Levi chose to hide.
Written by Elizabeth
Cons outweighing the pros, he decided not to fight. He’s not strong enough. All he could do is hide, for his family, they had already suffered so much. Most of his friends were taken. The beautiful girl was gone. He couldn’t fight. A few fist fights and the scars on his hands didn’t help, he was weak. Though the deportation operation ended last September. That was almost four months ago, and people are able to breathe now again but the feeling didn’t last. There came the hopeful whispers.
“The Z.O.B. are getting stronger! We might have a chance at fighting.”
Frowning, he turns away, wishing that his hopes wouldn’t be risen as he stares at his hands. He isn’t going to fight. He’s going to protect them all and every scar has been proof of that. But he can’t hold the thought for much longer. A yell echoes from the busy streets, alerting them that the German soldiers are coming. A panic comes in waves as everyone runs to the safety of their homes, the sick and the weak more slow, and the range of emotion is a definite contrast to the dead of the ghetto but it wasn’t the right time to notice it. Running, Levi turns, left, right, right, left. His home comes into view and he closes the door, locking it after checking for everyone.
Leaning against the door, they heard it, the fear tenses the room as the echos of the Germans marching in, their footsteps in sync. It's almost mocking them, as Levi clenches his fist. His father, Ronan, cracks open a loose floor board and takes out a long cloth-covered item.
“Father, what is that? What are you-”
Levi’s question is cut off as he connects the dots. His dad is a part of the Z.O.B. Looking around, his uncles, aunts, and mother, share a hard stare. The glint of determination, rage, and vengeance in their eyes shakes him. They are a part of it too. He wants to beg them to stay back before the radio crackles alive. It was the signal.
Without a word, they take their separate weapons, and step together. They give all the children and Levi a kiss or a hug, for him, it lingers as they whisper,” Levi, Protect them all.”
Bang. The first gunshot sounds. It's the Jewish Fighting Organization. The German curses in surprise are enough for Levi’s family to leave and join in. Soon, battle cries and guns going off fills the ghetto as Levi takes the children to a closet and hums softly, hoping to calm them. Before he could lock the door, his 5 year old sister Roni, with many others, asks,” What’s going on, Le-Le?”
“Fireworks, little birdsong.”
“Oh! I wanna see! I didn’t know those grumpy soldiers were nice enough to give us that…”
Shoot. That was the wrong thing to say. Biting his lip, the screams of the German and the Jewish still echos, as he stutters,” Sorry, Roni. It’s an adult party, full of adult magic. It’s boring, filled with chess and old people stuff. How about singing with big ol’ Le-Le.”
She loses interest, smiling and cheering softly with the others as Levi sits with them, strumming the chipped guitar strings to block out most of the screams.
The battle outside wasn’t the happiest with the homes of the ghetto, but the Jewish held up fairly well. January of 1943. Three days fighting. The never-ending playing guitar and shabby board games. But the gunshots are dying. Opening the closet door, Levi brushes the food crumbs off his pants and glances through the window. There are dead bodies everywhere, but the Germans are giving up. They still had break into a lot of the buildings on the South side of the ghetto though, taking almost 5,000 Jewish into the railroad cars.
Levi was about to whoop, cheer loudly, and run outside before stopping at the soldiers marching. Dragging almost 1,000 Jewish people to the main square, Levi can only watch in horror as the skinny group of people stand bravely.
“The Z.O.B. are getting stronger! We might have a chance at fighting.”
Frowning, he turns away, wishing that his hopes wouldn’t be risen as he stares at his hands. He isn’t going to fight. He’s going to protect them all and every scar has been proof of that. But he can’t hold the thought for much longer. A yell echoes from the busy streets, alerting them that the German soldiers are coming. A panic comes in waves as everyone runs to the safety of their homes, the sick and the weak more slow, and the range of emotion is a definite contrast to the dead of the ghetto but it wasn’t the right time to notice it. Running, Levi turns, left, right, right, left. His home comes into view and he closes the door, locking it after checking for everyone.
Leaning against the door, they heard it, the fear tenses the room as the echos of the Germans marching in, their footsteps in sync. It's almost mocking them, as Levi clenches his fist. His father, Ronan, cracks open a loose floor board and takes out a long cloth-covered item.
“Father, what is that? What are you-”
Levi’s question is cut off as he connects the dots. His dad is a part of the Z.O.B. Looking around, his uncles, aunts, and mother, share a hard stare. The glint of determination, rage, and vengeance in their eyes shakes him. They are a part of it too. He wants to beg them to stay back before the radio crackles alive. It was the signal.
Without a word, they take their separate weapons, and step together. They give all the children and Levi a kiss or a hug, for him, it lingers as they whisper,” Levi, Protect them all.”
Bang. The first gunshot sounds. It's the Jewish Fighting Organization. The German curses in surprise are enough for Levi’s family to leave and join in. Soon, battle cries and guns going off fills the ghetto as Levi takes the children to a closet and hums softly, hoping to calm them. Before he could lock the door, his 5 year old sister Roni, with many others, asks,” What’s going on, Le-Le?”
“Fireworks, little birdsong.”
“Oh! I wanna see! I didn’t know those grumpy soldiers were nice enough to give us that…”
Shoot. That was the wrong thing to say. Biting his lip, the screams of the German and the Jewish still echos, as he stutters,” Sorry, Roni. It’s an adult party, full of adult magic. It’s boring, filled with chess and old people stuff. How about singing with big ol’ Le-Le.”
She loses interest, smiling and cheering softly with the others as Levi sits with them, strumming the chipped guitar strings to block out most of the screams.
The battle outside wasn’t the happiest with the homes of the ghetto, but the Jewish held up fairly well. January of 1943. Three days fighting. The never-ending playing guitar and shabby board games. But the gunshots are dying. Opening the closet door, Levi brushes the food crumbs off his pants and glances through the window. There are dead bodies everywhere, but the Germans are giving up. They still had break into a lot of the buildings on the South side of the ghetto though, taking almost 5,000 Jewish into the railroad cars.
Levi was about to whoop, cheer loudly, and run outside before stopping at the soldiers marching. Dragging almost 1,000 Jewish people to the main square, Levi can only watch in horror as the skinny group of people stand bravely.
Art by Elizabeth Tran
Not daring to blink, Levi realizes something as he freezes, legs trembling. What made his blood turn cold was seeing his entire family amongst them, standing proudly, heads up as they smile at Levi through the window. He falls.
He can’t hear the gunshots, the screaming, or the dropping of the bodies, he's stuck on the smiles, they were full of pride and happiness that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. He can't hear the cheers of the Jewish at the results either. But when he did, he let a tear slip. Laying down, he waits for his family to come back. They never did.
The Germans had cancelled further deportation operations and Levi buries the sadness deep inside, as the heat of his rage fueled him. They are going to pay. The Z.O.B. have a chance, by the results, they were going to revolt. Levi wants to fight now, for his family, for freedom, for his cowardice, but he's stuck. Caressing the picture of his mom, he bit his fingernail again. What would mom want him to do?
He can’t hear the gunshots, the screaming, or the dropping of the bodies, he's stuck on the smiles, they were full of pride and happiness that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. He can't hear the cheers of the Jewish at the results either. But when he did, he let a tear slip. Laying down, he waits for his family to come back. They never did.
The Germans had cancelled further deportation operations and Levi buries the sadness deep inside, as the heat of his rage fueled him. They are going to pay. The Z.O.B. have a chance, by the results, they were going to revolt. Levi wants to fight now, for his family, for freedom, for his cowardice, but he's stuck. Caressing the picture of his mom, he bit his fingernail again. What would mom want him to do?