Blitz

What do you do when war destroys everything you love? Your home, your family, your life?

Kate Rosenkranz lived in London in 1940, when the bombs fell from the sky, and ruined everything.

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2. Dear Diary

First entry, 1931- 1938.

Dear DiaryI have never written in you, but I think now would be a good time to start. But first I am going to tell you my story, so we aren't complete strangers.

 

My name is Kate Rosenkranz, and I live in London. I was born on the 4th of March, 1921.

When I was a child my father left my mother alone with three children. I have a baby sister and a brother a year older than me. I knew my mom had a hard time taking care of us, but she did; no matter what. I could see the anger and misery, behind that well performed smile. When I realized this, I tried to make it easier for her when I was old enough to understand. Growing up, we barely had any money, so we had to walk paper-routes, look for pennies in the street, polish shoes. Anything.

When I was fifteen years old, I had to drop out of community school and find a job. After searching everywhere, I found a job, as a waitress in a pub. I worked there for several years until I had just enough money for one year of college.

During all this, my mother had gotten sick. She suffered from asthma, and had a heart condition. She never got out of bed, she just lay there. Every day, she looked a bit more frail and fragile. I could not handle seeing her like that. She had always been there for us, and now, she was hanging by a thread. A thread that could break any moment. 

Then one day I got a call from my mother, whilst at work. She said I had to come home immediately. She sounded sick, oh so sick. I rushed home, feeling scared and worried. I had never heard my mother sound like that before. I asked for a couple of hours off, at the pub, and made my way through the busy streets. I ran all the way, avoiding bumping into anything. When I arrived, I smashed the key into the hole and quickly let myself inside.  

 ‘Kate. Kate, come in here.’ I rushed to her aid. She was lying on her bed, her face looked pale, in contrast to her deep brown eyes.

‘Oh Mama! What’s wrong with you?’ I said before I could stop myself.

“I’m sick Kate. And I fear my time is running out. I may die soo—“

“What?”  I interrupted.I couldn't believe this. 

“I will probably die soon,” she said weakly. “And I need you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that you will take care of Jenny and Bill. I know Bill’s older than you, but just promise me, Kate.” I couldn’t believe it. I never thought this could happen. Mama dying?

"You can’t do this, Ma. You can’t leave us. You're going to be all right. I know that, you know that," I was crying now.

"Kate, honey, you’ve got to understand …" Her eyes fluttered half open. "Kate, promise me…" her voice was barely a whisper. ‘I promise Mama.. I promise,’ I clutched her hand tightly to my chest. Her eyes closed.

‘MAMA! Mama, wake up! Please!’ This just couldn't be happening. I held her hand even tighter and laid myself down beside her.

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