JessKar
03-13-2010, 08:03 AM
Thousands of children and their parents stood at the platform nervously, some crying others being brave. Sally stared around dazed and claustrophobic. With the air thick and warm like soup and no breeze coming she felt totally suffocated. Since she was only small it was impossible for her to see over the crowd.
“Be brave, ma sweet,” her Mother sniffed, handing over a small paper bag while giving her daughter a watery smile. Sally kissed her mother on the cheek for comfort. A single tear ran down her mother’s lightly powdered face making Sally feel very alone for one of the first times in her young life.
Suddenly everyone stopped chatting and shuffling around and the children were all shoved to the front of the crowd into a crooked single file line as the scarlet train drew into the station. Sally beamed, which looked odd as she was missing her front two teeth. As the train crawled past her, dragging the unseasonable cold, spring air in behind it, the wind blew her messy ringlets in front of her face blocking her sight. Hastily brushing the curls out of her way her excitement grew, she’d never been on a train before!
As soon as the train stopped everyone was ushered on the moment the doors flung open. Quickly, all the children scrambled onto the train. Several people pushed in front of Sally because they were a lot older and brawny than her. She ended up in one of the last carriages but she didn’t mind and sat down in the last empty seat, ignoring the other people in the carriage.
Peering into the bag her mother had packed carefully that morning she smiled as she spotted the bag of sweets mother had put in there as a special treat. She took out the white paper bag and popped a sweet into her mouth. There wasn’t much else in the bag, only her hairbrush, winter coat, wellingtons, toothbrush, her Sunday best and Floppy, her favourite teddy bear. Looking at Floppy made her slightly nostalgic since it reminded her that she had to leave her dolly at home that Daddy had bought her earlier in the month for her birthday. However much she begged her mother she wouldn’t allow her to bring her dolly. She already missed her home.
She stared out the window, over the crowd to mother who was waving furiously with Tommy under the other arm. Tommy, her younger brother was too young to come with Sally. She envied him slightly for that.
The train hissed then jolted forward with a start and began slowly chugging along, gradually escaping the station and into the unknown countryside while long fingers of sunlight poked through. Sally waved vigorously back until the platform was well out of sight. Her stomach knotted because now she was all alone in the carriage, without her mother; it made everything seem a lot more real. Out of the window all she saw were rolling hills instead of the tall cityscape of London that she was so used to. She had a feeling she wouldn’t see it for a while. Her body felt uncomfortable in the seat so she clung to Floppy for comfort instead.
Hours past and the sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach had dulled but not ceased. She didn’t even know where she was going! When she had tried to ask mother in the morning her only reply was ‘Out of the way of the bombs’ but her Mother was very flustered at the time. The view hadn’t changed for hours and Sally was getting bored. Suddenly the train came to a gradual stop. Sighing, it halted at the platform. Sally picked up her bag, plastered on a happy facial expression and exited the carriage. The billeting officer stood at the front of the queue of children, which was soundless with the exception of the odd whisper. The officer walked briskly so it was hard to keep up
From the train the children were all marched through the village. There were lots of residents in the street staring curiously at them. Sally felt like an unwanted parcel with a tag around her neck so she kept her gaze down so she didn’t meet the eye of any of the villagers. Looking around the streets Sally realised how small the village was! The houses were all the same shade of cream with painted doors in a variety of vibrant colours and black, thatched roofs. Sally was taken aback by the differences between London and the tiny village. As she stood at the bottom of the road she could see from one end of the village to the other. There was a small post office and the green grocers on one side of the road and a curious, tiny shop with ancient looking toys in the window on the other. She looked forward to exploring the toy shop. The spire of the church was peering over the grand house at the end. The small church-hall was just beside it. Inside the hall everyone was filed in and ordered to stand in rows. Sally felt as though she was going to be sick any minute but tried to carry on smiling regardless.
The first few people had come and gone picking their evacuee by pointing and saying ‘that one’. Sally noticed that they all had very prim voices compared to the cockney she was used to.
