Before Another War

Many Years Ago

Sarah was lying on her bed, staring into the blackness. She couldn't sleep. Despite being just eleven, she knew when something was up. All those hushed whispers, worried looks and false smiles made her stomach turn. Of course, her parents wouldn't tell her. She was too young. But the not-knowing was worst. She knew it had to be something to do about money this time, they never seemed to have enough of it.

Putting it out of her head, she focused on sleep. It was a big day tomorrow, her first day of secondary school, and she was terrified. Worrying if she wouldn't make friends, if she'd do well in class, if anyone would even like her. Her mum had told her she was being silly.

'Of course you'll make friends. You've done it before haven't you?' She'd said. But there was still a niggling piece of doubt that wouldn't leave her. In the dark, she could just make out the dim shape of her uniform hanging over the back of a chair, neatly ironed.

She sighed, desperate enough to start counting sheep when a bang came from downstairs. Someone was knocking on the door. Sarah bolted upright and switched on the lamp next to her. Her small room lit up, and she climbed out from the covers. She wasn't going to miss this—not this time. She was old enough to know about the family business by now.

Someone ran down the hallway towards her, their feet thumping against the wooden floor. A figure came crashing through her door, making her jump. It was her mother. Sandra burst into Sarah's room, panic written plainly across her face. She grabbed Sarah by the wrists, blinking away a tear.

'Mum?' She asked weakly, butterflies rising in her stomach. Maybe she did want to miss this.

'I need you to hide, okay? Get under the bed.' Her voice was shaky. Sarah nodded, knowing this wasn't a time to play games. She heard more noises from downstairs, people were shouting.

'What's going on?'

'Get under the bed.'

Knowing she wasn't going to get an answer, Sarah dutifully climbed under, pushing cardboard boxes out of the way. Bending down to the floor, her mother met her eyes.

'Don't come out until I say. Understand?'

'Not till you say.'

'Good girl,' she said. Without another word, her mother stood up, turned out the light, and left the room.

Sarah sat in the dark for well over an hour, cradling her favourite teddy bear and shaking. She tried to ignore the banging and crashing from downstairs. They were arguing about something. Maybe a job had gone wrong. She wished it was already the morning. Suddenly, secondary school didn't seem like such a challenge. She focused on the friends she'd make, the teachers, the boring subjects she'd have to study. It comforted her.

After a long time, she heard a final tremendous bang. It was sharp and short, and louder than all the others. The walls of the house shook with the blow and she felt as if her eardrums would burst. Then, there was silence.