as she lay curled in a ball on the filthy floor of the cramped truck and screamed in agony. They attempted to cover her mouth and muffle her cries but she fought them away. The memory of her father's last desperate plea for mercy tortured her mind.

"Please.....they will hear you", one man pleaded.

"Can't you shut her up?", another shot in her direction angrily.

None of this did anything to calm or console her however and she continued to sob loudly and scream her father's name.

After a moment another spoke up, this time it was a stoic middle-aged woman in a fading green housecoat who said brusquely, "If you don't shut up they will shoot you...I saw it happen yesterday."

At this startling statement Liesabet gave pause, shocked into silence. Her eyes flickered down the row of people until they rested upon the woman. Beside her sat a man who was hunched over with his face turned away from her, presumably her husband. He turned his gaze towards her, met her eyes with a blank, hopeless stare and conceded with a nod. Though the interior of the truck was dark Liesabet could make out the state of the left side of his face. It was grossly swollen and was dripping with a sticky substance.

"Shhhh, someone hissed, they're coming out!"

The tension in the dark truck rose dramatically and everyone stiffened in terrified anticipation. Liesabet balled a fist and shoved it into her mouth in an attempt to hide her sobs as tears spilled down her cheeks like a flood. She could hear the soldier's heels clicking down the front steps of her now silent and empty home and towards the trucks. A moment later she cringed as a window shattered loudly and several of the soldiers audibly chuckled.

A moment later another sound reached her ears, a familiar sound. The sound that can only be made when a bow is drawn across the strings of a cello.

Her heart sank as she realized that they had her beautiful cello. Tears ran fresh down her face as they laughed and continued sawing at the strings roughly and amatuerishly, producing a tortuous racket. It was several minutes before the sounds ceased and the soldiers were ordered back to the trucks. She felt an overwhelming sense of rage and fury, how dare they.

Liesabet covered her ears expecting the next thing she would hear would be the sound of her beloved instrument splintering to pieces on the streets. But no such noise came, only the sounds of the trucks reluctantly grinding to life. With a sudden lurch, they began to move.

Suddenly desperate to see her home one last time she elbowed herself to a kneeling position and shoved her way back to the tear in the canvas amidst grumbles and protests. She watched as her childhood home disappeared into the darkness appearing so forlorn, its front door hanging open and the broken window glinting in the dismal and sallow light of the streetlamps.

Turning away once it had finally gone from her view completely she felt a sense of deep loss. The violent initial emotion had passed leaving her feel empty and weary, not even really caring where they were all headed. She thought of her parents, and of Rory. How soon would it be before he discovered her father and realized what had happened?

A voice broke into her thoughts. "Where do you suppose they're taking us?"

"I heard they have a prison in Wolfsburg where they are holding us. But that is just a rumor", an older man said gruffly.

"No, no...one of the guards mentioned a camp", a younger man spoke up which evoked several worried exclamations.

"A camp? What kind of camp?"

"Mommy are we going to die?", a little blonde girl whimpered to her mother who pressed the child's head to her chest and shot a furious glance at the men. They immediately fell silent again.

Liesabet drew her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them, closing her eyes. She began to weep again, this time silently and to herself. She wished her mother was with her, more than anything. She longed to rest against her mother's form and have her arms wrap about her comfortingly. Her tears dripped unnoticed onto her lap and she made no effort to wipe them away. She began to feel physically sick to her stomach with the stress and heartache that she felt. There were no words, only tears.

The trucks rumbled on for miles and miles, stopping once briefly for several minutes only to continue on. Liesabet could see the dark skies outside slowly slipping away, surrendering to the dreary greyness that was early morning. Around an hour later, she felt the road change and become more uneven. The truck jerked and struggled haphazardly about through the ruts and potholes, leaving the weary passengers inside constantly on edge.

Finally at long last the procession jolted to a stop and for the first time in hours Liesabet heard complete silence except for a lone dove who cooed mournfully somewhere off in the distance. It ended all too soon as she began to hear the soldiers hopping down from their positions and heading for the back of the trucks. Many of them complained in German about how long the drive had taken.

The dull stab of fear returned immediately and Liesabet found herself shaking. The passengers sat completely silent, except for the little blonde girl who began to whimper in confusion. Moments later the canvas was ripped aside and the morning light temporarily blinded them all.

"Raus, raus, raus!", the soldiers began to scream.

Squinting in the light Liesabet stood and felt her arm being grabbed roughly. She was yanked from her cramped position and felt herself tumble out of the truckbed and onto the soft earth. Her leg cramped from so many hours of sitting in the same place and she yelped in pain. She heard the rest of the passengers being escorted from the truck in the same manner and she heard their screams of terror amidst the soldier's commands.

Rubbing her eyes she stood and hopped on one foot, trying to relieve the intense stabbing pain and at the same time scanning her surroundings. What arrested her attention immediately was the barbed wire fence that stood well over 7 feet tall and wound around what appeared to be a camp of some sorts. The man in the truck had been right. The next thing she searched for was her mother amongst the crowd. She called out her name but was drowned out in all the noise.

