It feels like I am watching the whole world tear down, everyone in London hiding with fear and frustration trying to survive.
As I am watching people suffer and die falling to the floor with blood flowing like a stream out of their body, I am trying to find my Aunt Miriam. I don’t know whether she is alive or dead, captured or executed by the Germans, everything is just going wrong I am all alone in this big place that looks like a train wreck. Bombs flying down like a plane about to crash and people running around like little ants when humans try to squish them into little tiny watery bits of black pieces.
I have worn the same clothes for almost 2 days, people that I go past look so emaciated. I feel my skin going tight with blood that is slowly drying on my skin and clothes. I can still feel the guilt of not being able to help her as she was bleeding. She felt cold and looked as pale as a ghost, her lips as blue as the sky, and her eyes looking as black as night. I am walking through this fog of speckled dust, people screaming for help and weeping as I walk past. I feel like giving up, but I know I have to be strong for my family.