@chrcnonaut
It had become a regular event, the consecutive bombings, the German planes raining hell fire down on the city that he’d made his home. His mother shipped him off almost every chance she got, this happened to be one of those time frames. He can’t help but wonder if she see’s what’s occurring on the television & regrets sending him. A bitter corner of his mind hisses that she doesn’t anytime the concept arises. It’s difficult to put on a brave face when everyone around you is so terrified, even the adults with their forced, fleeting smiles were terrified. He could feel it, they didn’t believe their own words & assurances uttered unto the children of the school.
This was the first time it had occurred, he’s sure it won’t be the last. Residents of the very city he also occupied, pushed into the nearest----largest stable shelter that could house them all. It was chaotic, a few children had strayed from their beds, where they’d been demanded to stay. Him of course, being one of them, it was impossible to sleep with so many horrified voices in your head. Charles attempts to stand up straight, making himself just a bit taller than he normally was, jaw squared. Brace face in place, he feels almost ready to take on the entire situation alone. He makes no attempt to hide as he stares down a particular pair, a wounded woman & the nurse that’s helping her. She has kids, the woman on the bed, she’s in pain but all she can worry about is where her children are. A frown streaks across his face. “Do you need help?” He asks from a safe distance, ready to bolt should the adults in question order him back to his room.