Many of the people assembled began to panic and cries arose amongst them. Children screamed and cried while parents tried desperately to quiet them while all the while struggling to calm themselves. The morning air was chilly and many of the people, like Liesabet wore nothing more than their nightclothes and trembled with the cold and fear.

Once all the people had been gathered from the trucks the soldiers began to prod them along the road towards the encampment, quick to lash out at any that did not move fast enough to suit them. Liesabet craned her neck in all directions, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mother in her white nightgown but could not see her.

As they neared the gate which swung open, aided by two of the guards, Liesabet got a better look at the inside. Rows upon rows of barracks lined up for an eternity while in the front nearest them lay four or five larger buildings with unknown purposes. Guards were everywhere, and a Nazi flag flew freely from the gatepost.

Liesabet gave one last look back to freedom as they were herded through the gates before they swung closed behind the group. A commanding voice called their attention to the front where a little man stood dressed impeccably in an officer's uniform. A haughty sneer was pasted on his face. On eiether side of him stood three soldiers.

"Sie werden nun getrennt werden!", "You will now be separated!", he shouted. "Frauen(Women) and Kinder(Children) to my right, Aber(Men) to my left, The alt(old) and the krank(sick) down the middle! Eile! Eile! Eile!" When they did not move right away, he nodded to the soldiers who began to tear people away from the group and shove them to the sides. Chaos ensued as families were torn apart, given no chance to say goodbye. All that could be heard were the sounds of anguished screams, weeping, and half-choked out shouts of farewell. None of them knew if they would ever see their loved ones again.

As she was near the back of the line Liesabet saw the full extent of the horrors. The middle-aged couple whom she had spoken with in the truck were clinging to eachother and refused to be separated. No longer stoic the woman clung to his neck and wailed. The officer in command nodded to a guard and a rifle butt to the woman's temple knocked her into unconciousness and she crumpled to the ground. The man was flung weeping into the men's line. The woman was left where she lay and the process continued, forcing people to step over her motionless body in order to do as they were told.

The worst was yet to come however as Liesabet witnessed the single most heartwrenching act in her life. A young mother who was attempting to conceal her squalling newborn in the folds of her shawl reached the beginning of the line and in one swift instant before the girl could react, the officer ripped aside her shawl and tore the baby from her arms. The girl fell to her knees screaming and with her arms outstretched, beseeched the man with all of her heart to spare the child. The man's face didn't budge as he nodded his head for the woman to be taken away. She was dragged by her arm through the dirt and thrown into the woman's line screaming for mercy.

The baby he held at arm's length as he craned his neck and seemed to be searching for something. His gaze fixed on a wheelbarrow several feet away filled with dirt. Stalking over to it he tossed the baby carelessly atop the mound ignoring it's screams. His face showed to emotion whatsoever, no remorse. Liesabet was shaken to the very core of her being, such behavior was not human.

The mother fought to break free from the group and run to her baby as the women tried to hold her back, knowing there was nothing she could do. But there is nothing stronger than the love between a mother and child and the woman managed to tear away from their grip. Like a mother bear protecting her young she charged at the officer, hatred and revenge burning in her eyes.

Warned by a guard the officer turned around and cooly pulled out his pistol. Leveling it at her he fired four shots in succession and watched emotionless as she fell hard in the dirt at his feet, blood pooling beneath her chest and face. A silence fell over all after that.
Last edited by d@ydre@mer27 on Mon Dec 27, 2010 7:22 am, edited 3 times in total.
"A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere." ~courtesy of one of history's funniest men, Groucho Marx. ^_^
  





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Sun Dec 19, 2010 3:28 pm
Kiwisatsuma says...



Hi again! :)

Sorry it took me so long to get round to commenting on this! Partly it's down to me procrastinating, and partly it's down to me really not being able to think of much to comment on, because wow, this story is getting really, really good. Unrelentingly angsty, but amazing. XD Seriously though, the moment where she could hear them playing her cello really got to me, and the ending was genuinly quite difficult to read. You did an excellent job of showing the pain and ruthlessness.

A few small niggly things:

ignoring it's screams

If you're saying 'it's' as in 'belonging to it' you don't need an apostrophe. You only put one in when it's 'it's' short for 'it is'.

"Please.....they will hear you", one man pleaded.

The comma needs to be inside the speech mark, not outside.

"Can't you shut her up?", another shot in her direction angrily.

You have a question mark here, so you don't need a comma.

Liesabet was shaken to the very core of her being, such behavior was not human.

This is a comma splice: two seperate clauses connected only by a comma. You need to either split it into two separate sentences, put a semi-colon in instead or rephrase it to include a connective. There's a better explanation here. :)

Also, I found the German got in the way a bit.

"Sie werden nun getrennt werden!", "You will now be separated!", he shouted. "Frauen(Women) and Kinder(Children) to my right, Aber(Men) to my left, The alt(old) and the krank(sick) down the middle! Eile! Eile! Eile!"

