I Only Wanted Utopia

This is a work anyone may use to publish their own fictional memoirs. I wrote this one for Creative Writing and thought it would be fun to collaborate with others.

This memoir is for you. I don’t mean for this to be a keepsake or something to store in your box upstairs to curb future nostalgia. I don’t even mean for this to be something that you keep at all. In fact, as soon as you read this, I encourage you to get rid of it. I want you to get rid of this so that you can forget me. I just want you to read this so I can explain something to you and then once you understand, please dispose of this in the way you deem most fit.

            Now, where to start?

            I won’t bore you with the beginning details, since you were there at the beginning of my life and have been since. You raised me, cared for me, and watched me grow to become the young man that you loved. But I suppose I should have known that when we got a new leader, one as charismatic and influential as he, we would see some changes. And we would see changes in me.

            It started fairly small. Different course requirements at school and eventually new teachers. Eventually courses were so drastically different than when I was in my 9th year that I knew something had to be up. We were no longer receiving education for the university. We were receiving education on eugenics, politics, and joining the police force.

            As you know, I was forced to enter this abyss of ignorance and become a Gestapo due to my perfect Aryan pedigree. I know that it made you sad to see me leave; it made me sad too. But at that point, I thought that I was fighting and working for the good of the German race.

The power of deception is an amazing thing. Superiors will use big fluffy words and describe the Utopia they will build and you can’t help but agree, because who doesn’t want a Utopia? Who doesn’t want a perfect Aryan race?

            But then things get weird. They tell you to build more gas chambers and take everyone’s clothes. They tell you to tell the children they are playing a game, and that they should simply follow you. They tell you to dump the bodies in the crematory and they tell you to enjoy the stench, because that’s what it smells like when you’re building a perfect world. When you stare at them in disgust, they tell you to follow orders or you’ll be dead too.

            I just didn’t want to die. I was barely 16 then, and it was the first time I’ve been away from home for more than a few days. You and I sent telegrams until all of mine were confiscated.  They threatened your lives, because I wasn’t following orders as precisely as I could have. At that point, I was deeply concerned about you and Annie.

            I started following orders and in no time, I was a natural. It’s amazing how much you believe what a person of authority tells you, and my presiding officer was like God to me. Always perfectly pristine and polished, he’d recite Bible phrases on the job that really hit home. I’d remember them from church, and then I’d reminisce about the smell of the pews and how Frau Stein wore the same beaten dress every Sunday. But I wouldn’t remember the phrases quite the way he said them. I never interpreted the verses he used in that fashion and neither had church. But he rapidly convinced me otherwise. We were carrying out God’s will; what’s more, it was our divine right to do what we were told to do. He even convinced me once that Dad was looking down on me ashamed whenever I didn’t follow directions.

            I hate to continue with this, but you have to know what I did so maybe you will understand.

            Eventually, I was like everyone else, leading people away and beating or shooting them if they did otherwise.  I don’t have an estimate of how many men, women, and children I shot because I shot so many. One instance in particular I do remember, however.

            While leading groups of children away from their mothers, one child had decided that it would be appropriate to break away from the line and run after his. A small, speedy little kid, he rushed under our arms and into his mother’s before we could even blink. My presiding officer was watching at this point to make sure that I could take care of things on my own, so I had to show him that I knew what to do. As the mother began sobbing and wiping her child’s tears, I raced up to them before they could move any further. I tore the child from the mother’s grip, which was, admittedly, extremely difficult because I was fighting with maternal love. Though I don’t truly understand, I know that maternal love is almost like an invincible force. I suppose that you have that love for Annie. I suppose you once had that love for me. My size and muscle did turn out to be advantageous compared to the mother’s deteriorating strength and she laid on the ground pleading with me to spare her son’s life. I refused, yelling and swearing at her in German (if we used English at all we were dead men), which only made her cry more. I pointed my gun at the child’s forehead. This would be the first time that I would shoot a child. He can’t have been more than a few feet away from me and I knew the bullet would blow his face to bits. I didn’t care. I forced his mother to watch as I made the light leave his eyes and blood spray onto some of his fellow children.

            I wish I could tell you that I felt something after that. I wish I could tell you that I was completely filled with remorse, and I wanted to take it back and shoot my presiding officer instead. But I didn’t. I felt nothing. In fact, I was proud for carrying out God’s will. And to this day, as much as I can recognize it was wrong, it never felt wrong and nor does it now.

            I have nothing inside of me. There is no hope, no light, and no humanity. Somewhere along the line, I lost it all. I don’t know exactly when or where, so it’s lost forever. There’s no way of recovering your little boy. He is gone. Once you understand that, you will be glad that I’ve done what I’m about to do.

            I don’t belong in this world anymore. This world is for humans, not monsters. As I am no longer a human, it is not fit for me to remain on earth. It does not make sense for me to consider myself a human and do all that they do, when I have evil inside of me.

            God will not take me to the heavens, for I know that what I was told of God was not true. I did not carry out his will. I carried out the will of a regime that wanted control, wanted Utopia. Every bit of it was a lie, but that doesn’t change what I did and it doesn’t make me human. I don’t even feel like a part of this world anymore. And for that, I know God will put me in the right place.

Your son,


The End

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