At War: Part 1

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AT WAR PART 1
BY RYAN HILL

The streets of London were full of anger, hate and devastation. The blood poured across the roads were the soldiers stepped with their dark hatred. For what had been started could not be ended.

Alan stepped into the kitchen with a spoon cluched in his hand. He attended the stove and knelt down and opened the cupboard beneath the oven, He gripped a small cooking pan and pulled it out. Alan was a decent boy. His hair sat on one side of his forehead, and his eyes were crystal blue. He wore red straps and thick black trousers.
He always thought of being a soldier and saving his country, And being a hero that everyone needed. But he knew he wasn't going to get the position, he wasn't meant for it. He was too skinny, not intelligent nor skilled for it. Alan's mother lay on the warm sofa, with a rose blanket wrapped around her. Alan's mother was very ill. She couldn't get up, so Alan did all the cooking, cleaning and looking-after as he was the oldest of the kids. Alan was 17, his brother Ben was 15 and Sister Lucy was 12. Alan's father had died in war a couple of weeks ago, it affected him as he loved his father, he always wanted to follow his steps and impress him. But he knew that couldn't happen now, and it teared his heart apart. Since then his mother was ill, The doctors didn't know what caused or what the illness was, They just said it was a high fever or tiredness.

Alan fed his mother. He scooped a spoonful of rice and put it in his mother's mouth slowly. Several loud bangs bombarded outside, they shattered Alan's ears and countinued for 3 minutes. Alan adjusted his palm on his mother's forehead, "You'll get better soon mother" he said. His brother and sister ran downstairs and slammed opened the door.
"Alan! Soldiers!" Ben shouted. Alan ran in the kitchen, opened the top cupboard, got out the large cutting knife and ran back towards the door corridor. He very slowly walked towards the door, with the knife gripped firmly in his hands. His body was shivering and he had to take drastic action if the soldiers got in. His brother and sister stood a meter or two behind him with there heads popped out through the corner of the hallway. The house was small. Everything was messy and random objects were clattered everywhere, it was like a farmhouse.

Shouting and screaming could be heard outside. People were shouting "HELP!", but Alan knew no help was coming. The screaming stopped and Alan put down his knife in relief. "There gone." He said calmly. Ben and Lucy sighed in relief. The three walked back to the living room and comfartably sat down on the sofa. The TV started to adjust itself and recovered. Winston Churchill was giving a new speech.
"I wonder what he's going to say now" said Ben.
"I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty..." The speech carried on for a short time and it finished. The TV started to blur again and lost signal.
"Well, that's the end of it, then!" Lucy said. "Come on, let's go to sleep now, it's getting late." Alan said as he got up. He walked to his mother and kissed her on the forehead, His lips were invaded with the loving warmth and then they lost it.
"Goodnight, mum" He said. He walked upstairs with his brother and sister, and went into the last room down the corridor. He slammed down the thick plain black blinds,
"We don't want them to see us, do we?" Alan said as he slid a blind. The other two got into their beds and pulled there blankets on. "Goodnight" Alan said, he switched off the light and walked into the second room down the corridor. He switched the light off and got into his bed and asked himself "Why does it have to be like this?" He thought about that question for a few minutes but then forgot about it and fell to sleep.

Alan woke up and slowly got out of his bed. His head was weasy and his hands felt num. He streched his arm and yawned. He walked to the blind and slide it open. The daylight hit his eye and and glimmered in his face. Alam smilied in joy. All of a sudden a massive bang on the door shook Alan. He ran downstairs and slowly unlocked the door and opened it. There were two soldiers standing, they both were wearing an army green suit, wellington boots and there had a carbine rifle strapped to their back. Their faces were wrinkly yet they didn't look that old. About 30-40 to guess.
"Yes?" Alan asked.
"Son, are you over 17?" The man on the left replied.
"Yes, well I am 17" Alan answered.
"Well, you see we are looking for some young men to join the army. Would you be interested?" Alan paused, he knew this was the moment, the moment that he was dreaming of. To serve his country and be a hero. But then he thought again, that if he done it he would have to leave his family. His mind turned and twisted. Was he ready yet, or not?...

To be continued...