Left Behind

• Rebecca Tierney, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2017

18/7
I write this from the comfort of my bed. John has finally left. The weeks of worry gone, but I don’t feel relieved, I feel a crushing weight upon my shoulders. I must support Annie! Of course she knows nothing of our poverty. She simple believes Pa gone on holiday and that he will build a house and we will all live together. The women in the street mutter about myself lying to Annie. She is only five winters old. Memories of today are burning across my eyes, as if painted over my eyes. Perhaps if I write I shall get some rest…
John and I woke early that morning. “Mary make us one last pot of tea please” he whispered to me.
I dressed quickly. I couldn’t see him pack. I remember burning myself as I poured hot water into the cracked mugs. John reached out a shaking for our family painting and slowly, as if savouring the moment he wrapped it and tucked it away in that horrible suitcase. I bustled clumsily about cooking breakfast. Annie yawned as she walked lazily into the kitchen. She ate with gusto, slurping every last mouthful.
“Pa, what’s that?” she asked looking at the suitcase.
“It’s for me I’m going on a trip an adventure!” John had said dramatically. Annie giggled and smiled playfully at him.
“John, its time” I whispered slowly testing every word. A shadow slid across his face, like a ghost haunting a man. We readied quickly. Annie stumbled towards her father pulling the suitcase with her.
“You need it for your adventure!” she said loudly grinning happily. John smiled sadly, as he picked up the suitcase and then we were out of the house and in the streets.
I wished the walk would never end, but did all too soon. We had arrived. The train was spewing smoke out over the silhouettes of people embracing loved ones.
“Well little lady Annie” John said brightly “Goodbye”, He tipped his hat to her revealing our paper bird. She took it carefully, holding it like it was crystal.
“When will you come back from your adventure?” she asked sadly.
“When I’ve found a way to give you your wildest dreams” he whispered to her.
“I love you” Annie said as they hugged.
“I love you too” he muttered tears pricking his eyes. Then it was my turn. I sobbed into his shoulder, breathing in his dusty scent.
“Don’t leave me!” I moaned. He pulled me off and grasped my hand.
“I’m not” he replied. Then stepped onto the train as it began to chug away. His hand was pulled from mine. We watched the train chug away slowly and painfully.
Anne and I walked home that day in silence. Annie clinging onto my hands. So here I am now. I hate that Johns gone but he must I suppose. I believe Annie knows more then she lets on. I shall attempt sleep.
Goodnight John!