The bit where it had the phrase in German and then in English worked okay, but the bit where it has individual words in German and then the English in brackets after didn't really work for me. It's really hard to read that sentence because it's broken up and you have to go through and pick out the English, and try and piece it together. I think it might be better if you just have the sentence all in English so that readers don't get distracted from the story by language issues. Also, doesn't 'aber' mean 'but'? 'Herren' is 'men'.

Seeing as this is a love story, I thought it was quite strange that througout the entire chapter Liesabet didn't think about Rory once, and come to think of it she didn't think of her family much either. If I was in her position one of the first things on my mind would be wondering what had happened to the people I loved and if they knew where I was, so yeah. Overall I thought the balance between describing what was happening and describing Liesabet's feelings was good, but that's the one thing that felt missing to me.

Overall though, I'm really enjoying reading this story, and I'm looking forward to the next part! :D
  





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Sun Dec 19, 2010 9:10 pm
borntobeawriter says...



Hey there, Day.

Thanks for the request! You're right; I don't read HF but this was really good. Like Kiwi said, I found the end difficult to read. Nicely done.

What I wanted to mention is your lack of scenes. Dialogue would have been good here, for instance, in the truck. She sees the couple she got to know in the truck; it would have been good to get to know them more. So when you would mention them again, we'd associate to the truck scene. Maybe she will find a surrogate mother here, or someone younger to care for and keep her mind off things.

But maybe that's just me. Kiwi pointed out the nitpicks I had, I didn't find anything else. Except for a few commas here and there that need to be inserted. I simply suggest you go back and reread it. Perhaps outloud (because obviously, when I go back, I can't see where they were needed! haha)

Sorry I wasn't more help, feel free to ask for another review for this anytime!
You are very talented!

Tanya :d
  





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Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:04 am
Azila says...



Hello, day.

First off, I'd like to say that I think this is probably my favorite chapter yet. It feels like everything up until now has been a sort of introduction, and now is where the story actually starts. Your pace is much improved over previous chapters, and I feel like you are writing "in the moment" a little more, which makes the writing more immersive. I am also really impressed at how much more emotional the writing is in this chapter--you don't have a very flowery or poetic style, but you've still managed to suck me in and really make me feel what Liesabet is feeling. Well, some of it anyway. The part with the mother and child was really hard to read, as it should be.

You have a very raw, neutral style... almost journalistic, in a way, since it's sort of like you're just reporting the facts, not delving too deeply into the emotions. In previous chapters, it wasn't very effective, in my opinion, but suddenly it's starting to work. You know what I think the difference is? Pacing. Like I said before, in the previous chapters it felt like you were skimming over a lot, so I wanted what you did describe to be more in-depth. But now you're skimming less, so I'm starting to see how your style works. My suggestion is that you flesh out the beginning a little more because I have to say, I'm really impressed with what I see here and I'd like to see the rest of the novel be just as effective.

Along those same lines, I'd like to know more about Liesabet's "normal." I can tell these events she's going through now are traumatic for her (as they would be for anyone) but I'm finding it hard to tell the exact way they affect her because I'm not sure about her background. Is she used to feeling scared for her life around soldiers? Is she used to being treated like less than an animal? Of course, these are things a person can never really get used to, but I still want to know more about where she's coming from, because that will help me understand her and relate to her more. You could provide this background either through expanding the beginning (like I suggested in the previous paragraph), but you could also just try hinting at it along the way. By that I mean, you could add in things like "she was ordinarily nervous around the Nazis, but never before had she felt such disgust and hatred as burned in her now..." I'm not suggesting you say that exactly, but I think you get what I mean. If we don't have an idea of what is ordinary for her, it will be hard for us to understand how, exactly, this is extraordinary.

Another sort of similar thing I'd like to mention is anticipation. How much do Liesabet and the other prisoners know about what is going to happen to them? Do they have any idea what they are in for? Have they heard of the camps? Are there any people among them who think that everything will be more or less fine in the end? I don't want to have questions after reading this which could be answered by looking in a history book. I want you to portray the Holocaust as though it were something you are making up--as though it's something your reader knows nothing about. Because depending on who your reader is, they may know surprisingly little about the topic. So I suggest not assuming that the reader knows anything. Or, better yet, assume that your reader knows just as much as your character does. For example, I have a pretty good guess about where Liesabet and the other Jews are headed and what lies before them... but do they have any idea about it?

Also, you don't say that all the other people on the trucks are Jews. Did Liesabet just not notice this, or are they not all Jewish? This is more of what I'm talking about with assuming your reader knows what you are talking about--I presumed they were Jewish, but for all you described, they could be mostly blond-haired, blue-eyed Germans. The images I have in my head come more from what I already know about the time period, not from what you describe. Does that make any sense?

Well, that's about all I've got to say about this chapter. All in all, I think that as the plot heats up your writing is getting better and better, so I'm excited to read what comes next.

I hope this helps you somewhat!

a
  








You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein