Inhumane

Maybe it's the murdering of thousands of innocent people. Or maybe it's the shrill screams of children crying for their mother. Or the man hiding in the piano, and then he climbs out and starts playing, only to get shot. Or the little child hiding under the bed fearing for her life. Or the doctor who tried to save a woman, but she was shot in his arms, her blood splashing all over his white lab coat. Or the man who escaped in the sewer only to find that his wife did not. Or the doctors and nurses rushing to give patients medicine that will make them die, so that they will not be beaten or murdered, yet they are shot anyway. Or the child who has to watch his father get shot, only to get shot soon after. Can you imagine? The last image in your head is your father being murdered. Or the mother who made her children swallow precious jewelry. Or the woman who would not let a child's mother into the hiding place, the screams of the child ringing stridently through the air. Or the engineer graduate woman who is shot because she tried to tell the general that the barracks where not structurally sound. It's the combination of all these things that just makes me sick. In World Cultures, we are learning about the Holocaust. Currently we are watching Schindler's List. Today in class the movie covered the Liquidation of the Ghettos. I was not remotely prepared for what I was about to see. All of these things aforementioned and many more. I was even more shocked when a date appeared on the screen. The date of the Liquidation of the Ghettos was March 13, 1943. I will never ever think of my birthday the same way. How could I? I cried all the way through class. I couldn't handle it. I had to force myself to watch it, but only because I knew we would probably have a quiz over it. Something that really upset me was when one of my class mates, the drama causing guy in my class that I have complained about before, laughed when the little boy was shot after watching his father get shot. He laughed. How could he be so heartless? Honestly.

I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with anyone that entire period. I'm sure I looked like crap, and I felt like I was going to blow chunks. I don't know why I can't handle these videos. It was the same way last year in American History, I just can't stomach things like this. Mr. Fruit was very considerate of this last year. Every time a gory, nasty part would come up, he would look at me and nod. So I would put my hands over my eyes, and on some audible parts, he would mute the video. Mr, Krecklow isn't considerate at all, he lets the movie run through all of the most gory parts.

I think the saddest part of the movie for me so far is when the little girl hides under the bed and covers her ears. She is all alone, and she is too young to comprehend what is going on. Another part that really made me upset is when the Nazis were separating men and women. A little boy was ripped out of the arms of his mother. He screamed and screamed, "Mama! Mama!" This woman struggled and struggled, but she could not get to her child. I cannot imagine going through this. It was just so horrible and inhumane.