The Night Changes

Night Changes

At first, the sirens went off in my dream and I was confused for a moment. The wailing sound shook my ear drums and as I opened my eyes, realisation and panic took over me. I pulled myself from the mattress and shook my two siblings that lay next to me. I had previously considered staying put in the abandoned factory but after seeing the damage to other buildings, I decided the Underground was our best bet.

Charles grabbed the tattered blanket that we shared, and Nancy picked up the last family photograph we had left. She held it close to her chest, rubbing her eyes from sleep.

The bombs were already hitting their targets as we cautiously made our way into the street. The blackout made sure all was dark and the only thing that lit our way were the fires and explosions that burnt the city. Even from afar, the heat burned us. Searing into our souls and scorching us from the inside out.

The planes roared overhead, watching for any sign of movement. We were a couple of streets away from the shelter, but I thought running would make us the easy target. The closer we became to the shelter, the more people we saw. Crying children were held by mothers and grandparents. The elderly clung to one another in a desperate bid to stay together through another war. Injured soldiers followed behind their families, flinching at every loud noise.

Charles and Nancy had already begun to grip my hands tighter. Their breathing was quickening. I stopped and turned to them.

"It's going to be okay. It's safer in here and you can get some sleep. There are candles for us now." It wasn't very convincing, and I could tell by their frowns that there wasn't quite belief either.

Before I could say anything else, a hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see the warden glaring at me.

"No dawdling, get inside!"

We stumbled to the entrance and down the steps to the platforms. It wasn't well lit; the shadows grew in the corners and over the hundreds of people who accommodated the station. It was already filled along the wall and the train line itself was almost packed with sleeping bodies. We finally found a spot on the slope leading down to the tracks. Someone passed us two sleeping bags and we lay down on the hard concrete. Charles clutched the blanket as his lips trembled, and as I zipped up me and Nancy into our sleeping bag, I grabbed one of his hands.

It was quiet but the tension was loud. The bombs rocked the ground above us, unlodging the brick dust upon us. You could hear everything in the silence as everyone held their breath. Sniffling, snoring, crying, breathing, soft singing, talking. Now that this had happened a few times, I couldn't cry anymore. I used to wait until my siblings were asleep and then I would quietly sob until it stopped, or I fell asleep. Now, the numbness had taken over. I was still frightened but at least we had somewhere we could go to hide from the skies.

Nancy slept fitfully beside me. When she woke from a nightmare, she cried into my blouse, but I didn't let the cold tears touching my skin distract me from calming her down. Charles didn't have nightmares anymore. They only stopped a month ago. Now he sleeps lightly but calmly.

As the night slipped by, the bombing stopped for a few hours. Only a handful of people dared leave. Those who stayed slept until the klaxon sounded again to signal the morning, but not the end of the fear.

As we left the Underground, flowing with the crowds of people, the tension rose. Smoke rose high into the sky. Some fires were still raging and being tended to by firefighters. Everyone began to go their separate ways, running towards their homes. Some were already crying at the wreckages. My heart began to ache as I watched bodies being pulled from a house further down the street. A burnt teddy bear fell from a stretcher. Screaming. Sobbing. It tore at me like a knife. I pulled my siblings away.

Bricks and other debris were scattered across the roads. As we picked our way through the streets, we stepped carefully over each of the pieces as if they were cursed. Although no one came into the last street with us, the horror didn't stop there. More planes screeched overhead. No bombs. I squinted into the sky, relaxing as I saw the familiar colours of our planes.

Charles began to whimper, dragging his feet down the rest of the war-torn street. I offered to carry him on my back. He was heavy and my knees shook from fatigue. Nevertheless, I had a duty to protect them both. There's no one else to do so.

I began to feel relief swell through me as we rounded the corner to the factory. Then the dread and sickness jolted me.

There was nothing there!

Other than a huge pile of wood and bricks, there was one wall left standing and only half of it was there. I could see the mattress from where I stood on the pavement; completely covered in wood and burn marks. It was barely grey. The fire had gone out now; there was nothing to take. I could barely imagine- or want to think about- what would have happened if we had stayed here last night.

When I woke up to the sirens, I probably would not have wanted to wake the other two and decided to risk it, just this once. Sleeping lightly, I would have heard the bombs crashing to the ground, taking everything in their paths. Then I would have heard a loud whistle. Growing louder and louder. Crashing through the ceiling. No time to reach out to my siblings, no time to protect them. Too late. Then just nothing. Darkness.

Until I hear Nancy's voice shaking me awake bouncing on the mattress for added emphasis. I hear our parent's voices shouting us for breakfast and Charles' footsteps on the stairs. I don't feel confused or scared as I sit up. I smile at my little sister as she smiles widely at me. I don't feel hesitant or worried as I walk out the door and down the stairs. Our old house. My dad smiles and pats my shoulder as I sit. My mum places my plate in front of me and sits down across from me. The guilt, as I stare at my unharmed siblings, has vanished. No sadness as I glance at my parents. I feel a strange sensation in my face as my lips move wider and wider. I haven't smiled in so long. Not genuinely anyway. I don't remember that now. I am at peace and I've moved on. I'll be having breakfast with my family, happily, for eternity.