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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

My war diary

By Sophia Strappini, year 7, Grammar School

Dear diary,
London is always on my mind. Every night I stare out at the stars and wish. Wish for Mother, for home, for everything. Everything I had before I moved here. The vision of being pulled away from my mother haunts me at night. Me screaming, begging to say goodbye. Just one more time. Mother was waving frantically, waving as though she would never see me again. I tried to wave back, truly I did but it was as though my arms had frozen from disquietude so I shut my eyes. Praying, dreaming, pleading to be back at home. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I was stuck in a world of subjugate and sour reality and as hard as I tried, there was no escape.
I yearn for my mother, longing for her more and more as the days lull on. Now Mother's not with me I feel more lonely than ever. As if i'm stuck in a world where there's no colour, nor escape. Just a forlorn world of sorrow and darkness. A world where all my friends are far out of grasp. Whilst I'm stuck here in Wales, they will all be playing on our street without me. As I stare upon the strange streets through the strange window sitting on my strange bed I know I don't belong here. I try to write to Mother, begging longingly to come home. But whenever I try to post them, Mr. Williams snatches them out of my hands, holding them high out of my grasp and stacking them up on the mantelpiece.
I must go, Mr. Williams is calling me. This diary has strangely became a friend, and lights a flicker of hope inside of me that someday, I will leave this village and find my mother.

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