Time, Never Underestimate It [WATTY AWARDS 2011]

Time, Never Underestimate It

1946

I stared into the darkness, my room being abandoned for years. Dust laid heavy on everything, the only dim light was the small window, snow falling outside. I took off my winter furs and made my way to my old bed, everything still in its place. The third pillow was still thrown on the floor from me knocking off just before I left, my shoes still laced, my old childhood teddy bear that once told me everything was going to be ok, sadly the love wasn't there anymore, I embraced it, but I couldn't feel its warmth. My cushioned chair still had a deep dent in it from my father reading me bedtime stories to calm my nerves from the far off bangs and booms. For being through a war, my home wasn't badly damaged. Only a few blasted out walls, it was a strong stander.

When Papa had read to me, the world had stopped, instead of just reading the words on the plain paper page, he seemed to release the characters, places and events as if they were happening before my small brown eyes. When Papa would finish he would poke my teddy back into my arms, adjust the warm blankets and silently creep out of the room without stirring me nor my puppy, Leo sleeping at the end of the bed, his warmth heating my feet.

The relationship Papa and I had was magical, until he had to leave for the war, fighting alongside the other countries in the United Nations against the Nazis. Leaving me alone with Mum and  Leo. That sad day when we had to wave him off was still strong in my mind. I remember the day I got the telescript from the officers, the plain script reaching into my heart and ripping it out, Dad was gone, but not dead.

My only incentive being to find him.