Chapter 6
(previously) A moment later three people emerged, trudging slowly to the top. Two elderly women clutching their handbags and a little boy who only appeared to be seven or eight years old. He was trembling and crying out for his mother, begging for her with all of his little heart.
(cont.)In his hands he held a small toy soldier and he clutched it to his chest. Liesabet's heart leapt to her throat and her hand rose to her mouth.
She watched in silence as three shots rang out and the three crumpled to the ground. She could hear screams and cries rise from behind the hill and she watched as the tiny toy soldier fell from the little boy's hand and rolled down her side of the hill in her direction. Unable to hold back any longer she turned and vomited violently against the fence, not noticing the others who had joined her and now stood solemnly as witnesses watching the horror unfold before their own eyes as well.
When the heaving subsided enough she looked reluctantly looked back up at the hill, praying and pleading with God aloud that she would not have to see her own mother meet that fate.
A crack of thunder tore apart the skies and moments later fat, half-frozen raindrops began to fall from above. The temperatures plummeted but Liesabet refused to leave where she was. She had to be sure.
Teeth chattering frenziedly, she sat there as slowly as all the others retreated to the somewhat warmer shelter that the barracks provided. Row after row of people were lined up and killed until she felt numb and her mind was close to shutting down completely. Towards the end more and more people began to line up and Liesabet had a horrid thought of all the guards behind the hill becoming bored and cold, just wanting to finish this unpleasant task.
Finally when she thought that there could not possibly be any more people for them to kill, a familiar figure slowly emerged into view. Trudging slowly through the mud, hunched over with the cold and as if she were bearing the weight of a thousand bricks on her shoulders, Liesabet's mother climbed the hill and took her place atop the crest. Her lovely raven hair streamed long and free from her braid and whipped about in the blustery wind.
Liesabet recognized her instantly and a hoarse scream lodged itself in her throat.
"Nooo Mutter, Mutter, No!"
But her dying voice was captured by the fickle winds and storm and was lost, never reaching it's intended destination. She became hysterical and grasped at the barbed wire not caring as it drove it's wicked barbs into her palms and shook the fence violently, screaming and sobbing until she was too weak and spent to continue. Her mother could niether see nor hear her.
The final shot finally rang out. Her mother did not make a sound as the bullet tore through her back and out the front of her chest. She sank to her knees slowly and then as her life's blood poured out into the mud, haltingly keeled over onto her side. Her eyes remained open and a moment later became unseeing and vacant.
After witnessing that Liesabet slowly began to give up, emotionally and physically. She unclenched her iron grip on the fence and sank back to the ground which was now reduced to a sea of freezing muck. Though her voice was long gone she managed to utter a muffled and gutteral half-sob, half-groan of despair. The feeling of loneliness became excrutiatingly overwhelming and seemed to cover her like a thick dark shroud of fog. She was truly alone now.
The rain began to intensify into pounding, incessant sheets driving themselves into the Earth and crashing down upon her shoulders, drenching every scrap and fiber of her being. She curled into the fetal position and just lay there, staring at the place where her mother had fallen not caring as the cold slowly worked through her body making her stiff and numb.
Drifting in and out of conciousness, thoughts of Rory entered her mind, swirling with thoughts of her now former life. She dreamed of his face and his smile, how she longed to see his smile once again. Had he discovered that they were gone? Had he gone to her home and seen her father's lifeless form sprawled inside the doorway? Was he searching for her?
Voices broke into her hazy state and she blinked to find a trio of guards stalking through the mud puddles of the compound in her direction. When they reached her the tallest of the three ordered her to stand.
"Aufstehen!", his voice shouted through the pounding rain.
When she did not move he threw a leg back, threatening to kick her. She moaned and raised a hand, trying to tell him that she could not stand but he would not listen.
"Aufstehen!", he commanded once more.
But she could not, her legs were frozen beneath her and she could not feel them. A strangled sob burst from her lips as he let his leg go and sank the toe of his boot deep into her side, catching her just beneath the ribcage. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as waves of white-hot pain seared her body, paralyzing her with their intensity.
"Bitte Ich kippe!, Please I can't!", she pleaded hoarsely.
