The voices won’t stop, they chant together in unison. They haunt me day and night, every waking hour they’re there. “Why did you let them do this? Why?” These words ring in my ears unceasingly. “What did we ever do to them? We are innocent! Innocent,” they hiss in my ear. Desperately trying to block them out I claw at my ears fighting against them, grappling with them.

They make tears roll down my cheeks, with their stories, all so different yet all the same. They all end the same way. I sob at night, their stories turn into my nightmares. I don’t eat, I can’t. Those nightmares are too gruesome, too violent. They ask me, “What kind of civilized nation would do this to people like us? Why didn’t they love us? Why didn’t they want us?”

There are millions of them some as young as three, some as old as nine. They are spirits of what once was. The visions of what could have been make me morose. Life is so melancholy it’s unbearable, knowing I live amongst such savages. They plead with me to change things to make things different, to make things better.

I don’t know what to do. I am only a person, only one person among billions.

There are millions of them. Some are as young as three weeks, some as old as nine months. They call out to me from the abyss, “Why did you let them do this? What did we ever do to them? We are innocent! They don’t even recognize us as their own, as part of them. No we are just tissue. We are not people, not humans.”
What did the Jews ever do wrong?
What did the unborn ever do wrong?