"Just burn the bodies," I say as I jab my thumb in the direction of a pothole, "that looks like a perfect place to put them." My servants, Ulrik and Leopold, lift the small kart overflowed with bodies and carry them over to the muddy pit. I took a deep breath, looked around at the scenery. Small children resting against walls, nibbling on the little food they had in their hands. Older men and women struggling to hold on to life. Children were drinking water out of little puddles that were formed in the crevices of the roads. A small woman was laying under a blanket, clutching her baby tightly to her chest, even though the baby has already passed. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, sorrow concealing the soul she holds hostage inside of her body. I looked at the now deceased child, the little hair it has slowly moving in-sync with the breeze. It's body looked cold, fragile, pale. It was very skinny, and I knew why. But I did not care. No, I would never do such a thing as to care for a Jewish child. It meant nothing to me, and it was to stay that way.
I began to walk through the streets of the hood. I had one last apartment to check, and then I could rest for the remainder of the day.
Once I arrived, I twisted the knob and walked in, only one of my servants with me this time. A dark-haired woman sat in the corner of the room on the floor, staring at nothing. A child was curled up to her side, asleep, breathing raggedly. I was struck by the beautiful structure of the woman's face. A heart-shaped face, high cheek bones, dark eyelashes, long, brunette hair, full lips. Best of all, her blue eyes. Almost as light as mine, but they were red-rimmed.
What was I thinking? Ungh. No Jew was beautiful. They're disgusting creatures.
But how could a woman as beautiful as her be labeled 'Jewish'?
I shook my head and cleared my throat. "Sapphira Reznik?"
She slowly looks over at me, gliding her eyes over the child before our gazes lock. She nods slightly. Her hands were cupped together in her lap, and her hair fell over her shoulders as she moved her head. I looked her over then gestured for her to stand.
"Come here." She does as she is told and takes slow steps to approach me. I gesture for my servant to pat her down, make sure she isn't hiding anything. She keeps her gaze locked on mine as the servant checks her. He looks at me and nods, notifying me that she is clear. "Check around the home," I tell my servant.
The child on the floor does not stir, nor does it awaken. It just lies there, breathing deeply as it is encased with slumber. The woman goes to sit back down next to the child. Every move she makes is graceful.
What was this woman doing to me? It was almost as if she has cast a spell on me. She was a nothing. I knew that. But something in the back of my mind screamed at me. Human, she's human! She's no different than any of us!
I stood there, speechless as I watched Sapphira gently lift the frail child into her lap. It looked as though it was dying, like many of the other children have. I swallowed, curling my hands into fists at my sides. I would not feel for that child, nor would I feel for that woman. I had to leave.
"Leopold, they're clear, no need to search anymore. Let's go." Leopold looks up from the ground at me, hand halfway under the wooden bed. He stands and follows me as I walk out the door.
I stop right outside the door, looking back, to see Sapphira watching as I leave.