There were about half of the children left when Mrs James entered the room. Her long, thin face framed her sullen expression and her pointed nose creased up like she had just caught the smell of manure. Fine, grey hair sat limply at her shoulders and nobody dared to move.
“That one,” she sneered pointing her spidery finger at Sally. Sally’s heart sunk slightly; she didn’t like the look of the woman but obediently followed quietly behind out the door. As soon as they had departed the church hall Sally began to speak, so that she made the right impression.
“Allo,” she smiled falsely, hoping it looked more genuine that it felt, “My name’s Sal, what’s yours?”
“Don’t they teach you to speak in London?” she snapped in a shrill voice, “And it’s Mrs James to you.” Sally’s face fell. She didn’t speak another word on the way to Mrs James’ house but followed, dragging her feet behind her. When they reached Mrs James’ cottage Sally was pushed through the door into the
house. Stumbling, she hovered in front of the aga.
“You can put your stuff here,” Mrs James snarled, curling her lip before opening the door to an empty, cold room with a tiled floor, in which sat only a thin mattress on the floor. “It’s where you’ll be sleeping.” Sally said nothing in fear of saying something wrong and put her bag down.
“Since you are staying in my house you will live by my rules,” Mrs James began, “Everyday you will get up before school to clean the silver and do the washing. When you arrive home you will cook us both tea, do the shopping and then the dusting plus any additional chores I wish you to do. I will have no misbehaving, no slacking and no bad behaviour. Understood?” She spat venom into every word. Sally was stunned. Too scared to move. Too upset to speak.
“Well?” Mrs James looked shocked, “What are you waiting for?! You can start preparing tea.” She settled into her armchair while Sally walked into the kitchen, defeated.
As weeks turned into months Sally became more and more dejected. Every day Mrs James would wake Sally up by banging a wooden spoon and a pan together. She would wait hand and foot on her not daring to complain for fear of a beating. Her only break was at Sunday mass where she would pray and pray that her Mother would come and collect her. She decided that she would write to her so maybe she would be saved. Taking a spare piece of crumpled paper to write on and a pen she found while tidying last night after Mrs James had gone to bed she began to write.
Dear Mother,
Please take me home. I am so sad and lonely here. The woman looking after me doesn’t let me out and makes me wait on her like a slave. I want to be back in London with you and Tommy even if it does mean I’m closer to the bombs
All my love,
Sal x
She carefully printed her address onto the front of a discarded envelope and closed the top up. Cautiously, Sally walked up to Mrs James clutching the letter.
“Mrs James,” she mumbled.
“What?” Mrs James snapped.
“May I post this? It’s a letter to me ma’ I wanted to tell ‘er...tell ‘er... how I was gettin’ on,” she stumbled.
“Give it here, I will read it then possibly you can, after you do the cleaning,” she said attempting to snatch the letter but Sally pulled it back.
“Child,” She began with irritation, “I said give it here.” Mrs James snatched for the letter again but Sally pulled it out her grasp.
“NO!” she screamed before she realised what she was doing. She pulled back slightly in horror of what she had done. Mrs James slapped her hard across the face leaving a raw red mark in its place. Sally starred in shock, a single tear falling down her face. She paused, stepping away from Mrs James but making no noise.
“I’ll make tea,” Sally said emotionlessly then she walked into the kitchen. Several hours past and neither one of them spoke.
Mrs James had left, to go bed, leaving Sally with a list of chores to do. Once Mrs James had gone Sally began to cry long, hard sobs which she could only muffle with her hands. Quickly but silently she walked over to her room and collected her things, picking up the letter last. Walking down the hall she took one last look at the prison she had lived in for the past few months. Slipping out of the door she shut it as quietly as she could and began to run down the empty, cobbled street. Out of the village. Away from Mrs James. As far away as possible. Tears streamed down her face in the midnight air.
