On the Run from 1939

Three

The devastation caused by the bombings bring tears to my eyes. All the buildings around us are crumbled to pieces, their remains scattered all over. Stepping forward, I feel a hand stopping me. I look up and see Father teary eyed, looking forward as though something bad awaits us. Only, something bad has happened. I can feel it.

Running towards our house, I run like I have never run before. My feet ache, head pounds. My dress flutters in the wind like an elegant bird of darkness. Hearing running footsteps behind me startles me; I stop in motion. A body slams into me and I fall to the ground. Turning, I see Simon above me. “Hello, Simon.” I say, “Would you please get off of me?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. He rises and gives me a helping hand up. We stay joined together, my silk palm wrapped up by his rough one. He looks towards our merged hands and slowly releases me. My hand almost saddens and his departure…

“I saw you running and came after you.” He says, his voice breaking at every breath.

“I wanted to know if anything had happened to my house. Would you care to come with me?” I ask. But I know I should not do this. My parents would not allow it. We must be a secret well hidden for now.

Walking gives me time to think. Why do my parents not approve? Simon is different to the rest of the Appleby family. I know he would not hurt me, his kind actions prove it.

Suddenly, I feel a hand brush against mine. I look up at Simon and see him turning red faced. Without thinking, I grasp my dainty hand in his colossal one and grasp it firmly, sure of myself. Simon just looks at me and smiles, a content look masking his face.

When reach my house, it feels like the life has been sucked out of me…

The house, in ruins, awaits us.

I recognise a section of my floral wall, scattered into a million pieces on the vast landscape. It all almost feels unreal…

Tears blur my vision, making it hard to see the catastrophic ruination that lies in store. Walking closer, I see many more of my belongings thrown away. But there is something even harder to perceive.

Edward’s favourite teddy bear is on the remaining floor. I pick it up and look at it. So many memories arise, so many times are forgotten. Throwing the bear away from me, I scream at the floor, the sky, the remains. I am picked up by strong hands. My eyes are as blurred as ever as I am dragged away from the bombing that used to be our home.

Waking up, am in an unfamiliar place. Stripped walls and bare floors. Ripped paintings and broken plates. I rise as an unknown man enters the room, Simon’s dog at his side. Looking around, I am frightened by the unfamiliarity of my surroundings. A knife is on the kitchen table next to me; I seize it and point it towards the man. He steps away, as though he is intimidated by me, which is what I wanted. He walks out of the room as simon walks in. I let down my guard, feeling comforted by someone who I remotely know. “How are you feeling?” he asks, concern on his face.

“Fine, thank you. Who was that?”

“That was my father, Robert. He just came in to see if you were okay.”

“Oh, sorry. I did not know.”

“It’s okay. As you said, you didn’t know.” 

“Your house is a bit tattered, is it not?” I ask.

“Yeah, we don’t get too much money so that’s why.”

“Okay.” We sit together, just looking around at the infrastructure of the room. Just as I open my mouth to talk to simon, I hear a crashing sound from the room next door. Shouting. Arguing. I almost feel as though I recognise the voices, but they are too muffled to hear properly. Simon gets up and slowly walks towards the door. He looks out and freezes in place. I follow behind him; look in the same direction.

My parents are at the door, shouting at Robert, cursing him, threatening him.