The End Gets Better - BBC Ghosts

2. Self-Caused Death

TW: Mention of sewer sl!de (OD)

They took me to Button house. Gave me a room upstairs that had red curtains eaten by moths. I felt like an evacuee. This is not a war. It's hell.
"Hanna, if you ever hear that siren go off. The one in the hallway. Hide. In the loft, okay?"
It was Havers. He was smiling as always. Although I'd heard him speaking to captain earlier about giving them 'a bloody nose'. I wasn't sure what he meant by that but I was sure about to find out.
Sitting down next to me, Havers said,
"I'm afraid I'll be leaving you tonight Hanna.. I'm going to the front lines,"
He smiled sympathetically at me and I shook my head.
"No, no you can't go.. I'll be alone, Havers. You're the only one I have left.."
"You'll have Cap? He'll look after you. And I'll send you letters. Every night!" Sounding more true than ever, he held me in his arms. I felt the gun on his belt and started to sob. If he has a gun. So will the rest of them.
"Im not getting any letters..."
Oh how right I was.

—————

I sat with Cap on the windowsill watching Havers walk away. Tears streamed down my face as I cried into Captain's shoulder. I couldn't help but notice Captain's tears. As they joined mine on the floor.
I saw him getting into a car as I ran down the path to get to him for one last embrace. But it was too late. The car was already driving away. I did what those movie stars do. I chased it. Rain started to pour and as I fell over, the only thing I remember was how the rain felt like it melted my tears on my face.

——————

Next morning, my eyes were sore. Captain seamed off. He kept looking over at Havers' empty seat. As if there were a ghost in it.
I didn't understand it at the time but heartbreak does things to a person. Like what Cap did to himself. I forgive him of course. Not that it's my place to do so. I'm just glad that he didn't die knowing what those people did to me. Or that's what I though before I died.

—————

I wake up. The date is November 8th 1943. Still waddling down the stairs, I see a crowd of people around something in the kitchen. That's when I saw it. The lifeless hand with a bottle next to it. I recognised the hand to be captain's.
Tears well up in my eyes when I run to him and see his eyes staring at the ceiling. The ghost of his pain still etched over his face. My life is falling apart.

Who could have predicted the air siren next. Nobody.