Does anyone have a more orginal title :P Or do you think its okay? I wrote this as an essay at school so I just wanted some feed back for it. I've only just started writing really, so any comments would be great!
Thanks :)
“Be brave, ma sweet,” her Mother sniffed, handing over a small paper bag while giving her daughter a watery smile. Sally kissed her mother on the cheek for comfort. A single tear ran down her mother’s lightly powdered face making Sally feel very alone for one of the first times in her young life.
Suddenly everyone stopped chatting and shuffling around and the children were all shoved to the front of the crowd into a crooked single file line as the scarlet train drew into the station. Sally beamed, which looked odd as she was missing her front two teeth. As the train crawled past her, dragging the unseasonable cold, spring air in behind it, the wind blew her messy ringlets in front of her face blocking her sight. Hastily brushing the curls out of her way her excitement grew, she’d never been on a train before!
As soon as the train stopped everyone was ushered on the moment the doors flung open. Quickly, all the children scrambled onto the train. Several people pushed in front of Sally because they were a lot older and brawny than her. She ended up in one of the last carriages but she didn’t mind and sat down in the last empty seat, ignoring the other people in the carriage.
Peering into the bag her mother had packed carefully that morning she smiled as she spotted the bag of sweets mother had put in there as a special treat. She took out the white paper bag and popped a sweet into her mouth. There wasn’t much else in the bag, only her hairbrush, winter coat, wellingtons, toothbrush, her Sunday best and Floppy, her favourite teddy bear. Looking at Floppy made her slightly nostalgic since it reminded her that she had to leave her dolly at home that Daddy had bought her earlier in the month for her birthday. However much she begged her mother she wouldn’t allow her to bring her dolly. She already missed her home.
She stared out the window, over the crowd to mother who was waving furiously with Tommy under the other arm. Tommy, her younger brother was too young to come with Sally. She envied him slightly for that.
The train hissed then jolted forward with a start and began slowly chugging along, gradually escaping the station and into the unknown countryside while long fingers of sunlight poked through. Sally waved vigorously back until the platform was well out of sight. Her stomach knotted because now she was all alone in the carriage, without her mother; it made everything seem a lot more real. Out of the window all she saw were rolling hills instead of the tall cityscape of London that she was so used to. She had a feeling she wouldn’t see it for a while. Her body felt uncomfortable in the seat so she clung to Floppy for comfort instead.
Hours past and the sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach had dulled but not ceased. She didn’t even know where she was going! When she had tried to ask mother in the morning her only reply was ‘Out of the way of the bombs’ but her Mother was very flustered at the time. The view hadn’t changed for hours and Sally was getting bored. Suddenly the train came to a gradual stop. Sighing, it halted at the platform. Sally picked up her bag, plastered on a happy facial expression and exited the carriage. The billeting officer stood at the front of the queue of children, which was soundless with the exception of the odd whisper. The officer walked briskly so it was hard to keep up
From the train the children were all marched through the village. There were lots of residents in the street staring curiously at them. Sally felt like an unwanted parcel with a tag around her neck so she kept her gaze down so she didn’t meet the eye of any of the villagers. Looking around the streets Sally realised how small the village was! The houses were all the same shade of cream with painted doors in a variety of vibrant colours and black, thatched roofs. Sally was taken aback by the differences between London and the tiny village. As she stood at the bottom of the road she could see from one end of the village to the other. There was a small post office and the green grocers on one side of the road and a curious, tiny shop with ancient looking toys in the window on the other. She looked forward to exploring the toy shop. The spire of the church was peering over the grand house at the end. The small church-hall was just beside it. Inside the hall everyone was filed in and ordered to stand in rows. Sally felt as though she was going to be sick any minute but tried to carry on smiling regardless.
The first few people had come and gone picking their evacuee by pointing and saying ‘that one’. Sally noticed that they all had very prim voices compared to the cockney she was used to.
