Wartorn

Chapter 2

Brooke, Logan and I set out the next day, me carrying my guitar in its leather case. Mother is staying in the care of the neighbours until Brooke returns. I am wearing the same clothes as I was yesterday. We do not have rucksacks. Why pack when you have nothing to pack? Brooke trudges forward leading us, I’m bringing up the rear. Logan is skipping along in the middle singing ‘Skip to my Lou’. I should be amused at his naivety. Instead it fills me with a greater sadness. How will he survive without Mother or Brooke to look out for him? At least he won’t die. That is all that is keeping me going- the promise of safety.

 We reach the safe house later that day. The sight of it sends chills down my spine. The metal fence is topped with barbed wire. I know it is to keep danger out, but it looks as if they are trying to keep us in. The structure itself is an old fashioned boarding school building, made of crumbling bricks. Brooke ushers us towards the gate. An armed sentry stands at the gate, his hand atop a shining silver pistol that glints in the sunlight. He could shoot us all without thinking twice about it. Brooke clears her throat nervously. “Excuse me? Is this the safe house?” she asks, twisting the ring she is wearing around her finger. The soldier gives us a hard glare, before stepping aside and opening the gate. Brooke nods her head to him, and steps through the gate.

We follow her up the long winding pathway to the vast wooden doors, guarded by another soldier. He opens the doors, nods to us, then motions down the hallway at a smaller door. Brooke, Logan and I enter the silent building. The door looms in front of us. Brooke knocks timidly, and the door is answered by a short old woman with grey hair pulled back into a bun. She looks down her abnormally long nose at us. “Two for boarding?” she asks briskly. Brooke nods. “Well, come on!” the woman says. She looks pointedly at Brooke. “You may go,” she says, making flapping motions with her hands. Brooke hugs me tight and looks me straight in the eye.

“No matter what happens, I will come and get you when this is over.” She wipes a tear from my cheek. “Stay strong. Protect Logan. If I don’t come back, make sure he is ok.” She takes off mother's wedding ring, slipping it onto my finger. "No matter what happens, I will never forget you, little sis." Brooke nods at the woman. “Thank you for protecting them,” she says, before turning and walking out without looking back. Just as well. If she had of looked back I would have started crying. And I wouldn’t have been able to stop. Logan looks up at me curiously. “Where’s Brookie going?” he asks. That does it for me. Tears begin to run down my face. “She’s going to look after Mummy,” I sob. Logan gives me a look that plainly means he thinks I'm insane. “Is she coming back?” he asks, still bouncing around. “I don’t know,” I say, resting my chin on his bouncy blonde curls.

The woman behind us clears her throat impatiently. “This way!” she says, turning and walking briskly through the door, and then further on into a hallway. Logan and I follow, almost running to keep up with her.  She takes a series of turns, and we end up at an office. The woman sits in an office chair behind the desk. “Names?” she asks, opening a laptop.

“Sonya and Logan Dermont,” I reply shakily. She types something into her laptop. She motions to the door behind her. “Go through there. Ask one of the matrons to assign you,” she says, not looking up from the screen. I grab Logan by the wrist and gently tug him through the door. The amount of children that confront my eyes shocks me. How many families have been affected by the war? One of the matrons looks kindly at us. “Are you new?” she asks kindly. I nod my head.

She smiles and turns her gaze to Logan. “What’s your name?” she asks.

“I’m Logan,” he lisps proudly. "I can write my name all by myself. My mummy taught me." She smiles, and turns to me again. “Would you like to be in a dorm together or across the hall from each other?” she asks. I sigh in relief. At least they are not going to split us up. “Across the hall,” I say. She smiles knowingly. “Sure,” she says, leading us to a side door that opens to a hallway. She takes us up the stairs, an endless, winding staircase that seems to have no end. "I've allocated you both dorms with children who have been here a while, so they can get you settled in." She knocks gently upon a door. "Gwendolyn. Open up please!" A slim girl opens the door. Her face breaks into a smile. "Fresh meat?" she asks. She grabs me by the arm and tugs me into the room.

"Please take good care of her, Gwennie!" I hear the matron shout as Gwendolyn closes the door. "Hi, I'm Gwendolyn, refer to me as Gwendolyn or Gwennie and I'll kill you. I get enough of that from the matrons. Call me Gwen," she says, throwing herself back on her bed. "So- what's your story?" she asks. "My father was killed fighting the war," I say. "One of the bombs dropped in the air raids hit my house. My brother was almost killed by the fire. My life is a mess," I sigh, reliving the fire in my head. The heat, the smoke, everything fading to black as I passed out. "Wow. Sounds really messed up. At least my family is alive," she says.

"Your family is alive?" I ask, astounded. People came here because the war had screwed up their lives, messed up their families, taken away their homes. How could Gwen's whole family be alive? "Yeah. My grandmother founded the safehouse. She probably entered you into the system. Your brother is bunking in with mine. The matron you met was my mother. My father is working in the hospital on the front line. He's still alive. I'm so sorry that your family was one that had their father and husband killed," she says. "If it's any consolation, your brother is in good hands. Dante won't let him get out of hand." I give her a smile. "Thanks. Logan is my life. He's the only family member I can protect now. I'd risk my life for him."

"Well, you're safe now."