Under Fire

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It seemed as though it would never stop, the hunger, the crying and the bombing. Not many houses were left standing. It looked like a junk yard, Thanet that is. London was the worst, that’s what I hear, I’m not sure about that because I live in Kent just outside London, in 64 Cross Lane, in what’s left of it, with what’s left of my family. I don’t know when it started, there had been several car bomb attacks in London, well all over the country. At first I thought it would stop, that the terrorists were trying to scare us, not go to war with us.

Then it came home, literally, my grandparents were killed, a bomb hit their house in the middle of the night while they were asleep. I know the exact date, time, it was like I was there , you see I was their only grandchild, my parents didn’t have time for me let alone for another kid so they didn’t have any more. I was close to my grandparents, I used to stay over nearly every weekend because my parents were so busy with work. Work, it seems so unimportant now, the more time my parents spent with me the better. All that changed though, mum and I were going to America.

They said it was safe there, that they couldn’t reach us there. As after the September 11th attack the enemy weren’t the only one preparing for war. My dad had to go because they were calling up all the fit men and women under the age of 40. My dad was 36, a P. E. teacher for disabled kids so he had to go, but why on my birthday? It was a bit ironic my birthday usually brought everyone together and now we were splitting up, my grandparents dead, dad going off to fight, he probably would not come back and mum and me being evacuated off some where.

Mum not the fittest person the planet, she used to be a psychiatrist, not really useful in the army, so we were sent to Utah in America. I would have been excited as it being my first time on a plane, but sitting in my seat watching the escort planes coming in and out of view thinking, are they going off to stop some bomb hitting us? This was not my idea of exciting especially when then left us to land, it was like our safety net was being taken away. Now that we were in America, we were treated like orphans, being shipped from one place to another.

The first month of being there was alright, that was until they bombed Washington. Yes, Washington. The whole of America was in panic their president dead not mentioning thousands of others that died along with him. All of a sudden their ‘bubble’ of security, their thoughts of being safe, burst with the bomb that hit. Everywhere, everyone was saying it was World War 3 and the world was ending, in truth they were right, the world we knew was ending. America and England where now officially at war. It was only between England, America and Afghanistan.

Though the rest of the world was behind England and America unofficially. People were all hoping America would win, hoping it soon would all be over and no more blood would be spilt. Everything stopped, all the prejudices in America and England were null and void. It did not matter now everyone was united in fighting the terrorists. Everywhere you went, where posters saying ‘down with Afghan’. Everyone was on Bush’s side. People started to realise that whereever they went they were in danger of being bombed no one was safe anymore. So we went home, well to… hat was left of it.

There was destruction everywhere nothing was recognisable anymore there were few complete buildings most had no roof or they had walls missing. We were forced to live in my grandparent’s old house, which had no roof, it was better than nothing though. Most nights mum would cry herself to sleep. She would try to muffle it by crying into her pillow, hoping I would not hear it through the wall but I could, I could hear it loud and clear. She made it worse. It made me feel as though I couldn’t let my emotions out as well as though I had to hide them.

Though once I had to let it out just a little, I had sneaked out of bed to listen to her talking to someone “…. She doesn’t realise what is going on, she’s too young. Her father has been gone over 6 months now. I just don’t know what to do! I can’t talk to her because I’m scared she will not understand. No! It’s not that I don’t care.. It’s just.. I miss him soo much… One of these days I’m going to get a yellow letter, just like next door…. telling me my husband is dead. ” Some reason fate was not kind to us. The yellow letter mum talked about came the next day.

With it came pain and sadness sealed inside, which was let out when my mother opened it. Somehow the following week, I don’t know how, the letter came into my possession, and changed my life. “Dear Mrs. Baker, I am sad to report that your husband was killed in action while making his way home to you. He had arrived at Manston Airport after nine months serving in Washington. On 17 December at 16. 00 hrs Manston was bombed, killing 500 people, and I am sad to say including your husband. We offer you our condolences and say that he will be sorely missed from the army. Signed General Caper. Sent with this message are his personal belongings”

Some how I memorised that letter after only reading it once, I was too upset too even cry only two tears escaped my eyes that time. I just put it back where I had found it and didn’t say anything to my mum, she just told me dad was in America. My mother became unstable quickly, constantly talking to herself. I think it got all too much for her. On the 27th December, I lost my mother to an overdose, ten days after I lost my father, she just wouldn’t wake up I tried to wake her but it would not work she just lied there asleep, she was beautiful laying there, though she grew cold really quickly.

I was on my own. Not long after that I was sent to live with an old couple, that was until I ran away. I could not handle them trying to replace my parents, I just could not take it, so I ran. Two years passed, I had taken all my money, which was not a lot and gone to live in Canterbury. It had become the major place in England now London was in runes, there was nothing left of London it was completely flat. The war was ending. The enemy was retreating. Well that’s what everyone thought.

For some reason they panicked, the enemy that is. They sent their only atomic bomb out to England. Dates are important, such as when I was born, when my dad died, when my grandparents died, when my mother died and when I died. My life and world I knew ended on the day war supposedly started 23rd April 2010. It hit London right in the middle. The whole of England, including 20 million people were wiped out of existence. Most had been shipped to America throughout the years and had not come back unlike me and my mum.

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