Highly Commended Story - When the Nazis Came
“When the Nazis Came” by Caitlin Fultz, Clear Lake Intermediate, USA, is the Highly Commended story in the junior category of the second biannual Short Story Contest 2018.
Caitlin Fultz is eleven years old student who lives in Houston, Texas. She is a sixth grader at Clear Lake Intermediate school. See plays clarinet, dance, and enjoy science. See has a sister, a fish, and a dog. She likes to go four-wheeling and dirt-biking with her father, and read and write with her mother.
When the Nazis Came
I could hear it through the door. “Put your hands up,” they ordered. Feet were marching quickly into the parlor. The door was locked, but that didn’t matter now. The Nazis had found us.
Sixty Years Later…
Here I am, ninety–two-year-old Alice Fisher, mourning my dear sister’s death, Anna Fisher. I was thirty-two when it happened, while she was twenty-eight. She had a daughter, Elizabeth, only three when she died. Not from measles, but from the Nazis. They came to our door, shot my sister and her daughter in two shots, but I was lucky, in a way. Before they saw me, one Nazi knocked over a bookshelf by accident, and it fell on me. It knocked me out so the only thing I saw was blackness.
And then, when I woke up, the Nazis were gone, but I could remember every second of the minutes before. From when we hid in the basement, to when I was knocked out by the bookshelf. When I finally lifted the bookshelf off my arm, I looked around to see how much damage they did. When I looked to my left, I saw the worst sight. Anna, dead on the floor, holding Elizabeth who was also dead. I was on my own now.
After my sister died, I was never happy. I never smiled and barely talked. I bought a little house with the money I had left. I couldn’t stand living where my family died. I only went outside to get food. I grew a small garden, so whenever I did go outside I would be on my property. If you would even call it that. I could barely afford my bills. I didn’t even have enough room on my land to bury my sister. I did bury Elizabeth though. Three year olds are small, and she was the smallest one I ever saw. I know families should be buried together, but it’s better to bury one instead of neither.
But that was a long time ago. I was only in my thirties, and now I’m in my nineties. I bought more property, enough to bury Anna. I put her where she belonged, next to her daughter. I’m out here today to visit their graves, and put some flowers on them. I will never forget that one day when the Nazis came. I thought we were going to live. But I see now that I was wrong.
The sirens rang as the ambulance got to our neighbor’s house. We knew she would be gone soon, not that we wanted her to be. Alice had a long life, but it sure was hard. She died at ninety-four, still thinking about the Nazis and her family. She had gotten better though. Every now and then she would play with Jennifer and Natalie, my two kids. I was married to Thomas. We have good lives, since we were both born after the Nazis, and none of our close family members have died yet. I’m just glad that Jennifer and Natalie are happy. They get along well compared to most siblings. But with Jennifer being only five, and Natalie being three, things might change. But I try my best to not worry. I’d rather them fight a little and live, than be like poor Alice and Anna.
So, whenever Jennifer and Natalie start feeling sad because they didn’t get what they wanted for Christmas, or they couldn’t play a certain game, I’ll tell them about Alice and Anna. About how Alice had to survive by herself with no toys or games to play with. Or even a sister to talk to.