The Shadow Was Real

Laying in her jail cell, my grandmother was in and out of consciousness from the beating she endured for refusing to say Heil Hitler.

She was awoken by the sounds of horrific screaming...streams of French...more horrific screaming.

She lifted her head just enough to see a woman being dragged by prison guards to the jail cell across from her. The woman had been badly beaten. My grandmother assumed she was with the French Resistance due the fact that the woman spoke French. She also assumes the French woman was tortured because of the extent of her injuries...perhaps to extract information about the plans or whereabouts of those involved with the Resistance.

The woman never stopped screaming, yet my grandmother fell back to sleep.

Nighttime fell and all was quiet. My grandmother opened her eyes and looked around waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The woman wasn't screaming anymore. My grandmother looked to the cell across from her and to her horror, she saw a shadow, slowly swaying, slowly twisting.

My grandmother was the one to scream now. Every terrified fiber from her weakened, beaten body flowing through her lungs into gutteral, primal screams.

Two guards and the prison maitron came running in response.

"WHAT'S WRONG...WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??"

"THERE'S A BODY...SHE HANGED HERSELF!!!!!"

The guards and maitron assess the cell across from my grandmother.

"It's late. She can stay there until tomorrow."

"You won't take her down?"

"No. You'll just have to deal with it."

My grandmother just sat there. Staring at the shadow, swaying to and fro ever so slightly.

The next morning the body was still there. My grandmother couldn't help but to study the body in horrific fascination...where else could she look...this was the only view she had.

She studied closely and saw that the vertebrae in the woman's neck had separated. Her tongue was protruding from her mouth...swollen...black.

After all of this, my grandmother went on to tell us of the most luxurious experience she had after her jail stay. She contracted lice from the jail cell and the prison maitron made her get into a bath of scaulding hot water and soap. My grandmother says it was the best thing that happened to her during her four years in the prison camp. She stayed what seemed for hours, soaking, relaxing. The maitron had to come and finally chase her out of the tub...when the water finally cooled.

Perhaps that memory helped my grandmother to survive, and kept her from leaping over the edge...the way the French woman did.