Recollecting the day I was separated from my family is probably one of the hardest things I’ll ever be asked to do, but if I didn’t tell the world then nobody would know how much hurt and sorrow it caused me.

September 31^st 1935 we were being held in a cattle truck train on course for a concentration camp in Poland , we had been in there for 2 days without food nor water. When we began to stop, we prayed and thanked god as we thought nothing could be as worse as the past 2 days… how wrong we were. As the train finally stopped the chaos began , people were being dragged of the trucks in rapid succession. Thankfully we were pressed up against the back wall of the truck, I grabbed my family and told them to stay calm and stick together. Not knowing that the last instructions I gave them were near on impossible we had been pulled out and into the darkness. A spotlight stirring the smoky air around us, the selection process had started. The sound of my wife’s fragile scream pieced my ears, shortly followed by son and daughters, I ran and tried to get through the guards which were taking them away but they were simply to powerful for my feeble body. I was pushed back into the line with all of the other men , there was nothing left I could do but contemplate over their fate.

By Ryan Harvey

This is my monologue please leave your comment and reviews.

Thank you