Night Chapter 8 and 9

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"I can't go on. ... This is the end. ... I'm going to die here. . . ."He dragged me towards a hillock of snow from which emerged human shapes and ragged pieces of blanket.
"Leave me," he said to me "I can't go on. ... Have mercy on me. . . .I'll wait here until we can get into the baths. . . .You can come and find me"
I could have wept up in rage. Having lived through so much, suffered so much, could I leave my father to die now? Now, when we could have a good hot bath and lie down?
"Father!" I screamed. "Father! Get up from here! Immediately! You're killing yourself. . . ." I seized him by the arm. He continued to groan.
" Don't shout, son. . . .Take pity on your old father. . . .Leave me to rest here. . . .Just for a bit, I'm so tired ... at the end of my strength. ..."
He had to become a child, weak, timid, vulnerable. "Father," I said. "You can't stay here." I showed him the corpses all around him; they had too.

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