Entry 9, 16:41, Bus

We're on our way to the death camp, and it's already dark at 4:41, the houses are thinning out and the trees are getting wider, large black trees spread in a single row against the road. Every once and awhile the row is joined by a thick forest, much thicker trees than the other forests, these ones are black and dense, and you can't see through them. The road is getting eerier, the idea of stopping here is terrifying in itself, it's all very dark and looming, demonic one could say. I can imagine the absolute fear rising if one were to ever be in a cattle car driving through this. Each and every one of the houses within the forest at the edge of the road looks like it was taken straight out of a horror film; I would never even want to visit one, even if I was invisible. How can someone live so close to one of the most inhumane, disgusting camps to ever take place, eat and breathe so close to death, to have been able to smell and see the thick black smoke, to drive down the same roads as millions of wandering souls, how? It repulses and terrifies me, was I made of different blood and flesh? Did I grow up with different values and beliefs, [Of course!] from different home life? Different heart?
How can one be so obviously cruel and demonic, inhumane and insensitive? Live and do nothing, absolutely nothing? To stay living in a home which has breathed in the ashes and the soot of the death camp. Soil that has had pain and cruelty seeped into the very wood that holds it together. Who are these people that continue living here? Do they have children? Grandchildren? Do they tell stories of what happened? Of what they've see and heard? Or do they keep it quiet; living on ignorantly, keeps their grandchildren innocent and unknowing. Maybe they were affected, so much so that they can no longer sleep and night, perhaps it is their home which plagues them, chains them down, where they can not leave for they have no money, or sell their home for no one will buy it, perhaps it is a nightmare, and they would do anything to change their situation...but this can't possibly be true, because if they were that horribly affected, they'd be long gone by now.

The electricity poles look like mini watchtowers; this is getting to be so real, so very close to home.
People live here?? HOW?? How can people live here??? It is, beyond, me!!

Treblinka 9
7
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4
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...I'm scared, I’m so scared, we're going into a forest, curving the road, going deeper, we're climbing a hill, f***, f***, we're getting off.

-Netanya Bushewsky