Excerpt from my book: Kindertransport
 (Wild Rose Press)

I filled the syringe with morphine. My hands shook. Could innocent blood ever be washed away? Would my hands ever be clean again if I continued this course?
The gas would make them choke, gasping for breath as their life was strangled to nothingness. Morphine would make them euphoric, and an overdose would put them to sleep, peacefully, with no pain.
I filled the second syringe, I thought of each child as I punctured the rubber stopper, the needle sucking up the lethal fluid filling the tube.
Little Wilhelm.  treasured leader of the pack. The braces on his legs never stopped his imagination from soaring.
Lara. An artist’s soul expressed with the one good arm she had. Art was reflective of the beauty living in her heart. The twins. Isn’t intelligence measured with creativity? I would sorely miss their energy.
My hand slipped, the needle grazed the knuckle of my thumb. I swore and bit my lip. Perfect. I‘ll kill myself before I get the chance to euthanize my children. Then after I enter Heaven’s gate, if He lets me through them, I can tell God I’m an idiot and a murderer.
I rubbed my shoulders, they hunched with an invisible weight making my back ache.