Across the Channel

Chapter 2: The first Bombshell. 1/3

"My Dear Samuel, I apologize for not writing yesterday. I know you were busy, and I was too. Truth is, I had to move again. My Address is attached, I live in a small town right outside of the city of Calais. It smells like Cigars and Sex out here. I hate it. The only thing that would make it better would be you, Mon amour. But, I know no way to get to London other than by boat, and that won't be happening, They Charge an Arm and a leg for a small seat on a ferry Across the Channel. Until we meet again, Mon petit Samuel. "(My little Samuel or My closest boyfriend, Samuel)"

I hate writing these fucking letters.

The more I write the more I want to hold him. The more I miss.

This is so unfair.

It's like I am sitting and waiting for the smoke and death from the start of the war to fill my lungs. And I have no one to see me through this...

"So... are you done sulking or do you want to finish this cocktail I created?"

Christine's voice echoed through my head as I slowly came back to the senses. We were in our apartment. Right.

We moved in to this apartment to save money, her Husband at war and my Samuel stuck in London.

"I know I don't drink but if I were to; I would be black-out Drunk by now."

The words just involuntarily came out of my mouth as if something was stopping me from speaking in my own free will.

"You miss him. I can tell." Christine's voice was soft, kind, and reassuring.

She understood what type of anguish I had, but she also had her own pain. Her worry for her Husband; William, Radiated off of her like heat from the sun.

"You're so observant. Yes, I do miss him." My voice quiet as I folded up the letter.

"Oh; Ma amie My friend (Female), It's okay to miss him."

She would've been a hypocrite if she didn't end up saying this to me.

"It's just.." My voice wavered.

"You don't need to have a reason why. You can miss someone who is a meter away, Or 500 Kilometers away. No need to explain yourself."

"What would I do without you, Christine?" I said, a sad laugh escaping from my lips, like a roadrunner escaping to freedom from a sad predator.

I was trying so hard; Desperately trying not to cry. My throat blocked with sorrow. Each new pain filling a bucket that was now threatening to spill.

I just sat there for a moment, my hands clutched over the letter, and my eyes hyper focused on the floor.

Christine knew this pain all too well. William was drafted as soon as war broke out in Czechoslovakia. Since Adolf Hitler violated the Treaty of Versailles.

He'd been away from home since the start of the first draft.

"Do you... want to watch TV?" Christine murmured; I barely heard her anyway.

I numbly nodded. She was going through so much more than I was, and yet I had let my emotions get into my mind, to my Heart.

I set the letter down, I couldn't bear to look at its taunting creases anymore.

As Christine and I watched the black and white film on the TV, a sound cut the numbness of my mind like a knife.

Air Raid Sirens.

"Merde..." "Shit." I murmured.

Christine sighed. She didn't seem too Panicked, until we saw a flashing in the distance.