First They Came

Felicity sat in the corner of the room, on the hardwood floor. A crumpled tissue was held tight in her clenched fist as she turned the page of the catalog on her lap.

I sat on an easy armchair on the opposite side of the room. I watched as slow tears trickled, one by one, down Felicity's face. I couldn't do anything about it.

Elizabeth appeared at the open doorframe. She stopped before entering the living room, took one long glance at Felicity, and then sat down next to Lissie in the corner. Elizabeth took the tissue out of Felicity's hand. Felicity looked up, her mouth gaping innocently and her cheeks puffy.
Elizabeth leaned in to Felicity.

"First they came for the Jews,
and I did not speak out
for I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Unionists,
and I did not speak out
for I was not a Unionist.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak for me."
Elizabeth whispered the stanzas of a poem I knew. Our English teacher had been speaking to us about it the other day. I had no clue why Elizabeth had whispered this particular poem to the gloomy Felicity, but Felicity seemed to understand - she was deep into a hug with Elizabeth at the moment.

Elizabeth and Felicity got up slowly and silently and walked out of the room, Elizabeth supporting Felicity with her arm around her neck. I sat there and thought for a few minutes, and suddenly I understood.

First they came for Samantha,
and I did not speak
for I was not a Samantha.

Then they came for Kirsten,
and I did not speak
for I was not a Kirsten.

And then they came for me,
and there was no one left
to speak for me.

-Sonali