Write Stuff

Primary. Years 3/4/5/6

Highly Commended in the primary category

Eine Feurige Nacht

By Bo Bennalick, year 6, Vauvert School

I stirred the embers in the fire, sparks flying out of it like imps jumping over the rocky wall of hell. It was freezing without the heating on, as our cottage is drafty and gets quite cold in the winter, so having a fire with a maximum of five coals doesn’t really make a difference. “Come on Adalynn, I called you for dinner ten minutes ago” Mum said in that tone of voice that said “come for dinner now, or else.” I jumped up and pulled up my chair at the table. “Dad would have bought it to me” I said daringly. I love my Dad. Although now he’s away working for Mr Hitler to win the war. “Just eat your dinner and shut up about your father.” She sniffed as if he was dead. Maybe he already was. He hasn’t written for weeks now.
After I had finished my basic rations of maize and beans I went to bed in anger. I was always angry with mum; for everything. I stared out of my small window at the stars overhead, the moon commodious and bright. Then I saw it fly across the icy white moon. A plane, one I had never seen before, visibly green in the moon light and coming towards our house.
Before I knew it a large ovate object fell from the aeroplane, whistling as it went. A bomb. An actual bomb. The British had never bombed our little town before, but there wasn’t any time to dither. I had to tell mum. I ran into her room, shouting the words “Bomb! Bomb!” Mum stared at me like I was mad. “Run. Adalynn, GET OUT OF HERE!!!” Mum untangled herself from her duvet, but I couldn’t run. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t hear.

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