There were about half of the children left when Mrs James entered the room. Her long, thin face framed her sullen expression and her pointed nose creased up like she had just caught the smell of manure. Fine, grey hair sat limply at her shoulders and nobody dared to move.
“That one,” she sneered pointing her spidery finger at Sally. Sally’s heart sunk slightly; she didn’t like the look of the woman but obediently followed quietly behind out the door. As soon as they had departed the church hall Sally began to speak, so that she made the right impression.
“Allo,” she smiled falsely, hoping it looked more genuine that it felt, “My name’s Sal, what’s yours?”
“Don’t they teach you to speak in London?” she snapped in a shrill voice, “And it’s Mrs James to you.” Sally’s face fell. She didn’t speak another word on the way to Mrs James’ house but followed, dragging her feet behind her. When they reached Mrs James’ cottage Sally was pushed through the door into the
house. Stumbling, she hovered in front of the aga.
“You can put your stuff here,” Mrs James snarled, curling her lip before opening the door to an empty, cold room with a tiled floor, in which sat only a thin mattress on the floor. “It’s where you’ll be sleeping.” Sally said nothing in fear of saying something wrong and put her bag down.
“Since you are staying in my house you will live by my rules,” Mrs James began, “Everyday you will get up before school to clean the silver and do the washing. When you arrive home you will cook us both tea, do the shopping and then the dusting plus any additional chores I wish you to do. I will have no misbehaving, no slacking and no bad behaviour. Understood?” She spat venom into every word. Sally was stunned. Too scared to move. Too upset to speak.
“Well?” Mrs James looked shocked, “What are you waiting for?! You can start preparing tea.” She settled into her armchair while Sally walked into the kitchen, defeated.
As weeks turned into months Sally became more and more dejected. Every day Mrs James would wake Sally up by banging a wooden spoon and a pan together. She would wait hand and foot on her not daring to complain for fear of a beating. Her only break was at Sunday mass where she would pray and pray that her Mother would come and collect her. She decided that she would write to her so maybe she would be saved. Taking a spare piece of crumpled paper to write on and a pen she found while tidying last night after Mrs James had gone to bed she began to write.
Dear Mother,
Please take me home. I am so sad and lonely here. The woman looking after me doesn’t let me out and makes me wait on her like a slave. I want to be back in London with you and Tommy even if it does mean I’m closer to the bombs
All my love,
Sal x
She carefully printed her address onto the front of a discarded envelope and closed the top up. Cautiously, Sally walked up to Mrs James clutching the letter.
“Mrs James,” she mumbled.
“What?” Mrs James snapped.
“May I post this? It’s a letter to me ma’ I wanted to tell ‘er...tell ‘er... how I was gettin’ on,” she stumbled.
“Give it here, I will read it then possibly you can, after you do the cleaning,” she said attempting to snatch the letter but Sally pulled it back.
“Child,” She began with irritation, “I said give it here.” Mrs James snatched for the letter again but Sally pulled it out her grasp.
“NO!” she screamed before she realised what she was doing. She pulled back slightly in horror of what she had done. Mrs James slapped her hard across the face leaving a raw red mark in its place. Sally starred in shock, a single tear falling down her face. She paused, stepping away from Mrs James but making no noise.
“I’ll make tea,” Sally said emotionlessly then she walked into the kitchen. Several hours past and neither one of them spoke.
Mrs James had left, to go bed, leaving Sally with a list of chores to do. Once Mrs James had gone Sally began to cry long, hard sobs which she could only muffle with her hands. Quickly but silently she walked over to her room and collected her things, picking up the letter last. Walking down the hall she took one last look at the prison she had lived in for the past few months. Slipping out of the door she shut it as quietly as she could and began to run down the empty, cobbled street. Out of the village. Away from Mrs James. As far away as possible. Tears streamed down her face in the midnight air.
Does anyone have a more orginal title :P Or do you think its okay? I wrote this as an essay at school so I just wanted some feed back for it. I've only just started writing really, so any comments would be great!
Thanks :)