Name: Daisy Savage
Age: 14
School: Mount Temple Comprehensive School, Malahide Road, Dublin 3
UNFORGETTABLE
Stephanie was always an early riser, even in her youth. She always woke with the sun and loved to watch it paint the sky numerous colours as it rose up from behind the mountains that surrounded her small cottage. The morning was a warm, humid one, the colours of the sky varying from yellow to royal blue in a series of beautiful layers.
The only thing that could be heard in the small house was the loud ticking of the ancient grandfather clock that stood majestically in the corner of Stephanie’s sitting room. The tranquillity of the morning was interrupted only by the sound of her own feet shuffling as she made her way into the kitchen. She reached for her old kettle, filling it with water and placing it on the stove to boil.
She wandered around the house while she waited, observing the neat rows of pictures lining the walls of her sitting room. Her attention was drawn to the photos of her and her best friend at Auschwitz concentration camp. No matter what, Stephanie would always remember that day. Although it was a long time ago, it was almost impossible to forget.
The kettle, along with the rest of her surroundings, began to disappear as the memories from that day flooded Stephanie’s mind.
Nothing ever really prepares you for being there and <br/> seeing it in person
The mid-morning sun shone down on the infamous iron gates, the German words “Arbeit Macht Frei”, wrought from the metal. Though the morning was bright, the empty complex of buildings in Auschwitz concentration camp was no place for sunshine. She’d wanted to come here for years, but now that she had, she was hesitant to enter. She realised that it didn’t matter how many books you read or how many movies you watched, nothing ever really prepares you for being there and seeing it in person.
“Steph!” her friend, Marissa, yelled, instantly breaking her out of her thoughts. Stephanie looked at her, the blank expression on her face giving away the fact that she hadn’t listened to a word Marissa had been saying.
“Were you even listening to me?” she whined. Stephanie chuckled slightly and shook her head, making Marissa sigh in annoyance. “I know you’re interested in this stuff, but why do I have to be here?” she moaned. “Because you’re a good friend and you didn’t want me to be on my own in Poland,” Stephanie answered, flashing a smile towards her friend. Before she could respond, their tour guide showed up, ready to take the 16-year-old girls around the camp.
They started in the museum section of the camp, in the building containing the prisoners’ possessions. The main thing that caught her eye was the infamous room that held the suitcases belonging to the prisoners. The room was greatly upsetting for Stephanie because she could see the names of the prisoners written on each case.
She couldn’t understand what people could possibly have done to deserve to be in such a cruel place. “This is often the room that leaves the biggest impression on our visitors,” the tour guide began, gesturing to the suitcases around them.
“The Nazis would ask them to write their names on the suitcases, promising to return them to each passenger later. This would create a false sense of security and lead them to believe that they were just being moved from one place to another,” he finished.
Stephanie stood, shifting from one foot to the other in an uncomfortable manner. Beside her, she heard Marissa’s sharp intake of breath and turned her head towards her friend. She was staring intently at the suitcases, her mouth slightly open and eyes slightly glossy as she studied each one closely. The thought of what all these people went through troubled both girls, and Stephanie realised that, as the people wrote their names on their suitcases, they probably had no idea that they wouldn’t ever see those possessions again. Most wouldn’t even make it out of the camp alive.
Stephanie listened, in horror, as the tour guide described the almost unimaginable suffering of the prisoners who were victims of Mengele
That thought caused Stephanie to stamp her foot in annoyance, unable to describe how the room made her feel in just one word. Somehow, Stephanie already knew that, whenever she looked back on this trip, this room would be the first thing she would remember.
As they trailed through the different rooms, Stephanie watched as Marissa’s expression gradually went from bored to interested, and she was secretly proud of herself because of it.
As the girls exited the building, Marissa turned to Stephanie. “That last room was pretty intense,” she sighed. Stephanie nodded immediately, looking at her friend as they began walking to the next building. “You’re finding it interesting. Don’t bother trying to deny it,” she teased, earning an elbow to the ribs from Marissa. “Shut up!” she mumbled, a small smirk on her face. Stephanie giggled slightly and the two girls continued walking, arms linked.
The next building of the camp was Block 11, the infamous punishment block. The greatly feared doctor of the camp, Josef Mengele, would conduct cruel experiments on the prisoners here. When they were just outside the block, Stephanie was in two minds about going in. If it wasn’t for Marissa’s tight grip on her wrist and her curiosity hadn’t got the better of her, she wouldn’t have gone down, but she slowly made her way down the narrow, slippery staircase.
Block 11 was dark, damp and very cold. The corridors were long and very, very narrow. They walked, in single file, down to the end of the block, where the infamous standing cells were situated. Stephanie listened, in horror, as the tour guide described the almost unimaginable suffering of the prisoners who were victims of Mengele. Stephanie had never raced back up a set of stairs so quickly.
The gas chamber was quite possibly the thing that impacted Stephanie the most. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to go into a gas chamber. Reading about them is one thing but being inside one is a whole different story. They walked through the heavy door, and the hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood up.
The room was stone cold and had an extremely eerie feeling to it. The little light in the room illuminated fake showerheads and small scratches on the walls from the prisoners’ desperate attempts to escape, and the giant chimney that was clearly visible from outside was unforgettable.
For the first time on the tour, Stephanie struggled to take in what the tour guide was telling her, because she was busy trying to wrap her head around how one human could do that to another. Beside her, she could feel Marissa start to shiver, her grip on Stephanie’s arm tightening by the second. As soon as they got out, Marissa slowly detached herself from Stephanie, who frowned slightly.
This is a really great experience, Steph. I actually find it really interesting. That was just very intense, that's all
“You alright, Marissa?” she asked, genuinely concerned for her best friend. “I’m sorry if you weren’t comfortable with coming here. I shouldn’t have made you come with me.”
“What? No, no, no! This is a really great experience, Steph. I actually find it really interesting. That was just very intense, that’s all,” Marissa said as she flashed Stephanie a quick smile, which Stephanie gladly returned. She was happy that her friend was finding it interesting and that she wasn’t intimidated by Stephanie’s level of interest in what was, after all, quite an unpleasant subject.
A couple of hours later, the girls were boarding the bus that would take them back to Krakow. As the bus slowly pulled out of Auschwitz, they sat back in the plush seats, their phones filled with photographs and memories that they would always hold close to their hearts. Stephanie was right. It really was an unforgettable experience.
The doorbell ringing brought Stephanie out of her thoughts, and she realised that the kettle had been whistling for the past 10 minutes. She shuffled over to the door, opening it slowly to reveal Marissa standing on the other side. Stephanie had completely forgotten that she had invited her over.
“Oh! Hello, Marissa! I had forgotten you were coming!” Stephanie said enthusiastically.
“Hi Steph!” she greeted, still as energetic as ever. Even when they were both 60 years of age. “Come inside, I’ve just made a pot of tea!” Stephanie told her friend, turning around and leading Marissa into the house.
When the two women were settled, tea and cake in their hands, Marissa’s eyes fell on the many photos hanging on the living room wall. “I’m surprised you still have those photos!” she exclaimed, and Stephanie laughed. “Of course I still have them,” she told her, causing them to laugh again. “That trip was unforgettable,” Marissa said quietly. “It was, Marissa. It really was.”
