When the Bombs Start Falling

World War 2 was time of Grief and Sorrow and I tell you a story of two sisters, Molly and Laura Wright who find that through this they can find something else...

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1. The Weight of Soil

Chapter 1

20th June 1917

 

Jeremy felt the soil leaning on his chest before he got the chance to see it, he felt the warm wetness as it oozed round his body, he felt the struggle to breathe as a houseful of wreckage crushed his chest, he felt the taunt of darkness as it slyly crept around him. Groaning with pain he heaved the back of his living room chair off his chest which was the strangest thing he thought, not really what you would expect to do any morning. He tenderly lifted his arm that was thumping hard in pain and hauled himself out into what it seemed his living room. Well what was left of it that was. The chairs were well four legs and a cover sprawled around the floor the table down flat like a run over dog, the ceiling lower but not down so he could walk freely (with a slight limp that is). He wondered what his wife Mary and daughter Lucy would be thinking now; they would be coming from their weekly shopping to find their own house a shameless wreck on the ground. He wanted to burst out of the soil and tell them he was fine and everything was going to be ok but he knew it wouldn’t be. He shuddered at the thought of what they would feel to know he was some where in the lumps of what used to be their home. He forced him self to think of brighter more positive things such as err…. He was still alive. That was very positive he pondered. He was an ex army soldier, surely he could make it through this. Shaking his head he looked around him curiously.

From what was left of his living room he started to make it into a liveable space. He fixed the table with one arm which he was very proud of, dusted the furniture, found their emergency supplies of water and made himself a reasonable bed out of chair cushions. Sitting down on one of his chairs he wondered how long he would be in this falling down room for it did not seem it would last much longer than a few days. He couldn’t have been any more wrong.

 

Over the rest of the day he searched the room for any kind of food however he found none.  He made himself rations of water that would at least keep him alive until he was rescued. He laid himself down on his bed as he attempted to sleep, he wondered of the world outside and how long it would be until he saw the sunlight once more. Suddenly the sound of little legs made his ears prick. Behind him a small black spider scurried along the floor.  He couldn't. But he was so hungry. Without giving it another thought he leapt out like a vicious dog and caught the bewildered bug and chewed it. The taste was to say at the least not appetising but it did seem like a source of food. He was desperate and right then that seemed the only hope that he would live to see his daughter Lucy again.

 

11th July 1917

 

Jeremy sighed, he was a man who had lost all hope that there was for him, it had been three weeks and nothing, he coughed and wheezed, he suffered with splitting headaches and constant vomiting. He knew he had little time to live however he didn’t care he just wanted it to stop. He laid on his worn out cushions  which had been slept on so many times, he sighed for the millionth time that day, he thought of his family as he did every torturing second. He forced himself up towards the worn out table where is diary lay, for the last three weeks he had written in every way he could to describe how he felt and what it was like living down here, it felt like this diary was now part of him because just like him it was dieing, the pages were brown, crumpled and worn from the amount of times he flicked through it, the cover once a raging red was now a muddy brown. He was just about to go for a sleep when he swore he heard scraping almost like a dog trying to get in.  A flicker of hope lit inside him and burned joyfully, could this be it, his rescue he had waited so long to come? Then he saw it, the glorious light seeping through the mud. He ran towards it never taking his eyes of the light, that light, the light of truth, he was saved. Yet he knew in his heart that beautiful freedom and his life would not last for very long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2nd August 1917

 

Jeremy lay on his death bed, around him stood his darling wife Mary and his little princess Lucy. Both were red eyed and weeping, Jeremy couldn’t bare for this to be his last sight of his two most loved women in the world. He felt for his daughter Lucy who was only 9, she didn’t deserve to lose someone she loved at such an early age he thought sadly.

“Sweetie don’t cry for I am to go to a happy place.” He whispered trying to comfort her,

“But papa I don’t want you to leave me. Please don’t” She cried clinging onto his arm. Her mother quickly held her back afraid she would do something stupid. She wasn't saying anything but her eyes were telling the whole story to Jeremy as they glistened with tears.  Seeing that his daughter was still crying heavily he muttered some soothing words.

“Where I am going Lucy, It is a very special place and one day in a long time you will join me.” Looking up with hope the little girl seemed delighted by this news.

“Really papa, me, you and mama will be together?” he nodded playing with her excitement. Then something came into his mind. Quickly he took his daughters hand.

“Sweetie have you found it?” Lucy was puzzled

“Found what papa?”

“My diary of course! Why its cover is a flaming red and it is stitched with shining golden threads. Please find it Lucy. Please!” He was at the point of begging, alarmed by his urgency Lucy was quick to reply. “I swear I will never stop looking papa. Ever I swear!” And at once her father seemed more peaceful then he had ever been.

“Good girl. That’s my girl,” and slowly Jeremy's life slipped from him while his wife and daughter wept at his side.

 

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