Nazism and the Rise of Hitler — Question 4

I woke up to the sound of distant boots echoing in the streets. My heart raced as I remember the new decree: the Star of David. We are marked now, like cattle branded for slaughter. I dressed quickly, my trembling hands fumbling with the fabric of my shirt. The yellow star sewn onto my chest felt like a lead weight, a constant reminder of my otherness. Outside, the air smelt of fear and desperation. The non-Jewish neighbours glanced away as I passed, their silence was louder than any insult. I somehow gathered the courage and reached the school. I knew, I was not welcome. Once familiar faces, look no more familiar now. I was told bluntly not to enter the campus. Broken and shattered, I came back home. Tomorrow, we’ll wake up and face it all over again.