Paper Hearts

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

I was awoken at god knows what time in the morning by those stupid sirens again. I dragged myself out of bed, shoved my numb feet into my wellies, grabbed my emergency bag and headed to the bunker at the bottom of the garden. I had barely reached the stairs when the first explosion rattled the windowpanes, causing a vase and its contents of roses crashing to the ground. I sighed, I liked that vase.

I was awoken at god knows what time in the morning by those stupid sirens again. I dragged myself out of bed, shoved my numb feet into my wellies, grabbed my emergency bag and headed to the bunker at the bottom of the garden. I had barely reached the stairs when the first explosion rattled the windowpanes, causing a vase and its contents of roses crashing to the ground. I sighed, I liked that vase. I made it down the stairs and to the backdoor.  I faint smell of smoke lingered in the air and I wondered which poor unfortunate souls house had gone up this time.

 I hurried down the steps and into the garden, tripping over a hanging basket that lay crumpled on the floor. That’s funny, I thought, we don’t own a hanging basket.  Shrugging my shoulders, I stumbled on. We only have a small garden but when its pitch black, freezing cold and God knows what time in the morning, it can feel like miles.

I eventually reached the bunker and threw myself inside, thanks to another scarily close explosion. As I wrapped my emergency blanket around my shoulders, I opened my emergency flask and took a swig. Its funny how everything inside that bag is addressed as an emergency supply, normal things suddenly become vitally important simply because they are classed as an emergency item. I jumped as a huge blast suddenly echoed through the neighbourhood. Technology has advanced heaps since the 1940’s but the bunkers are still not sound proof.

It’s at this point that I would cuddle up to Will and he would cover my ears with his huge man hands and comfort me in a way that only Will can. He never said anything, but his mere presence has a calming effect on me. Weird.

I love Will to the end of the earth and back, that damn army. They took him from me on my birthday. They just turned up and said ‘’right lad, wars on the way. You’re over 17, get in the van.’ None of this sign up if you feel like it, like in the olden days.  I miss him. I haven’t heard anything since he write to say he would be sent up in the first wave. I hope he is ok. Typical, you get engaged and war breaks out.

I remember it like it was yesterday. He took me for a nice meal. He walked me home. I couldn’t find my keys and he said he had them. Instead of my keys, he pulled out a ring. Got down on one knee and everything. I said yes of course.

As I thought back, I absent mindedly twisted the ring round my finger with my thumb. It was a beautiful ring, a single diamond was surrounded by several smaller ones. On the inside there was engraved Will You Marry Me? WB. Will. His name echoed round my head. My thoughts were rudely interrupted by a loud boom. Probably next door- Poor Mrs. Thatchwright, she is 78 years old and still thinks the war is Hitler’s doing. The last boom was that loud, my emergency cup of emergency tea crashed to the ground. As I refilled my cup, I glanced at the clock that was propped up in the corner. It was hung on a nail by the door but the earthshaking caused by the bombs caused it to fly off violently, so eventually I gave up, got very cross with it and shoved it in a corner where it now rests. It read 3.36am.

I think of my house, my bedroom and my bed. I think of all those nights me and Will spent, unaware of the time, wrapped in each other’s arms, just talking. He could tell some amazing stories and I would gaze into his big brown eyes and wondered which God answered my prayers for the perfect guy. He was perfect, gorgeous eyes, slightly muscular with a mop of dark brown hair. I always felt safe around him, always.

My eyelids suddenly felt extremely heavy. I wrapped myself in yet another blanket and settled down to sleep, Will at the front of my mind. 


Submitted: December 24, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Lucy Westmacott. All rights reserved.

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