Safe and Sound

I remember the tears streaming down your face when I said Ill never let you go.

Arthur walked down the street, coming from work, trying to ignore the burnt and wrecked houses on the both sides of him, that were bombed down last night. There would be built new houses soon anyways. The smell of burnt food was hovering in the air and made Arthur cough, in the need of fresh oxygen.

His house was just about twenty meters away from the last bombing area and he was worried about his safety.

Though who wasn't?

It was 8.10.1940 and last night the German pilots had bombed London, his home, again.

No one was sure when would it end, and everyone was scared for their lives, praying every night for mercy and forgiveness. Children, who still had their parents to take care of them, hid behind their mums, confused and scared expressions glued on their faces. People visited at church more than ever, and it was normal for Arthur to see broken men and women, sometimes even children, crying by the street, in front of their burnt and bombed homes. Hundreds had lost their homes, and it would not end anytime soon.

Arthur was a teacher in a primary school about five kilometers away from his house. The school wasnt damaged yet, but everyday there was a higher chance for it.

Everyday his class had less and less pupils, each of them either dying or getting damaged by the bombing. Few times they had had to mix two classes together, because of so small number of pupils. The school he was working at wasnt too big, before the war they had had about two hundred pupils, but now the number of them was one hundred or less. Arthur himself wasn't really a child person, but he liked his job. Teaching the young human beings facts about the world, and making them understand everything, sometimes even learning something new by himself too, had made his day so often. Every day when he looked at the smaller and smaller class, some little part of him died inside.

Arthur got out of his thoughts as faint crying was heard from the slim alley from his right. The alley was like every other alley, it was almost unnoticeable and all it had was some old trash bins hiding in the casted shadows. The crying was coming from behind them. Arthur stopped in his tracks and wasn't sure what to do. It exactly wasn't his business, and he had enough problems by himself already, but the crying just got louder and louder, making his heart twist in pain, feeling like if he didn't do something, he might die.

It was a little kid.

And before Arthur hadn't even decided anything, he noticed that he was heading towards the crying, his legs moving by themselves. It was almost like some sense had taken over him, controlling him and making him move towards the crying child. Arthur hadnt ever felt a feeling like this, and he wondered if it was sixth sense, the kind mothers have, however refusing the ridiculous thought right at the moment it came in his head.

Arthur wasn't sure what was he doing but as he made his way to his destination he noticed a little kid, lying on the cold hard ground in a fetal position, crying. Arthur instantly felt pity for this little kid, his heart throbbing at the sight, as he looked at the childs fragile form. He reminded Arthur of glass, the multiple cracks deep below surface, almost breaking down and making the rain of millions of shards, forming a broken web of a fragile soul.

He was at least ten years old, probably few years older and his dirty blond hair was messy and covered his eyes. He had his eyes closed, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes, framing his face with the trail of salty water. He was only in his pajamas. His feet and hands, tightly wrapped around his torso, were dirty of mud and dust and small, still fresh injuries scattered all around his feet. With a quick glance Arthur could tell that the wounds weren't too severe. He sighed in relief.