I wrote this story as an idea for school. It is a short story about a child made to face problems that adults find hard to deal with. It is set in a town that was hit by a war.

Please leave comments and I hope you like it.


1. Alone

Snow falls for the first time in years. I never really remembered what it was like – of course I would never admit that to Charlie. Being the big brother I had to have some things he didn’t. Sending sharp pains deep under my skin, the flakes feel weird on my already too cold hands. I want to cheer and run about but on my own? Who cares? Nobody. Nobody is here to care because of this stupid war.

         Every step I take is another memory lost. Warrington just isn’t the same. There is still the golden square, though the fountains are little more than rubble and the shops destroyed beyond repair. In the distance I see the stadium of the wolves – our enemies. Personally I’ve always been a Saints fan, though seeing this wreck pulls at my heartstrings for the great sport. The town seems bigger now. There is nothing really connecting us. Roads have been closed for months, shutting the middle off from everywhere else. I used to go round Penketh and swim at Great Sankey with my friends. Now there seems to be nobody around. Only me left, walking alone.

         Problem is there is not much left of me. Mum always said that family makes us; family comes first. I always thought it was a saying to make Charlie and me stop winding each other up. I didn’t know she was taking that to her grave.

         I saw it happen. Heard the scream. They were screaming at me, telling me to run. I did. I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have left them. But I did. I left them. I turned to look as the shot fired and the blood poured down their faces. My parents were dead. Charlie was always slower than me. He never made it. One shot through his back. He fell down. I haven’t seen the bodies since.

         That’s what I tell myself I am doing - looking for them. The truth is I don’t really know. Just I need to keep moving forward. Keep doing something. Keep blocking the real world out.

         I am at the stadium now. So close I could touch it. I think it was set on fire, maybe a week ago. Nothing else apart from a gap in the wall close by seems to be too damaged. I walk through to see the burnt tuffs of grass poking out here and there. I sigh and the sound is echoed through the standings. Sent back is the sound of an engine. Cars and buses don’t run any more. Or come from up above.

         Now I can see it the enemy jet flying across the sky – carrying a bomb.

The sound is excruciating, the pain even worse. A scream is trapped within my body and only a weak gasp escapes. My vision is tinted with black spots. Images of happy memories float in front of my eyes. I feel it.

         The cold seep through my body, as death settles in.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...