Screams. Blood-curdling screams. They tore ruthlessly through the air as all hell broke loose.
Unconscious bodies littered the tumultuous streets of Liverpool, slumped against the cold cobblestones, still and silent amidst the frenzied maelstrom. The red-hot pain burned through my legs, creating an arduous inferno of hurt that gnawed at the tender flesh.
I took Laura’s hand as my eyes darted from side to side frantically. Before I knew it, the ear-splitting sound of the air raid struck once again.
“Grandpa! Grandpa!” I jolted awake, my checkered shirt clinging to my clammy back, an unpleasant occurrence I knew all too well.
I stared back at Lisa, her honest hazel eyes peering at my trembling frame with deep concern. She squeezed my arm in a warm gesture of affection that rivalled the comfort of curling up in a soft blanket on a winter’s night.
“Grandpa, you’re shaking again,” she pointed out, her all-knowing gaze assessing my fretful expression.
“You worry a lot for a 10-year-old, Lisa. Grandpa is just taking a short nap,” I chuckled nervously before dozing off again in the mahogany rocking chair.
I wheezed and coughed in the thick, intoxicating smoke, covering my mouth with a silk handkerchief. My ears rang from the lingering aftermath of the explosion; the deafening noise still pounded in my head.
I found myself collapsed over serrated shards of glass and winced as I saw a shard pierced deep into my leg, digging into the bleeding flesh. Gradually, I pulled out the razor-sharp fragment, biting the inside of my cheek until it bled in response to the excruciating agony. An alarming realisation soon stabbed at my stomach like an admiral’s longsword as I looked to my side – Laura was gone.
“Grandpa,” Lisa shook my shoulder gently, interrupting my nightmarish thoughts.
“You’re scaring me.”
“Everything is all right,” I coaxed her gently, patting her soft tufts of raven-black hair to ease her mind. “Now, please let Grandpa sleep.”
“Laura? Laura!” I shrieked as I scrambled through the rubble with my sore, blunt fingernails, brushing away the dust.
A familiar face peeked through the cement, her glazed-over eyes boring into my sombre soul.
“It couldn’t be,” I thought to myself, attempting to shake off my distressing denial before lifting the cadaver from the ruins.
Yet it was her. It was unmistakably my dear sister. Except everything was gone. Gone was the childish smile I had adored, gone was the mischievous glint in her eyes, and gone was the youthful blush in her cheeks. There, in her place, was a hollow husk of a corpse – an alabaster vessel that once housed a soul.
I cradled her frail, icy-cold body, as pale as a white lily, rocking to and fro, salty rivers flowing down my cheeks.
“Laura, I’m so sorry,” I howled and sniffled uncontrollably.
“Grandpa!” Lisa tugged on my sleeve, gripping the fabric tightly as I stirred from my sleep. “Please, don’t act tough in front of me. You can cry.”
I pulled Lisa in and hugged her in a soothing embrace, teardrops forming in my eyes, moved by the kindness of my granddaughter.
“I know you’re crying because of Laura. She’s your dead sister, isn’t she?” Lisa queried, tilting her head curiously.
“Yes, Laura passed away during the Blitz when she was eight,” I answered mournfully.
“How do you know that, Lisa?”
“You’ve said her name a couple of times before in your sleep,” Lisa whispered, wiping my tears away with a spotted handkerchief. “You must love her a lot.”
“Yes, I adored her with all of my heart.”
“Grandpa, it’s not good to dwell on the past,” Lisa uttered wisely, like an oracle of truth.
“Lisa is right,” I said to myself. “I shouldn’t do this. Laura wouldn’t want that.”
I looked up at Lisa once again and nodded at her sage words. My past regrets slowly washed away in a tide of bittersweet memories of my dear sister.
I fondly remembered her sweet grin, the impish twinkle in her eyes, and her rosy cheeks.
The weight of the world seemed to lift off my shoulders as her warmth served as a reminder that I was never alone.
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