Merely Alive

By Lalae Mozie

In Denmark, in the midst of World War II, thirteen-year-old Maya is injuredshot by a Naziwhen her city is bombed. Worse, her four-year-old sister, Elana, is killed. Her parents, resistance fighters, are determined to keep her safe, and so they send her to live with their close friends, the Coffmans, including Mayas friend Rose and Roses older brother, Greg.

As Maya settles in with the Coffmans, she and Rose go for a walk, with Greg tagging along. While out, they encounter the very same Nazi who shot Mayaand he recognizes her as the Jewish girl he shot only a few days before. Believing all three children to be Jewish, he and his fellow soldiers capture them and send them to Auschwitz.

Now Maya, Rose, and Greg must figure out how to escape and return home again. On their journey, theyll face many deadly obstacles and undergo adventure, love, and loss. Can their courage and strength see them through the brutality of war?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477212585

Lalae Mozie

Lalae Mozie is currently fourteen years old. She loves to read, write, and eat apples. Ever since she could pick up a pen, writing has been her favorite pastime. Mozie has written two books, Merely Alive and Always Will. She enjoys the support of her parents, teachers, and three dogs.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I was on my balcony when I heard the explosion. I hurried to investigate, running downstairs and then to the front of my house. Stepping out the front door, I saw my younger sister lying on the street, on her back. I ran toward her and my mama. As soon as I got closer, my heart skipped three beats when I saw my sister, Elana, losing blood from a gaping wound. She was covered with gravel.

Mama! What happened to my sister? I yelled.

Mama told me that Elana had been running from a Nazi soldier because she had assaulted him. He was chasing her, and then a bomb dropped. Elana was just in range and … Mama trailed off. I knelt to the ground, my hand on Elana’s chest, terrified that she was going to die in the first four years of her life. The once quiet neighborhood was now the loudest, most terrifying place I had ever seen. The trees were ablaze, and the houses were crumpling down. I started to cry when I looked up and saw two Nazis coming toward us.

I tapped my mama, and she froze. Then she picked up Elana and made a run for it. I followed. I glanced back and saw the Nazis running after us, aiming their rifles, getting ready to shoot.

Up ahead, two more Nazis standing by a tree saw what was happening. They opened fire. One of the Nazis I recognized from patrolling the neighborhood shot me in the leg. Stumbling, I fell to the ground. Mama looked back, her face filled with horror. I motioned to her to keep going.

I tried to find the strength to get up and keep running. The Nazis were still right behind Mama. Then it happened. A bomb struck, followed by a second, and then a third; it was another air raid. The black tar road was bursting up, pieces of it hitting me. The skies were red, and ash was falling like snow. Suddenly, all I could see was black, and all I could hear was my mama’s muffled, panicked voice. I could feel someone lifting me and could vaguely hear another bomb hit the road. After that, everything was silent.

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I awoke to stinging pain. I didn’t remember anything, and I didn’t know where I was. There were blue curtains drawn over the windows, my mother was sleeping in a chair, and a tray of food was sitting on a small table. I realized that I was in Copenhagen’s hospital. I turned my head to see where the excruciating pain was coming from and saw a doctor cleaning the open wounds on my leg. I winced when he started to sew the wounds closed. He noticed that I was awake and tried to finish up quickly.

He assured me that the worst part was over. I slowly started to get out of bed so I could go to my mama and wake her, but the doctor stopped me. He explained that I was too weak and needed to rest. I obeyed and laid my head on the pillow, only to find myself fall into a deep sleep.

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The next day, I woke up to sounds outside the door to my hospital room. I tried to get up, but all sorts of wires attached me to machines next to the bed. It hurt to just blink, and I felt very weak. I guess I must have made a sound, because the voices I had heard stopped. I lay still to see if they would start talking again. But then the door opened.

The dark-haired woman who walked through the door was wrapped in a blanket. The woman looked at me, concerned, which made me uncomfortable. I got a strange feeling when she smiled at me. I couldn’t tell who she was or what she was doing in the room. I had the urge to run and yell for help but decided against it because I didn’t have the