Efram Otto
Efram awoke to a pounding headache and a sore body. He didn't normally get headaches, but the soreness was nothing new. As he moved to swing his legs over the edge of his cot, he noticed that he could feel blades of grass between his fingers. The boy sat up suddenly and whipped his head around, taking in his surroundings. He finally noticed how quiet it was. No one screaming or whispering fervent prayers or begging for their life to be ended. No it seems the horrors of the concentration camp where far away. But how had he come to be here in this clearing? He initially thought he'd been left for dead, one of the many who were thrown in a truck and dumped god knows where when they became too sick to work. He had seen his own father be tossed in one of those trucks, his chest still rising weakly. The look his father gave him as they dragged him from his cot and his sons desperate grip was a look the boy knew would haunt him for life.
But why should they have left him for dead? He was a good worker, never back talked or complained. All he ha done was take an extra piece of bread, the pain in his empty stomach no longer bearable. He remembered how the guards had flown onto him when the cook caught him stealing, their heavy fists and boots raining blows on his already battered body. Perhaps that was why they had tossed him out here. Beat him useless, rather then senseless. But as Efram looked around him, all he could see was grass and trees. Nature untouched by the devastation of war. And no bodies. He was alone.
Efram stood to his feet, fighting off the urge to cry. It had been a long time since he allowed himself that privilege, never wanting to appear weak in front of his captors. "For a boy of twelve you are very serious." One of the guards had said. Efram didn't feel like a boy of twelve. In all the tv shows he watched and books he read, none of the kids his age had to watch his neighbors and family be shot for what they believed. Just thinking about it caused his eyes to grow wet and he wiped furiously at them till the wetness went away. He blew out a heavy breath then began to walk. The boy has no idea of where he was going, but walking was better then sitting and waiting. For some reason, the forest felt just a bit threatening...