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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

Missing in Action

By Christian De Putron, year 7, Elizabeth College

The streets were filled with tears of joy, brothers, fathers gone, two of them being Peter and Jack, my brothers, the closest people to me. At home it was just me and Mama. It must have been hard, that sick gut feeling of never really understanding what’s going on.

I felt she might have needed someone to talk to, but who was I, a 12-year-old girl in a male-dominated world, what use was that?

Often you could hear the tears creep through the cracks in the floorboards and the cries bouncing off the walls. Apart from that everything was silent, no birds singing, no wind blowing, almost as if the world was holding its breath waiting for the war, it had lost its colour. Life was not easy. I would often play in my room, when I would notice the thunder of the spitfires going off to No Man's Land, I loved planes but not these types, they just frightened me, like they frightened the world.

During tea Mama and I would stare out of the window and over the hill, both wishing the same thing, not speaking, just thinking. It was on that day it happened, we were both busy when the red official’s car came down the lane and over the hill. Suddenly that cookie I was eating, my first in what felt like forever, was tasteless. The man was heavily decorated with medals, wearing a green tie and perfectly polished shoes. I could already see the bitter pale look that struck Mama’s face. The knocks were like shots at the door. Mama reluctantly opened it, he handed her a letter on the front written in bold M.I.A, Mama was already on her knees drowning in tears, that’s when he handed her the second one, K.I.A.
“I’m so sorry”

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