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Panic
Adam: A 6 year old Jewish boy, who’s been taken into a cell in a concentration camp
Guard: A Nazi guard working in the concentration camp
Adam: Hello.
The guard slowly turns his head to look at me. I shoot him a smile. He gives me a death stare.
Adam: Hello Sir.
This time, he doesn’t even turn.
Adam: Hello!
Still nothing.
Adam: Excuse me! I think you’re being rather rude. My mother taught me to greet someone politely, with a wide smile on my face. Hasn’t your mother taught you the same?
Guard: Perhaps not. But at least my mother taught me to stay silent. Clearly, yours hasn’t. *mutters under his breath* annoying Jew.
Adam: Oh, I understand. It’s just...I feel a bit lonely in here and I’m not sure where my parents are or even where I am. I just wanted to make a friend, sorry.
Adam: Hey! Can you help me find my parents?
Guard: No.
Adam: Oh. Do you not know where they are?
Guard: No.
Adam: Oh. Well, could you at least tell me where we are?
Guard: No.
Adam: So...you don’t know where we are either?
Guard: No, now stop bothering me.
Adam: Wait… so if you don’t know where we are either… Does that mean that you’re lost too?
Guard: I said, stop bothering me Jew!
Adam: Jew? No, my name is Adam. Although, I suppose I am a Jew by religion. But... how did you know that? Also, if you’re lost too, how come you’re out there but I’m stuck in here? That doesn’t seem fair.
Guard: Alright kid, you want to know where you are? I’ll tell you. We’re in a concentration camp created especially for Jews like yourself. In five hours, I’m going to send you into a little something we like to call a gas chamber. There, you’ll be forced to take off your clothes and will shower as a poisonous gas starts to fill up the room. Bet your mother didn’t tell you about these, am I right? Oh, but don’t worry kid, you’ll be reunited with your family soon - either in the chamber or at least once you reach hell. But it’ll happen. Does that answer all of your questions?
I start to panic… but it is not a normal panic attack though, it is something much bigger. I think to myself, “forget the gas chambers, this is going to be my end.” I start to fall short of breath and within a few seconds I stop breathing and collide with the floor. But, before I do, I see the look on the guard’s face: I’m certain it’s the same as the one I had right before I started to panic.
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A dialogue between a Nazi prison guard and a young boy