I squeeze my mother’s hand a little harder every time the old car makes a sharp turn.  The ear-piercing sirens constantly interrupt my thoughts.  I lay my head on my mother’s chest, desperately searching for comfort and warmth.  Our heartbeats race in perfect timing together, matching each other’s intensity.  We don’t know exactly where we’re going, but we’re positive we don’t want to find out.
The packed car makes a sudden stop, and I hold my breath uneasily.  Many more screaming women are unwillingly pushed into the car, causing the space to become as condensed and fearful as a police station full of criminals. 
I try not to look at the newcomers because I know that I will see pain and brokenness in their eyes.
The car wastes no time in returning to its journey, picking up speed every second.  I can feel everyone’s anticipation, the anxiety growing with every mile that passes. 
After what seems like hours of driving through the middle of nowhere, a large field surrounded by a tall fence appears on the horizon.  As the car gets closer, the field seems to increase in size and becomes more intimidating.  A gate creaks open and the car makes a sharp turn into the entrance.  Above the gate a sign reads ARBEIT MACHT FREI, meaning work sets you free in German.
“Welcome to camp,” a soldier sternly tells us before pushing us out of the car.
My eyes scan my surroundings and I become overwhelmed with what I see.  The camp looks like a mirror image of the car.  Only girls, with faces so depressed you would think that their mothers had never hugged them.  They are wearing clothes that are tattered and torn. 
Some girls are in a single-file line heading into a large building with steam coming out of it.  All of them look as if the Three Fates have snipped their lifeline string.  Their eyes are staring at the feet of the girls in front of them and their shoulders sag lower than I knew was possible. 
There are girls moving concrete blocks and sandbags from one side of the camp to another, over and over again.  They’re doing hard, pointless labor.  There are soldiers who look strict and as if they couldn’t care less about this torture.  They don’t even seem to be amused, just bored.  I avert my eyes, unable to watch this terrible treatment.
My mother and I are moved to a small, flat building that looks like it could cave in any minute.  Inside the building, there are many metal cots with straw mattresses that are so close together there’s hardly any room to move in between them.  This must be where we sleep, on those tiny, uncomfortable beds.  I notice how compact they are, and I realize that every girl I have seen is as slim as a board, therefore they don’t need much space.  More realizations begin to pop into my brain.
My mind moves as fast as lightning, millions of questions racing through my brain, piecing together every small detail I have picked up on since arriving here. 
Everything goes blank as I look into my mother’s icy blue eyes.  It’s as if a river of worry is peering into me, and it dawns on me how much our lives are in danger being here.  She grabs me and holds me close.  I feel comforted in my mother’s warm arms, but that brief moment gets ruined with a shrill scream. 
My mom and I cautiously glance outside and see a group of soldiers with a scroll grabbing innocent women and shoving them into a line by the large building with steam coming out of it.  I begin to panic and grab my mother’s hand, just as I did on our awful ride to this torture camp.  I recognize that building.  It’s the building I saw when we first arrived here earlier today.  The girls I saw go in never came out.  I don’t want to know what happened to them.
I can faintly pick out some names that a soldier barks.  “Barbara Hines...Jane Adler...Linda Ruth…”  I can feel the girls’ fear, and I feel sorry for them.  I grieve for girls that I have never even met.  I squeeze my mother’s hand, while the unimaginable is occurring.  I say a silent prayer that I don’t hear my name or my mother’s.
More names are being read off, and more women are being taken.  A soldier calls “Leah Wheeler.”  My mom and I lock eyes, and my heart sinks so low that it feels as if it’s leaving my feet and descending into the ground.  Tears stream down my face, and despair washes over me.  My mother wraps her arms around me, tighter than they’ve ever been, and I see a soldier make his way over to us. 
“Please don’t leave me,”  I cry.
“I’m so sorry,” she tells me softly.  “I love you so much, Kate,” she whispers.
The soldier reaches us and his face is as stoic as a statue.  He tries to pull my mom away from me, but my mom isn’t ready to let me go.  He begins to yank her, using more force, and his face morphs from having no expression to anger.
“Mom!” I scream.  Tears flow down my cheeks at a heavier and more consistent pace.  My eyes turn into dark storm clouds and I feel as if my world is being torn apart by an earthquake.  My heart aches and my head spins.  I don’t want to lose the only person I have left. 
“Run as fast as you can,” my mother says, as she surrenders to the soldier.  “Go, go!”  she tells me urgently.  “I love you so much, Kate,” she repeats.
I reach out for her, and my fingertips brush against hers for the last time.  I choke back the pain of losing my mother and sprint out of the small sleeping corridors, unwilling to watch her being dragged into the large building of death.  Without looking behind me, I race for the gate of the camp.  My heart beats in time with each step I take, no longer in time with my mother’s heartbeat.  My bare feet sting every time they dig into the dirty gravel on the ground.  I climb the fence as fast as I can.  I hear men with deep voices shouting, and dogs furiously barking. 
A gunshot echoes through my ears, and I feel a bullet graze past the tips of my hair, barely missing my scalp.  More shots are being fired, and I suddenly feel something strike me between the ribs.  I collapse on the muddy ground and I see my clothes are covered in a deep red color.  They quickly become soaking wet.  I can feel my lungs begging to breathe, gasping for more air.  I place my hand on my heart, and it’s slowly starting to fade.  Thump thump...thump thump......thump thump.........  I try to cling to life, but can only picture the worst.  My vision begins to fog as a black veil drapes over my eyes.  “I’m sorry, mom,” I choke, so quietly that I can barely even hear the words myself.  “I’ll see you soon.” I whisper as my final breath escapes my lips.