Light as a Feather
It had all seemed like any other day. The memorized sound of the soldier’s gun going off at the crack of dawn was a warning amongst many. A warning to seek refuge. Despite how early it was, she got up from her crooked bed knowing it was time to hide. Quickly, they tried to clear the room, but this time it seemed like they weren’t quick enough. At this moment, time seemed to be working against them. As they all scrambled to hide proof of their presence, closer and closer the sounds got. “Boom, boom, boom,” in a synchronized fashion, the heavy footsteps of the soldiers’ boots marched quickly down the stairs.
The small group of people once asleep now scrambled to “hole up” before the soldiers found them. There was no escape. “Why bother?”, one may ask. Without thought, Amira stood in the middle of the room. Her actions insinuated that she wanted to be seen by those soldiers. Like she wanted to be taken away. But who was she to decide what she wanted with her life right? Who was she to decide that she was tired of the hiding, filled with constant fear, with the looming certainty of fatality hanging above their heads.“Amira!”, her mom said in a loud whisper. That was it. One wrong move and all came crashing. The soldiers were alerted of their presence. Their facade was over.
Quickly everyone came out of hiding, knowing that they might not live to see the day after. As the door was broken down. They knew that they were off to the concentration camps, those horrible prisons. A hell on earth “It’s better to comply”, they all must have thought. Like a quick flash, guns were drawn against these defenseless humans. One by one, shots were fired, and one by one, they dropped like flies. “Boom! Boom! Boom!… Bang”, the continuous blast of the guns going off accompanied with the lifeless bodies of the refuges echoed to the top of the stairs, followed by a silence as the guns reloaded. Quickly after the intermission, the death began again. Finally, lying lifelessly on the floor, was her family.
Not being able to move due to shock, Amira was dragged away. Why her? Why kill THEM and not her? SHE was the one who wanted out, to escape from what considered living. Couldn’t those soldiers see that she was the one most eager to go? Couldn’t THEY sense that. Tears quietly streamed down her face, as she dared not to make a peep. Her heart pounded. Filled with anger and fear, she found herself in a daze. She saw the lifeless bodies of her protectors, her best friend’s family all over their living room, as she was dragged out. Innocent people, their only crime being that they chose morals. Blood stains spread across the flooring and carpet. As she was dragged back, she gazed once more at her refuge, a place that seemed like her protection, had been stripped of its familiarity.
As Amira was dragged by the soldiers, the ground began to shake. Soon, she heard her name being called slowly but persistently. “Amira, Amira, Amira.” On and on it went, sounding like a chant. Soon she recollected her senses. Opening her eyes, she was met with the all to familiar pinched face of her therapist. A session at therapy had seemed to have taken a wrong turn… once again. “Amira, despite your age, you seem to have a very vivid memory. For today’s session, I felt like it was best to embrace your past. But, it seems like it would be best to skip over that,” said her therapist with a forced smile and a visibly emotionless face. She turned her head as she avoided the cold features of the woman in front of her.
With a glare on her face, Amira reached out her shaky wrinkled hand to grab her walking stick. “The elderly don’t need therapy anyway. What’s there to fix when death is near?”, she said under her breath, but still loud enough for her therapist to hear.
She made sure to slam the door on her way out to remind her therapist, Julie, that this old lady hasn’t lost it just yet. She may be losing her memories, but not her grit.
After so many years it finally seemed like her dream of escape was coming true. Amira had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But despite how shocking this sounded when she was told, she looked at her neurologist with a smile on her face.
All through her life, Amira had lived with the guilt of that day. The day she lost her family and friends. The memories of being stuck at that wretched concentration camp, all alone with no one to be with. Day, after day, the only option she had was to blame herself. Amira blamed herself for being born, blamed herself for killing her family, blamed herself for letting them get caught. Why? Because if she didn’t, her dark past seemed pointless. But now? All that didn’t seem to matter. It didn’t matter if she blamed herself or not, because she wouldn’t be able to remember all that built-up guilt anyways.
