The bunker is dark. So dark, in fact, that I cannot see my hand in my lap. There are loud bangs coming from all directions. Some are quiet and distant while others are extremely loud and close.
I feel Jamie’s hand squeeze one of mine tighter as a particularly loud bomb goes off, shaking the bunker like an earthquake. I listen carefully for the sound of sirens, telling the people in bunkers that it was clear.
The year is 2021. My half sister, Jamie, and I live in London, England. Five years ago, China’s new leader, Jon Wang, tried to take political power, when the president of the U.S. thwarted his plans, Wang fired three nukes. One hit New York City, one hit Washington D.C., and the final hit Chicago. This took the Americans by surprise, so, naturally, they pleaded to their allies for help.
That is how my country got involved. England and France were the first to join them. Russia and Japan put their alliances with Wang. China rebelled against their new dictator’s hold, so to prove a point; he wiped out half of it. He had no further problems recruiting them. From there, Germany, Mexico, and Brazil joined him. Other smaller countries joined either side and the rest of the U.K. sided with England. Any countries that decided to try to be neutral were destroyed first.
Half my country has been destroyed, the other half decided to try and flee, including my parents. They abandoned Jamie with me and fled to Australia.
Australia was bombed exactly a week later.
It’s been three years since then and I have matured into a woman. I’m fourteen now, Jamie is twelve. We are only a few children that are homeless and stuck here in London.
Another bomb goes off, even closer than the last. Jamie instinctively covers her head and crouches lower to the dirt floor. I, however, do not move at all. I’ve survived bombs landing directly next to the bunker. This wasn’t anywhere near that bad.
Then there is silence. All I hear is Jamie’s uneven and heavy breathing. A loud sound starts ringing through the air and I release my pent up breath.
Jamie starts to sob in relief and I pull her into a hug. I wish I could cry with her, I am just as scared, but I need to have enough strength for the both of us.
I stand up, wiping smut and sweat off my pale face. I’m rather short for my age, but my ginger head is only an inch away from the roof.
There is banging on the door, “Lucy! Jamie! Are you in there?” A familiar voice asks.
“Yes.” I respond. My voice breaks halfway through the word from disuse.
The door swings open and we both see William, standing there, bending over so we could see his face, “Everyone alright?”
Jamie answers this time, “We could be better.”
“Why did the bombs stop so soon?” I suddenly realize that the ships should have been there for at least another two hours before leaving.
Will rakes off his hat and scratches his head. His golden curls crumple when he replaces it. Then he speaks, “I’m not really sure.”
I grab Jamie’s hand and pull her out of the bunker and into the house. There’s an old fashioned radio there from the 1900’s. I turn it on and listen carefully.
“It’s over. The war is finally over!” There is a pause. Tears start to run down my face and I squeeze little Jamie’s hand, reassuring her.
“Wang has won.” My heart misses a beat. We’ve lost? It really is the end? I don’t even feel Jamie’s hand drop or Will pull me into a hug. I’m just to shocked to speak.
“We lost…” I mutter after a moment.
“It doesn’t matter. The war will never truly end, because even if he won, people will still fight back. We can still fight.” William is right. I refuse to give up even if the war is over.
I will fight, and struggle, and die with a new cause. I will avenge the people who died, who were murdered, to save this world. I will fight for the martyrs, for the soldiers, and for all other children like me who never gave up hope.
That is how the rebellion was formed.
The End of the Beginning.