Night By Elie Wiesel Monologue

Death is not something I would wish upon anyone but myself. It’s not something to be longed for, and it’s not something I’d force someone into. At least, not who I am now. Death is a cold hand gripping my neck, my arms, my torso, pinning me down. Death is punching me in the face repeatedly. Death is keeping me from opening my eyes. Death won’t let me see life again unless it’s when my mind wanders. I’m trying to fight against this but Death won’t let me. I stop struggling for a second, trying to catch my breath, but no air will come in. I plunge into unconsciousness.

*

My clothes are bright and clean, my hair a lush dark brown, not the pale tones it has dulled to. A gold star is pinned to my lapel. I wear it with pride.
At least, I did until we were evicted. A note was in our mailbox from the landlord.
The Führer has issued a decree ordering all Jews in this area to be transported to a safe haven, somewhere your family can
I realise now that these people don’t need help from me. They need help from each other. It was the support for everyone that kept them going. The optimism. The hope for the future. My loyalty to my brother is my Achilles’ heel, it brought be right to Death’s open arms. I didn’t have that. I only had one person in mind ㄧ my brother. I let darkness into me to save him. I extinguished his light. And now my attacker will extinguish mine.
Everytime I close my eyes I see my brother, reaching for me like Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam. There’s something in his hand. Through the gaps of his fingers, I can see that glints gold.
“Take this!” I hear him scream. He opens his hand, a Star of David resting on his palm. It’s the star he sold to the SS guard so long ago. “Just stay alive, that would be enough.”
Even in death, my brother is still trying to keep me alive. He doesn’t understand that it’s futile. I’m ready to die. I know I won’t see my brother in the afterlife. I know that I don’t deserve