ELISE: EVACUEE

Reader Elise, aged just twelve, has written a brilliant story set back in World War Two... settle down for a gripping read!

Evacuee. It's just a label, a tag, a name they give to children like me. But here, back in London, I am finally me - Victoria Elizabeth James - again. I perch on the edge of the dirty train seat, gazing out of the window and choking on the steam as it drifts above my head like a sly snake. When the train stops, I grasp the pillowcase which holds all my belongings so tightly that my knuckles turn white.

I step off the train, pulled and pushed. A tall man with a long beard, who looks like one of the farm hands from the farm I stayed on back in Ebbw Vale, hurries past, sending me flying across the platform. My knees bleed like watery paint on a handkerchief, dyeing my white socks scarlet, but I ignore the pain. I need to get home, see my family. I sprint forward until my shins hurt and I gasp from exhaustion. Suddenly, a sound screeches through the air. What is it? It has haunted my dreams ever since the war began, even when I was tucked up safely in my bed in Ebbw Vale.

The air raid siren. It screams to warn us, warn us that the Germans are about to bomb us, but I can't stop because the Heinkels are getting closer to London. They turn the sky from turquoise to grey: they paint the clouds charcoal, unlike the soft wisps that were swimming through the sky when I arrived. I dash into an old alleyway near my house because explosions are erupting, too close for comfort. I think they are getting nearer.

I struggle to my feet in a daze after the second shriek, the all clear, has ceased. Puzzled, I wander into the street. My worst fears materialise as I survey the scene. I can taste the smoke and tears on my tongue, smell the unforgettable stench of death. I hear cries and wails, fee my stomach twist. Corpses are littering the streets. Baker Street, Waterloo, Trafalgar Square, even Downing Street... bodies are everywhere. This has to be the biggest bombing raid London has ever seen.

I turn into my street - or what used to be my street. My heart skips a beat as I recognise some figures.
My mum, my older siblings, my neighbours, my friends...

My world.

Cathy says:
Whoa... a very powerful piece of writing. Awesome stuff, Elise! Would YOU like to see more fiction on DREAMCATCHER? It's up to you... COMMENT BELOW to have your say!