My name is Elsie Jackson. I'm 9 years old. Or at least I was.
I can't count how long it's been but it was sometime around 4 years ago when the war broke out. I was scared. They tried to convince daddy and Johnny to fight. But Johnny didn't go. I didn't realise that was the last time daddy would hold me in his arms and call me pumpkin. He left and I never saw him again. Me and mama and Johnny were doing just fine. Until that
day. Mama ran out to pick the potatoes and told us to stay inside. But I just made her a drawing using my worn down, broken pencils. I just couldn't wait to give it to her! 'Mama, wai-' bam.
The last thing I remember was mama screaming, lifting me and calling Johnny. Then it all went black.
YOU ARE READING
Army dreamers
Historical FictionI'm horrible at writing so please give tips NOTE: this is not trying to glorify war at all. its meant to bring to light how horrible it is.
