As I said during the day my mother and father went work, so my brother and I were left alone in our cupboard with very little to do. It was cold and damp we just had old dusty scraps of matted carpet to keep us warm. Under the stairs it was also very dark; streaks of light crept in through the cracks but very little. All we could really do was talk, sleep or play chess, when we wanted to play we would have to light a candle so that we could see; we were able to buy a new one every three or four weeks. At around lunchtime one of us would have to dash out and steal some stale bread from the kitchen along with a bowl of water which would keep us going for the afternoon and if needs be night as well.
It was the same when mother and father came home Michael and I still stayed under the cupboard; my father would tell us we’re stupid then he would start arguing with my mother over the silliest of things. Sometimes he would even hit my mother with his bare fist just because she would not agree with him. This often meant that for several nights in a row Michael and I would go with no supper. I suppose after a while our bodies got use to it and we would just cope and someday die. I was always afraid that he might hit us, like he did our mother; but to this day he never has.
Every night I remember my father drawing the curtains before it was even dark; plummeting the house into total darkness, apart from the sparse candles that lit the rooms. My mother told Michael and I that everybody had to do this; so that the Germans could see no light from the dark night sky to indicate to them were to drop their bombs. This period was called “The Blackout” when the German planes bombed major cities through the darkness of nightfall. Each night I would wake to noise of explosions; somewhere near by was being bombed, but never our neighborhood. Each morning the newspapers would be bombarded with stories from people all over the country.
One evening I recalled hearing shouting in the kitchen, from the shouting came the screaming and from that fell silence. Half an hour or so later Michael and I heard only one set of heavy footsteps going up the stairs, my fathers we presumed. I decided to sneak out and see if my mother was okay. As I left the cold cupboard I could hear nothing, the house lay in silence; I headed towards the closed kitchen door, I didn’t know what to do. I decided to open it, my mother lay there on the floor in a blood stained dress, not moving a muscle. I remember not being able to move or make a sound because I was so shocked. I tried to scream but nothing came out, I tried to run but my legs would not move. Eventually I could move I headed straight out the backdoor, I tried to open it quietly but it was so old and creaky; I could not stay in that house a second longer. Once out it was pitch black, the white moon projecting little light.
Our yard backed onto a quiet derelict street, littered with rubbish, and possessing an awful smell. I ran away from our house as far away as possible, I ran so far I did not know were I was when I stopped. It was quite a small road but lined with shops, there were many people fast asleep in nearly every shop door. As I had no intention of returning home that night I remember finding a vacant spot and pitching up for the night. I dropped straight off after that tiring run, after eating some vegetable scraps on the floor around me. Next morning I woke to the hustle and bustle of passers by; I remember feeling like I had slept for a whole month.
As I became aware of my surroundings I noticed that very few of the shops I had seen the previous night were actually open. People seemed to crowd round a single shop, I recollect deciding to go and have a look; the biggest mistake of my life. As I stumbled over in my oversize shoes people stared at me in disgust. I managed to hustle myself through the large crowd of agitated adults; I realized they were all queuing to purchase the mornings paper. I glanced over the papers with very little interest, until I reached the daily mail, when I let out the loudest scream and bought about utter silence. On the front page was a picture of what was once a row of houses, now a pile of rubble; the only thing left standing was the road sign, which read “Baker Street”. This meant that now my whole family lay dead under tons of rubble; the previous night I felt I wanted to be alone, but know I didn’t know what I wanted or what to do.