As Amira walked through the hallway of her therapist’s office, she seemed to forget why she was there. Turning back to face the door, she forced herself to think, to remember, all to no avail. Standing in the middle of the narrow hallway, it suddenly hit her, she was here for her therapy session. Amira couldn’t remember if she had completed her session, and was leaving, or if she had just stepped into the building. Suddenly a pair of warm big hands seemed to wrap around her shoulders. Looking up, Amira glared at the old man who seemed to smile down at her with his eyes. “Why does this man act like he knows me?” Amira muttered as she eyed the man.
A weird expression seemed to play out across the man’s face. It seemed to be a smile. “Who does he think he’s laughing at?” thought Amira as her expression tightened. She raised her walking stick and whacked the old man beside her. She kissed her teeth, as she walked away.”That should teach him how to respect a fine young lady like me,” Amira thought, as she walked away. It would be an understatement to describe Amira as nothing short of a character.
“Amira,” someone yelled. Turning back, it was that old man! Suddenly, she seemed to recognize his face. It was her husband. “Are you losing your memories that quick?” he asked as he waddled towards her. “What. It’s not like I can help it”, Amira snapped back. With a smile on his face, he led her into the car. Well, one thing you still haven’t lost is your fierceness it seems.
As they drove back home, Amira lay deep in thought, aware of the fact that from here on out, she had to treasure every moment she had with her family, even though she would not remember the memories made with them.
A few months later…
Time had gone by. It had been a year since Amira’s diagnosis. But, despite suffering from this illness. Amira had grown to be at her happiest. She was surrounded by her family even though she barely remembered them.
Amira lay in her rocking chair, as she made an attempt to knit. This was a skill she once enjoyed, but now she could barely move her hands in a synchronized fashion. No matter how hard she tried to recollect things, she just couldn’t remember. On some days, this proved a joy. But sometimes, it got frustrating to not remember the memories filled with happiness. Prior to her diagnosis, Amira had once thought of Alzheimer’s as a disease where you find it hard to recollect things. But, her current situation proved otherwise.
As time went on, life became more difficult. The simple joys of life became more difficult to do. The older Amira got, the more she forgot. Soon, Amira had forgotten how to walk. It seemed as if the hands of the clock had been reversed. Time was working against her once again.
An illness that had seemed like a blessing now seemed like a curse. The memories of her childhood she was once eager to forget, now seemed to be the only thing she wanted to hold onto. It gave her life a meaning, a reason to live, to keep persevering. But, she hated seeing the pity in her family’s eyes.
The memories Amira had carried like a heavyweight were beginning to lessen. The burden she had carried her whole life began to disappear. But, the more she lost, the more she struggled to keep. On and one it went. An endless fight in which she knew the results.
When she was younger, Amira had once fancied the beach. It was a beautiful place. A place in which you could lose yourself. A place in which you could imagine the waves carrying the memories she had once struggled to let go of.
Now, a place she once loved grew to be a place Amira hated. She felt as if the waves she had once adored had stolen all her memories. These were memories she had once begged to be rid of. Memories filled with darkness and horror. But now, it seemed the farther into the waves she went, the farther her memories seemed to go.
Yet, she decided to go visit her place of comfort one more time. Amira could feel the warmth from the sand on the hot Saturday afternoon.
Like a feather floating aimlessly through the sky, she guided her feet with her hands across the sand on the beach knowingly aware that each movement she took in life was one towards a life of emptiness. At first, it had seemed like an emptiness that she embraced with open arms. But now, this was an emptiness she wanted to get rid of.
Coming to a decision, Amira reasoned that it was better to feel the emptiness than to live the rest of her life burdened by the memories of her past.
A month later…
Amira lay on her death bed, now with a smile on her face, a rare occurrence. As she stared up ahead, she hardly recognized the faces staring back at her. But despite all this, she had a realization. She was finally light as a feather.
~Homage to the Holocaust.
By Chimezirim Evelyn Opara.
Photo Credit
LILY EBERT © Ishbel Myerscough. Photograph: Royal Collection Trust / © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2022; photographer: Matthew Hollow