I believe that the Holocaust existed. I am Jewish. My grandfather is a survivor of the holocaust. He is 85 years old. Since my grandfather and I live very close to each other we see each other often. We recently watched a documentary on the holocaust on television together. He began telling me stories about when he was in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. When my grandfather told me about his experiences living in Europe through the Holocaust, I didn’t believe him at first but then he showed me his tattoo of his prisoner number, a number which all prisoners in the concentration camps received. His stories touched me to the point where I started to cry about the horrific conditions during the War. I heard stories about the concentration camps all across Europe where millions of people died from working to death or in the gas chambers, and I pictured myself in the concentration camps.
I pictured a camp with a foul stench of rotting dead bodies on the ground. I was working at one of the labor fields, with conditions favorable for me to die on the spot. With no fresh water available for me to drink I fainted from dehydration. I awoke by the sound of my fellow prisoner screaming. The first sight I would see would be the death of the prisoner by the whip of the guard. My turn was next. With sweat dripping from my face to my arm where the tattoo of my prisoner number was, I prayed I wouldn’t die. I withstood the beatings of the guard just barely enough that I wouldn’t die. I was sent to my cell where on the way there I had a feeling that I would be sent to the gas chambers tomorrow. I woke up the next day with guards hauling me to the gas chambers. The doors slammed shut. The shower heads began to fill the room with a thick, green gas. I tried to hold my breath but I knew that my death would be inevitable. I started coughing from the gas. I fell to the floor from suffocation. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see my death. As I felt my heart beating stop I returned to reality still realizing that my grandfather is still telling his stories.
The day dream of me being in the concentration camp during the Holocaust changed my life forever. My grandfather told me to always keep this story in mind and when you have your own children tell them stories about the Holocaust so that they will know our heritage. I promised him that I will fulfill his wish.
About 3 years later I visited an abandoned concentration camp where I saw rows of graves after graves after graves. I could imagine that this camp was one out of many camps all across Europe where millions of people were killed. The Holocaust, really existed. This is what I believe.
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