Letters from Blake

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Bliss, Summer and Lilia live with their Mother in a small flat. It is 1941, and their Father has been sent to war. They hope for the best, but sadly he is killed. Suffering from depression, their Mother abandoned them, wandering off somewhere unknown. As the oldest, Bliss leads Summer and Lilia to where she hopes is safety; the countryside. They stumble upon a farm, where Bliss falls for the Farmer's son, Blake. But then Blake is needed for war too. He writes regularly, until they suddenly stop. And they get a telegraph saying that Blake in missing. Devastated, Bliss fears there is little left to live for. A letter suddenly comes to say that Blake may still be alive, but he is still missing. Bliss then devotes her life to working on the farm, where she meets someone unexpected.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Letters from Blake

Submitted: January 05, 2013

Reads: 202

Comments: 3

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Submitted: January 05, 2013



I loved three things more than anything in the world. Two of them I had great reason for loving, but one was by choice. Summer was nine, and I loved her unconditionally, as well as Lillia, two. They were both my sisters, and I had nothing else to love; that would love me back, at least. My Mother was the last thing. But recently, her eyes had become deep, vacant holes that stared into the far distance. Her lips were chapped, and her nose ran constantly. She was becoming an invalid, unable to feed and water herself, let alone walk without assistance. That was what had come as a surprise to us. I took Summer and Lillia for a walk, and we came back to an empty house. All of Mother's possessions had gone.

"She's gone!" Summer cried, sitting on our bed. "She will be back, won't she?"

"I don't know, Summer. I just don't know." I whispered softly to her, pulling her onto my lap.

"Bliss, can you get her back? Where are we going to live?"

"I don't know where she is. And we can't stay here, either.”  Summer looked quizzical, but didn’t question further. “You need to get your belongings. Quickly, too.”

“Why? Are we going?” She asked, tears spilling through her long eyelashes.

“Yes, I need to take you to safety. We’ll go to the underground.” I decided, not quite sure how a fourteen year old could get two children to safety, as well as all their luggage. I gently pushed Summer back onto the bed, and picked up Lillia, despite her attempts to wriggle free. “We need to go, Lillia.” I whispered, looking into her brown eyes.

“No, I staying. You go!” She argued defiantly.

“You must come, Lillia. What if you got hurt? Summer is coming.” I attempted to persuade her.

“Fine.” She folded her arms, glaring as if she had been wounded.

“You must pack your toys, clothes, everything you own must be in your suitcase.” I instructed. We didn’t own a lot, just a few sets of clothes, small wooden toys, and a precious soft teddy. We then had to share a thick blanket and two pillows. Life was unfortunate for us. We were all packed up in a matter of hours, and we said goodbye to our home. Leading them down various roads with every belonging we had was hard work, and was even unbearable when Lillia eventually grew tired. Luckily, I had bought her pram, so I sat her in it and put the three bags underneath on the small ledge.

“Hurry!” I screamed, holding on to Summer’s hand and pushing the pram down the steps. My endurance and authority was swiftly wearing away as I feared for the worst; Summer and Lillia getting hurt, even killed. Panic filled the streets behind us as many people flocked to the underground. It was the safe place, after all. We pushed through various people as we tried to board the train. Just as we began to think that Germans would stop showering us with bombs, we were wrong. We followed the voice of a woman yelling. “Children and pregnant women to board the train first!”

“What’s the price?” I asked her.

“Nothing. This is for your safety.” She replied, pushing us into the train. We couldn’t believe our luck; we had got seats, and for free. Any other day would have been a great price indeed, possibly more funds that we had. “Bliss, what if Mother comes back? We won’t be there.” Summer queried. I couldn’t admit that she might not make it home, if she had been out for so long in the cold.

“I don’t know.” I whispered in her ear. Summer would usually press on about how we shouldn’t have left. But instead, she said something that quite surprised me. “Thank you, Bliss.” She smiled. “For taking us away, I mean. We could have been killed if you hadn’t thought as quickly as you did.”

She spied tears forming in my eyes and anxiously bit her lip. “Why are you crying?” She murmured.

“Because you’re the best sister I could hope for, Summer.” I replied, squeezing her hand and letting the tears plummet down my cheeks. I’ll get us through this, I declared to myself. I know I can.

© Copyright 2017 Sophie Turner. All rights reserved.


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