大象传媒

Chapter 1

The air raid siren filled my head with stirring pain as I lay on a bench in our Anderson shelter. My five year old brother, Arthur, and my three year old sister, Wendi, snuggled calmly at the end of my long, multicolored dress.( two dresses made into one, because I grow really fast and I had indeed exceeded the height of many girls in my year). They both had their thumbs tucked tightly into their mouths as they usually did when they were tired and uncomfortable. Wendi鈥榮 long, brown hair tucked neatly into a neat plait while Arthur鈥檚 untidy blonde hair sprawled everywhere as if he had just had an electric shock. Over on the other side of the curved panels, which were made up of our freezing cold Anderson shelter, was my annoying Fifteen year old sister Anthea. Though she wasn鈥檛 alone. She had dragged her new boyfriend over, Jack, and he was the weirdest person I ever knew in my life. His hair was tied back into a long black pony tail (which I suppose makes a change from Anthea鈥檚 brown hair curled up in a tight bun). His eyes were crystal blue whereas his cheekbones were bright red. Really weird, though I suppose they both suit each other with Anthea being a show of pig, and Jack being a weird person probably transported from Mars. Mum wasn鈥檛 here yet, she had being shopping in town when this air raid begun so I guessed, well at least this is what I told Arthur and Wendi, that mum had just gone to one of the public shelters and would return home safely when the all clear sounded.
I was wrong. Mum had being up at uncle Jake鈥檚 farm delivering the paper and pens he had lent her weeks ago ( so we were able to write our letters to dad who was fighting in the war) and had got caught up in feeding the pigs. They had heard the siren but Uncle Jake did not have a shelter built in yet so they ran as fast as they could to the public shelter. But it was too late and鈥︹��. Well it sort of explains itself.
Me and Arthur were sat on the sofa with Wendi on my knee. Anthea was sat rubbing Jacks hair as he voluntarily cleaned out our fire place (that鈥檚 one good thing about him) I was reading Wendi a book about a boy who runs away from home. Me, myself was thinking about a sign I had seen earlier.
Mothers.
Your kids will be safer in the country. Let them be evacuated. Come to the church on Sunday. Be there or kill your kids.

I didn鈥檛鈥檛 want to leave mother or anyone else for that matter. Anyway, we were sat in the living room, when there knock on the door. I jumped Wendi spilled of my leg flying across and banging her head on the bookcase. I ran over to her while An (Anthea) answered the door. When she saw who it was she immediately slapped the living room door shut, trapping us and Jack in there. Jack was peeping through the keyhole (what right had he? That was my keyhole. He wasn鈥檛 even in the family).
I wanted to put a cold towel on Wendi鈥檚 head but Anthea had locked the door. Wendi sat sobbing with her 3 year old podgy hand whacking at me as I tried to help. Eventually I got her to lay on the armchair with a damp cloth I had found under an old board game.
Anthea had being stood at the doorway for twenty minuets talking. I could hear her sobbing. I tried to see round the net curtains but all I could see was a dark figure offering her hanky after hanky.
A soon while after she came through the door. Her eyes were bright red as if she had being crying for her whole life. She told Jack, who by this time had red circles round his eyes by peeping through the door, to leave. She then dragged me by my arm and led me to the kitchen.
鈥淲hat is it?鈥� I asked making a grab for something to keep my balance. She said nothing for a few minuets. Apparently trying to wash all the tears from her eyes. 鈥淲here鈥檚 mum?鈥� I asked trying to sound jolly. She still said nothing as she poured two glasses of milk.
鈥淗ere鈥� she said shoving one into my hand so violently half of it spilled over my new dress. 鈥淚ts mum鈥� She explained after a few more silent minuets of drinking. 鈥淪he - she died last night she鈥�.鈥�
鈥淪hut up鈥� I interrupted 鈥淪hut it鈥� And ran up to my bedroom.
Our new career was to be Miss Oakleigh. She was to live with us until dad came home from the war. He was to come home quite soon because he had to be at the funeral. But suddenly nothing mattered anymore. I hated Mrs. Oakleigh. She would make us go to bed at five o clock in the afternoon when all my other friends were still out. She made me wash in my bedroom every hour I was at home. She even confiscated my chamber pot, she said it was revolting and I should learn to use the outside toilet. If you think that was bad it was murder being in the Anderson shelter with her. She would sing nursery rhyme after nursery rhyme making us copy all the actions, I was twelve for god鈥檚 sake.
The house had being quiet since mums death. Anthea never saw Jack again; instead she spent most of her time sulking in our bedroom. Arthur and Wendi, who I told the news gently after they had relised she was not there, were always in the garden with our dogs, Digtz and Mary. I had built a memorial for mum in the privacy of my draws. I really miss my mum. I wonder what the rest of the war will bring.

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