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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

Lost Girl

By Emma De Carteret, year 8, St Sampson’s School

It was 2pm. My mother and I were talking about father, how he was doing what’s right, how he loves us very much. Father is amazing. He always cheers me up, he always makes me happy but he made me sad... he left. Mother said he would be back in a day but I… I didn’t believe her.



The clock struck 3pm, tick tock. I was outside in my garden, playing in the grass, when I heard a BANG. “Anna, oh Anna come inside!” yelled mother in a tone of panic. As I entered the house mother explained to me that father was coming home, but not for the right reason. Mother was having a panic moment, she was rampaging round the house like a bothered baboon. “Mother” I said “Why is father coming home early?” 
“Darling, we are getting bombed.” 
My face went from confused to scared to sad. My emotions were building up inside of me. I was a ticking time bomb, seconds away from exploding.



The clock struck 4pm, I could hear the shouting of soldiers, the explosions. “Darling, I love you!” came a voice from the house: it was mother. A gunshot, a scream, death. I could see mother's head tilted to the side. I could see her poor, pale face oozing out with blood. It was a sight that my brain would imprison forever.


The clock struck 5pm, the sky was darkening above the creepy corpses. Silence, silence and more silence. Cautiously I trudged through the field, remembering mother's smile, remembering her kindness. I heard a repetitive squelch of mud, almost like footsteps; a man came up to me “Anna, I have found you!” I ran straight into his arms, knowing I would be safe again. A few tears shed as I told him about mother.

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