*Trigger Warning: Sexual Assault, violence, mentions of sex, and strong language* A Little Backstory on “Alisha.” “Alisha” was not the girl’s real name, her real name was Alissa (that’s how my grandpa spelled it)- only problem was, he never told me her last name, but “Alisha” was the name that…

This was written about me. I know it was, because of how my granfather phrases things. At first, you think he’s talking about his wife, but no.. it is indeed about me. Blood to blood. Skin to skin. Though you cannot give me blood- you are still my blood. You…

*Trigger Warning: Mentions of Assualt and Violence in the Church* This was written down in either 2000 or 1999, he didn’t specifically put a date. He had told me this story verbally, but also typed this story out. The Cathedral was not well lit. The angel sat on the Altar…

Undated, 1981. I couldn’t help but hear the screams of the girl. “Ellio! Ellio!” She calls! “I AM HERE! I am going here again! She grabs my heart and she says, “Don’t let me die! Don’t let me die in this room! Don’t let me die! Please!” I ask her…

When I discovered my Grandpa’s writings this year, I realized that his writings were very much like my own. He had different “stories” — mainly like mine, only except, his were more in depth and more “mature”- but I think that his mind and my mind were almost the same…

Petr Ginz has been on my mind lately, and I know why. His niece is fleeing from Israel at the moment. I know that his sister, Chava, died last year, so I’m glad she didn’t see any of this. Petr hasn’t left me alone either, which I’m glad for. I…

My grandpa left some journal entries, but they are on looseleaf paper, and some are in journals. My grandpa was not a diarist by anyway means. …

Around this time of year, I get really bad panic attacks and sadly, my depression gets really bad. My overall health goes to shit. Every morning, I call my mother and I try to keep it short and sweet. But on one such call, my mother brought up an event…

My Grandpa’s yahrzeit was Monday, August 28, 2023. He’s been gone for 14 years and to me, it’s still stings. As an autistic woman, I don’t take deaths very well, and I still don’t. I don’t “get over them”. My grandpa was not a Holocaust survivor, I’ll get that out…