War Goes On

Heavy footsteps on the dirt road like a thousand beating drums. Screaming and sobbing filled the air as nearby cities were bombed. As we trudged through the narrow ally-ways over the rubble, we were surely safe from the Nazis. I hoped we were. A sudden violent thud vibrated through the dry ground as a person collapsed beneath me. That’s when we heard it.
“Alice, Alana, RUN! Run while you still can!” Nearby windows shattered. Gun shots fired.
You know when you’re running away with a group of Jews but an angry army of Nazis have spotted you, and even though you’re surrounded by 100 people you feel completely alone? That’s how we felt. Trembling violently my legs gave up on me as I edged toward the hard, unforgiving ground.
The room slowly came into focus. Thoughts spun around my head until an officer in metal boots pushed me into the cells harsh wall. I slid to the floor and wondered how long I’d have to wait until I’d be locked in the smoke chamber, or ‘the shower’ as they called it. Waiting until the officer had disappeared I punched the wall in frustration, pleading for it to let me out, for the war to end. To my utter astonishment, it worked; well at least the first bit. Almost laughing, I realised my fist had just gone right through the wall. Here was my escape…
As I walked mindfully through the destroyed streets and collapsed buildings I eventually found what I was looking for. My sanctuary. Virtually the only building on the street not completely destroyed was this one. I could tell it had been home to a Nazi family although I wasn’t afraid as the abandoned uniform lay awkwardly in the gutter. I didn’t care how bad it smelled as I pulled it on eagerly. Here I would start my new life as a ‘German’. Once Alana Ababneh, now Edith Anne.
Each time I rescued a person I searched their face in desperate hope, but none of them were Alice. I grabbed at yet another scrawny arm, helping them through the hidden hole before escorting them to my sanctuary. This particular person seemed impossibly heavy until I saw there was in fact two prisoners. The older one of the two had a familiar face framed with curly hair and a forced smile, although behind that was indescribable fear. The other girl, a small child, lay soundly on the ground, her face as white as a ghost and dangerously skinny. Her sunken cheeks showed no life and her pulse was barely there. I felt like crying. Slowly her eyes opened just a fraction. She called my name but her voice was barely a whisper. I suddenly realised the small child was Alice. Hugging her close I sobbed uncontrollably. Her eyes closed and her pulse vanished, but thankfully returned. I pulled myself together and carried her limp body until we reached the sanctuary where she could rest in a bed till she was better – if she got better.
The days slowly passed, some better than others. Her wheezing eased and her colour was returning. As the sun set that night the war continued but we were safe – for now.

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