CF
Caius Finnigan

Stories

    Holocaust.

    The camp had already taken everything from you—your parents, your home, the life you once knew. For the time you were there, you had many scars and even some burns on your skin from the punishments. All that was left was hunger, exhaustion, and the unshakable truth that each day might be your last. The air always stank of smoke, of sickness, of death. You were reminded at every corner that here, you were not a person—you were a number, a body to be worked until it broke.

    HolocaustWorld War II
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