My short stories

Story 16

"No," he said to me, grabbing my hand again. "Wendy we have to leave now!" He pulled me away from my puppy. I open my mouth and protested but he didn't hear me due to the bomb planes over head. "Hurry!" He takes me across the street. There we hid being crates for a jeep full of soldiers to go by.

"I wish we weren't illegal." I tell him, once we stand and run down the street.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he pulls me behind a parked car.

"What reasoning do you have for that?" I asked, slightly irritated with his answer.

We followed the street lights. Now it was mostly clear we'd his every so often though.

"Because... If we weren't illegal, I would have never met you," he smiles back at me, as we walk into the forest. I smile back. 

"Oh... Well. I wish we weren't illegal and we still knew each other."

He laughed, "the best of both worlds."

I laughed with him. 

We arrived at the camp now. The other boys ran up to us. 

"What happened?"

"Where's the food?"

"Where's the dog?"

And other questions were thrown at us.

"Shhhh!!!" Peter puts a finger to his lips. "Just because we're in the forest doesn't mean we're inaudible," he stomps to the log next to the fire.

They boys looked at me for further explanation. "Inaudible means that you can't hear them... Basically he's saying to stay quiet, boys." I finish with a nod.

"Oh..." They say.

"Where's the food, Wendy?" The chubbiest boy asked. 

I have an apologetic look on my face, "the shop was closed,"

"What about the puppy; you said if we get a puppy we can train her to save us?" The two identical twins responded.

"She was already dead..." I said quietly.

"It's not like it matters," the quietest boy spoke up, "we're all going to die anyways."

I shook my head, "No, we're going to escape." I smile reassuringly. "I promise... It's late. Why don't you boys go to bed... Father and I are going to talk." 

I wasn't their real mother and he wasn't the actual Father but I was the only girl, at age fifteen, and Peter was the oldest boy, at age sixteen, and the leader of the group. The Boys agreed and went to their little tents we made out of big leaves and sticks.

I sat next to him on the log, resting my hand on his knee. 

"Peter..." I look at him. "What's upset you, dear?" 

He didn't say anything. He grabbed my hand and held it in both of his. He sighed. I leaned my head on his shoulder. 

"What are we going to do?"

Peter took my hand and put it by his neck, he grabbed my other and did the same. I grab my hands behind his neck. He puts his hands on my waist and pushes me. I stand and sit on his lap. 

"Wendy..." He says quietly, resting his head against mine.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm in love with you,"

My stomach filled with butterflies. "R-really?" 

He nods, allowing a small smile to works it's way onto his face, "Yeah,"