Ireland’s Own Short Story

Congratulations to Conor Bourke of 6th class who has been shortlisted for the Ireland’s Own Short Story competition.  Here is his entry.

The Midnight Train

There I was hiding all alone in my private space, the bitter cold attic. My heart was unhealthily pounding loud.  I was the only one present or so I thought.  I heard footsteps faint at first but then louder and more rapidly creeping closer to the attic.  ‘Please don’t check up here, please don’t take me’ I mumbled.  Soldiers stormed the house searching from room to room with their long knifed guns, medals pinned on their brown colored uniforms.  They were shouting, shouting something loudly in German.  I didn’t understand but I knew what was happening.  They were looking for me. All of a sudden the attic door swung open.  Closer and closer they came.  I couldn’t escape.  My heart was beating so loudly in my chest I felt they surely could hear it. 

No Messing Around

I froze.  My heart was thumping profusely.  This was it.  The light hit my face.  I looked up and put my hands up in the air.  I surrendered.  I was almost in tears.  I remembered the day the four other members of my family were captured.  I had managed to escape but not this time.  I was fighting for survival.  I walked outside resisting a little bit but there was no point.  I was outnumbered.  All of a sudden a rifle pointed to my back sticking into me like a pain in my side.  I was lined up with the other Jews.  It was 11:59pm.  I was getting put on the old dusty midnight train.


Each carriage full to the brim of men, women and children.  No air, no light, no space, fear in everyone’s eyes.  The train chugged forward.  There was no escape.  I had no view of our surroundings.  No escape plan came.  We were crammed in a carriage like beans in a tin.  


Suddenly the train door burst open.  ‘GET OUT’ a soldier screamed at the top of his voice.  ‘Come on pigs, let’s move now, hurry up’ he roared.  This was my chance.  Now or never.  I jumped off the train and ran as fast as a cheetah chasing its prey.  I heard shots been fired in the background, men roaring and shouting.  But I ran and ran.  Eventually silence.  Darkness gave me the advantage.  I hide in the undergrowth.  Ready to plan the next stage of my escape.  I could see the steam from the midnight train in the far distance chugging nearer and nearer to its final destination, the Concentration Camp.

By Conor Bourke

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