United States of America

I am a Genderfluid person that is on the autism spectrum. I normally have a very Harsh and Indifferent view of the world that may be shown in some of the prompts I write. I write when I am in pain, unfeeling, or when I have a slight view of a memory.

Message from Writer

"mental state who she?"
"I'm gay, what of it?"
"I have no sanity to question."
"How all you people diddly done doing this fine evening/morning."
"What's up frickers I'm here and I'm queer."

The pink strip #His-Story-Contest

February 3, 2019


    My breath hitches in my throat as I look over at the lines and lines of bone dead dead people watching us. Stripped over my clothes tears run down my face. I look to the guards. "I'm not a jew." Screams someone int he line behind me and I look to the ground. We're not here for being Jewish. The Jews watch us as we are handed uniforms. Some of their eyes hold pity and others hold disgust. Those who know what we are. I didn't want to be this. It isn't my choice to be this. I put on the striped clothes hastily and yet I can still feel harsh wind blowing through my willowy form. The form that I know will grow thinner and soon burn. I try to rip myself out of the line and the bruises on my legs line up on after another. I watch my hair fall to the ground as it is shaved from my scalp. I can feel warm wetness where the blade has pierced my scalp in the hasty movements. A cold hand almost breaks my wrist in the tight grasp as ink is sheared into my skin in bug numbers. Marking me like an animal. The line moves farther and farther from the gate where we had entered. I was not allowed luggage for the sin I had committed. The bridge to freedom slams closed. I am given a wristband to slip over my arm with my numbers on it. The armband is identical to the people in front of me. The vibrant pink glows on it. The line leads from the camp. People are taken in groups. The smell of something burning fills the air tinged with something putrid.I see smoke blacken the sky and the path to heaven is cut. We are led to undress in front of showers. I see piles of laundry being taken out of the other end of the showers. All of the men are huddled and piled inside. I shudder at what I have seen. The silhouette I refuse to recognize. The door slams shut and locks. I look out into the crowd of dead-men. For our sin of loving the same gender. The silloette of a hand falling from the piles of not laundry, but dead bodies. THe pipes rattle as something comes through them. My last memory is of that glowing pink strip gracing every uniform as my head cracks down onto the concrete.


See History
  • February 3, 2019 - 6:19pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Hannah Gaudette - JoyfulWriter

    The final update for this contest is published:
    Thank you for your hard work!

    about 1 year ago
  • AminahMcBina

    Oh. My. God. This was soooo powerful! Wowowowow! Also, @The Bubbling Pen makes a very good point! I think its a very important fact to keep in mind not only Jews were taken into concentration camps during the Holocaust. I really enjoyed reading this. Well done!



    about 1 year ago
  • Hannah Gaudette - JoyfulWriter

    Powerfully written. Thank you for participating!

    about 1 year ago
  • The Bubbling Pen

    What a powerful and moving piece that really brings the reader a new perspective. Too often we forget that whilst six million Jewish people died in concentration camps, there were many other groups discriminated against as well: those who loved differently, those who were deemed "gypsies", those who were political dissenters... Your piece is so stunning and takes a grip on the harsh reality faced by those at camps like Auschwitz in Germany. Fabulous work <3

    about 1 year ago