My last memory, was being in complete hell. I felt nothing, I had no idea if any of my family members were alive. I suspected that they had died, but thats just because I saw more and more people getting brutally murdered every day of my life. Experiencing the holocaust was absolutely horrific. Having to see my people, be put through such a terrible massacre was honestly depressing. I wanted to die at this point, figuring out I was sick with a disease as bad as typhus and that it would take my life sooner or later was music to my ears. My last memory? Pain, heartbreak, loneliness. I wanted my family, I wanted my dad to be rubbing my back and telling me jokes, I wanted my mom to be braiding my hair and telling me to get ready for bed. I wanted to sleep next to my sister and just know someone was there. It troubled me to know I couldn't even remember the solemn sound of their voices. My last memory was that I was ready to be in heaven with god, and reunited with my family.