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Emma Eismontaite

Emma Eismontaite


Total Article : 69

About Me:Hello! My name is Emma, and I'm fifteen. I do tennis as well as horse-riding. Also, I love Art and English, and have chosen to write stories because I love creative writing! x

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Based On the Book: 'Then'

Based On the Book: 'Then'

Based on the Book:


By Morris Gleitzman (The sequel).


My name is Felix. I am writing in a little brown journal, in the hole that I dug. I have been laying in here for over a year, but I pushed the dog kennel away. This journal was given to me by Gabriek, the husband of kind, caring Genia. I am alone once again because my best friend, Zelda, who was only six, and Genia have been shot by the Nazis. Even though Zelda and her parents were Nazis, Zelda felt like family to me. But now she has slipped from my grasp forever. My writing is a bit wobbly because I am shaking and sobbing.

     Genia’s loving dog, Leopold, has also been shot by the horrible, hateful Nazis. So much in my life has disappeared from me. At least I have a friend that I can still rely on, Amon, the Hitler Youth boy who likes my favourite author as well; Richmal Crompton.      

     While I’m writing, Gabriek is stroking my shoulder and comforting me. He hates the Nazis as much as I do, but he was forced to work with them for a couple of years. He’s very kind, giving me food and water and carrying out my waste. But hiding in this grubby hole scattered with cosy straw won’t last forever. I promised myself that I would stay here until the last of the Nazis had been killed (but of course, I don’t even know if they’re going to lose or win), but I told myself firmly that I needed to go out there and finish my unfinished business.

     When Gabriek had heaved Leopold’s large, worn-out kennel out of the hole and gone back inside to cook some scrumptious rabbit stew with potatoes and cabbage leaves; which he caught this morning for the both of us, I pushed the kennel aside and glanced around. It was sad and lonely enough without Trotski the pig and the clueless chickens, but it was even lonelier without Leopold. Carefully and cautiously, I peeped out of the barn doors and shielded my eyes from the bright sun. I hadn’t seen daylight for ages, as I had been hidden in total darkness. In moments, my eyes started to adjust slightly to the brightness. Even though I have changed my name to Wilhelm and bleached my hair blonde, I am still worried that the Nazis will find me and look at my private part just to make sure that I was not a Jew.

     Making sure that the coast was clear and that Gabriek couldn’t see me, I tiptoed out into the daylight. Suddenly, I stopped abruptly. I could see two Nazi trucks parked in front of our house and four Nazis were talking to Gabriek. Amon was there too and a handful of other Hitler Youth boys. They were laying in the shade of a tree, lazing around and chatting. But the four Nazis didn’t look too happy. They were showing a piece of paper to Gabriek. A piece of paper that I knew very well. A piece of paper that I had memorised in my head and packed away into a corner of my mind. I unfolded it and read: ‘Reward for catching Jews, Two thousand Pesos and a bottle of Vodka.’

     Gabriek seemed calm, but I could faintly see him sweating. Then I saw him plead while the Nazi soldiers marched over to the barn. Swiftly and quickly, I hid behind the wall at the back of the barn, gasping anxiously. After a few seconds, I shuffled over to glance around the barn doors. I saw the Nazi men opening their eyes wide and gaping when they saw the big, dug hole. One of the Nazi soldiers shouted angrily at Gabriek in German, saying something which I presumed was a question as to why Gabriek had dug a hole in the barn and asking if he was hiding a Jew in there. Gabriek shook his head.

     As the Nazis stormed out, they turned their heads sharply to take a look at me. Something about their faces told me that they were suspicious about me, something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Suddenly, I realised that one of the Nazi soldiers were smaller than the others. I looked at him closer, puzzled. And then I realised. That Nazi soldier wasn’t a Nazi soldier at all. He was Cyril. My worst enemy, who had tried to kill me. And he was smiling. 

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