Raus! Outside! Our only salvation was to quickly leave
the apartment, closing the door behind us and taking refuge
in the attic, hiding under the furniture… under pieces of canvas. Already, we could hear footsteps, the noise of those heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, pushing in the doors, always screaming: raus!
And they came up to the fourth floor, they pushed in the door
of our apartment, and… then they came up to the attic and they were striking at every thing, the pieces of canvas rose slightly,
and I felt the canvas rising. They came very near to us. And then, they didn't find us. They left.
I was nine. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't move. I made myself even smaller. I held back my breath. I understood only too clearly the situation we were in. I was a child of the Ghetto.
