On the Run from 1939

One

I walk the streets with my parents. Mother to my left, Father to my right. Mother's black dress flutters like a butterfly of death, with her small heals echoing into the distance which each step. Father's black suit marks his masculinity. The suit affiliates with the current occasion we are about to attend.

My brother's funeral.

I remember the day he went into eternal sleep so clearly...

The house is burning. Edward is inside. I must get inside. "Mother! Mother, I have to go in and get him!" I strain to be with him, to hold him in my arms again. "No, Clara. You cannot go in, Father is already in there." She turns me to face her. "I may have already lost him, do not let me lose you too." We stare into each other's eyes, her blue eyes boring into my own brown ones.

Reluctantly, I turn to see Father run out holding a small limp body. Edward's dead limp body.

We all rush to Father as he falls to the ground, Edward falling with him. Father lays on the ground, coughing. I look towards Edward, tears staining my eyes. His beautiful blue eyes, just like Mother's are wide open, staring towards me almost as though he is asking for me to help. "I am sorry, Edward. I am sorry I could not help you. I close his eyes, his eyes I will never be able to look into as I talk to him again...

Clinging to his charred white button down shirt, I scream. I scream at Edward for dying. I scream at Father for not being fast enough. I scream at whoever started the fire. I scream to relieve the pain, the never ending pain that throbs in my heart with every beat...

We arrive at the graveyard where Edward will finally be allowed to sleep. Chairs are set out. Grandma and Grandpa are sat near the front, closest to Edward's corpse. I sit next to Grandpa. He grabs my hand and holds it every so lightly, ever so slightly relieving the heart-wrenching pain Edward's death has caused me. An unrecognisable man walks over to the coffin and starts speaking. But I do not hear him as my ears are pierced with a sound that I know all too well.

The bomb siren. Everyone rises and runs towards the Andersen shelter located on the other side of the graveyard. I rise too, still holding Grandpa's hand. We pass Edward's coffin as someone knocks it over, revealing Edward's small body to the incoming planes for them all to see. Before I can stop myself, I release myself of Grandpa's grasp and I pick up his tiny body and carry it with us to our bed for the night.

As we enter the shelter, many complain of Edward's scent. But I could not leave him. Not for the planes to use as bait. I wish they would understand that he is my brother, I could not leave him. Not when he has not been put to rest.

I sit down with Mother and Father, spreading Edward's weight over all of our laps. Mother takes one look at Edward and starts crying. Father tries soothing her, not wanting any more attention pointing at us as there already is with the stench of death roaming the shelter, our direction being the host. I just look around, sure my cheeks are red from the running towards safety.

Suddenly, my eyes are laid upon a boy in front of me. No matter how hard I try, I struggle to pull my eyes from him. Thankfully, he cannot see me as he is too busy stroking the striking dog to his right. When I manage to pry my eyes away, I look to Edward's feet. I see a hand in front of me out of the corner of my eye. Looking up, I see the boy's arm out stretched towards me. I take it and shake it firmly. Looking closer to his face, I see he must be roughly my age. Brown dashing hair with brown eyes just as mesmerising. "I'm Simon." He says, masculinity in his voice.

"Hello, I am Clara." I say back.