But he merely nodded to the shorter blonde man beside him who stepped in and kicked her as well, this time in the side of the head. Blood streamed down her face from the deep cut but still she could not stand. Sighing deeply and rolling his eyes he nodded once again to the other two men who grasped her firmly by the arms and yanked her roughly to a standing position.
The taller one stepped closer and grabbed her aching face in his gloved hand, jerking it up to his own. He smelled of leather and sweat. "Bitch, wenn ich Ihnen sage stehen Sie stehen!, When I tell you to stand you stand!", he hissed before shoving her away and flicking a wrist at the other two.
A series of tortured moans escaped her as they jostled her bruised side mercilessly whilst they dragged her away from the fence through the mud. She cast one last sorrowful glance at the silent hill beyond and saw her tall tormentor light a cigarette before her vision slowly began to fade into blackness.
She awoke some time later on a bunk with several other older woman who didn't appear to be pleased at the prospect of sharing their bed with another and stared at her indifferently before returning to their hushed small talk amongst themselves.
Liesabet made an attempt to sit up straight, feeling her head spin and her body scream in pain as she did so. Every fiber of her being seemed to be stiff and on edge. Her head throbbed with an intense ferocity where she had been struck and she raised a hand to the wound tentatively. When she brought it away she found fresh blood upon her palm. It was still bleeding.
Sighing she gazed around the small barrack in which she had been placed and marveled at how many were packed into such a cramped area. The smell was like nothing she had ever experienced. Human excrement and the smell of death permeated the air around her and stung her nostrils.
Bunks thrown together with leftover wood and rusty nails were stacked four high and three deep along the walls while along the center ran a long brick ledge. Straw was strewn everywhere in a pathetic attempt to provide bedding. The room was lit by two small electric lights and whatever light that the lone window near the ceiling on the left wall provided. It was a mere fifteen by twenty inches and was fogged over almost completely.
Fellow inmates like herself were everywhere, filling the bunks, sprawled along and atop the ledge, and some even standing for lack of a place to lay their heads. Liesabet found that she and the rest of the new arrivals stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest. They were so healthy and robust compared to the malnourished skeleton-like beings that were about her. Their skin was a ghastly shade of yellow and seemed to stretch painfully tight across their bony bodies as they lay on their bunks.
Many stared unseeing off into some distant place in their minds, their faces completely devoid of any emotion while others visibly bore their pain and suffering clearly on their haggard and frail countenances. She found several looking at her with clear envy on their faces as they scrutinized her healthy skin, hair, and body weight and began to feel increasingly uncomfortable.
She closed her eyes and laid back once more, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that racked her body. Several minutes later she heard the large wooden door creak open slightly letting in a draft of brisk, wet air and the soft tones of a young woman's voice as it mixed with the grumblings of several of the women complaining of the cold. The door was closed once again and the voice began to draw nearer and nearer closing in on the place where Liesabet lay.
"Excuse me please, so sorry, excuse me", the voice called out as it wove between the many women strewn about on the floor.
Liesabet opened her eyes and risked a glance at what was coming. A slight bit of a young woman near to her own age dressed in similar dreary rags approached her bearing a small chipped cup. When she had reached her side she handed the cup to Liesabet with a cheery smile that bespoke her optimism despite their circumstances.
"Here, have some water, it may help."
Liesabet reached for the cup and took a moment to study the girl's features before bringing it to her lips. She was unnaturally thin and the bones in her face jutted out in awkward angles as a result. Her greyish eyes, though slightly sunken in, had a welcoming sparkle to them that warmed the corners of Liesabet's heart. She smiled as Liesabet tipped the cup to her mouth, her cracked lips parting to reveal yellow and broken teeth.
The water was cool and refreshing as it slid past Liesabet's swollen tongue and down her parched throat and she drained the cup.
"I saw what happened, I'm sorry. My name is Corrie", the girl said quietly and slid the cup from Liesabet's grasp.
"Vielen Dank Corrie. My name is Liesabet", she replied with the slightest semblance of a smile as she watched the girl pull a scrap of cloth from her dress pocket and turn to her, gesturing to her head.
"May I?"
Liesabet nodded and the girl brought the cloth to her lips to moisten it before beginning to dab it alongside the now-clotting wound. She could hear Corrie clucking with her tongue as she saw the deepness of the cut and for a moment she thought of her mother doing the same when she was a child.
So, all I have are few nitpicks. 
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