They cram all of us in a cattle car. Their hands are rough with me and show no mercy. Bodies press against my own as the doors slam shut. All around is the stench of the sick, dying, dead. Occasionally someone cries out in the dark for a loved one. Low moans, stifled sobs and prayers to our God are heard. We don't know where they're taking us. We know it's another camp where we will work until we die or are set free. I can't remember how long I've been here. My back aches as I crouch to avoid the dead bodies around me. The fleas and lice bite away at my skin. I worry they will eat me until I'm only bones. Mama said to keep my faith in God. I wonder vaguely where she is or if she's even alive. I start to close my eyes but snap them open again. I'm afraid if I allow myself to sleep, I'll never wake. Papa said to live in hope that this will all be over soon. I'm not sure which is better; liberation or death- anything to get me away...