Letters, Losses, Loved ones.

Chapter 1: Running and Hiding

Mother clambered upstairs, as she quickly grabbed and clenched onto all of her cherished belongings. "Stay right where you are, Abigail! I'm coming down to get you." she cried, clumsily running back downstairs, grasping my hand and bolting towards the basement. We dove inside the room, and mother shut the door. *BANG*

Mother embraced me tightly, and lovingly, as we both gasped for air, in the cold darkness. The loud bombs outside continued, destroying every house it landed upon. I could see a spark of light coming from a tiny window, which brightened the room. The light was of course only coming from fire. "Mother, look." i said pointing outside the small area of glass. "Thats Hanna's home!". Mother ran to the window and used a cloth to wipe of the dust. She lowered her head, as if to agree solemnly. Tears trickled down her sooty face, leaving dark stains running down her cheek. I figured that was how i looked, there and then. My best friend was gone forever. She fell to the ground and grabbed some biscuits. "Come, honey. Have some." She said laying down the jar. But i wasn't hungry. I was feeling more depressed, furious, and confused than ever before, and all at once too. "I hate war. I hate war." I muttered, my voice wobbling. I could feel an enormous knot being formed inside my throat. Mother hit the wall with her fist. "Oh! Me too, Abby." She slowly covered the window with a towel, frowning, "Me too."

***

The next day i woke. The noise of bombs had faded, as if further away now. Mother was still asleep. In fact, she was holding on to a tiny scrunched up piece of paper. I tip toed towards her, and carefully slipped a piece of cloth to replace the paper. (I had read this being done in books, to prevent someone from feeling that their hand was now empty.) I slowly unfolded the paper, but it was so dark, that i couldn't even make out the outline of the image. Then i remembered the small window. "It should be day now." I thought, and quickly took of the towel, hoping mother didn't notice and wake. Finally a bright light was shining through, and it wasn't because of the fire or bombs. It was the natural light of the sun. A light i have cherished ever since. Now i could see the picture clearly. It was of a man, dressed in an army uniform. I knew mothers brother was in the army, could that man be him? But it looked like a completely different person. Maybe mothers friend? Then it hit me, like a bomb hits a building. Was he my...DAD? It all made sense. I had never seen my father before and mother said that he left when i was little, and never returned. So, that would mean, that the war had been going on ever since i was a baby. And it also could mean that.....My father was still ALIVE! I knew the likeliness was extremely low, but their was a chance. "This is my dad, it has to be!" I thought, now hugging the paper, just like mother. Little did i know that mother had awoken. "Darling, what are you holding?" she asked, gazing at the cloth in her hand. All of a sudden she sighed, and shook her head, as if she had realised what had happened. "Come here, Abigail." she said sharply, slowly standing up, and rubbing her tired eyes, and wiping her dirty face. I obeyed. Slowly i paced towards her, still clasping the photo. "Is he.." I began, showing her the piece of paper. "Your father." she interrupted, and snatched the photo off of me. "You needn't worry about him, or the past." she said, stuffing it inside her bag. Her eyes were shiny, and mother quickly blinked, to help contain her tears. "But..." I said, struggling to find the right words. "I need to know. Once I know, I promise, i'll forget, and move on." I begged, my eyes burning, as I grabbed mothers bag, in search for the photo. Mother didn't even stop me. She just stood there, glaring at me, as if she knew she could hide something no more. "Your father." She began, clenching her fists, and avoiding eye contact. "Was a German." I glared at her, in complete shock. The germans were the ones bombing us now! But if he was german...that would mean.....i was part german too. "He is with the Germans?" i asked, biting my nails uncontrollably. "No, no, he hated the fact that he was one of them... thank goodness. He fled to England when he was just a boy. He was an orphan, you see. Growing up in England, meant he felt as if he had become an Englishman. I met him, just before the war started. I of course, had no idea of his true identity. When it was time for him to fight, he lied to the government, to the germans. He fought against germany. I loved him for it. But one day, i was digging through some of his files. Thats when i discovered his true name. His true birthplace. He disappeared that week." She said, sobbing, and grasping the cloth, to wipe her tears. "He disappeared?  Mother....what was his name?" i asked, laying my hand on her shoulder. "They know." she said blankly. "The germans, the english. They know what he did. We are in more danger than any other..." *BOOM* The bombs were back. And they were closer than ever before. The noise was unbearable, i covered my ears as much as possible but it made no difference. Then, all of a sudden, it happened. The bomb hit our home. The smoke broke through the walls, causing me and my mother to wheeze and cough. Mother quickly picked up a stone and threw it at the window. The glass was broken. "Come!" she shouted, and held my head outside the window, as she covered her mouth with a cloth. I gasped for air, it wasn't fresh, and smelt horrible, from all the dead bodies and heat, but it was better than the smoke that filled the room. "Mother!" I cried, "Your turn! Your turn!" I signalled her to take my place, for breathable air, but she continued to shake her head, and kept my me in place. "Stay," she said, still coughing, "Stay, I'll be f-fine."

****

Finally, the noise, fire, and smoke of the bomb calmed. Mother was no longer wheezing or struggling for air, and I could now breathe the air inside, without constantly popping my head out the window, gasping. We both sat down, in the darkest, coldest, corner of the room. All of a sudden, i felt a hand stroke my hair. Mother kissed me, and hesitated, as if not sure what to say. "Abby..." she said, in a tone filled with sorrow. "I won't ever let you witness, or go through what you have today. You're not safe here. So...I am.... sending you to the country side. It'll be...safer their. I am so sorry." And with that, she sunk back against the wall, as if wanting to say no more. I was overcome with panic and anxiety. "Aren't you coming with me? Where will I stay? Where will you stay?" I wanted to ask a thousand more questions, but my mouth could only allow me to let out so much. "There is an old couple who own property their. I used to know them well when I was young. They should be able to keep you safe until the war ends. Heaven knows how long..." she paused, as if remembering who she was talking to. "It's all going to be okay, you'll see. They are very nice, and keep extremely good cooks." I stared at her blankly. I didn't care about the cooks, or the food, or even the people i was staying with. All I wanted to know was..."Will you come with me?".

Mother sighed, "I am afraid they don't take adults, dear. Don't you worry about me, I'll be just fine." she smiled, calmly. But their was a slight doubtfulness an fear to her voice.

Find out what happens next in part 2: letters, losses, love ones :)