Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
3 September 1939
"So, it's real. Britain declared the war?"
"Yeah, it's true."
"And you have to fight in the war?"
"I have to flight hurricanes."
"Why can't they ask someone else to do it?"
"Because Mar, that someone else is also going to fight"
The youngest female member of the family rested her head on the shoulder of her older brother, staring with her light brown eyes at the flyers on the kitchen table
"It won't be long."
Jack stroked the blonde hairs out of her face and then rested his hand on her arm, brushing with his thumb over the sleeve of her woolen sweater. He could smell the scent of her perfume, the flowers filling up his nostrils.
"They've said that at the beginning of the first one, that lasted four years."
Mary glanced up in the eyes of her brother, the same tint of blue in his irises as their younger sibling. The three of them had the same color of blonde in their hair, but Mary was the only one with brown eyes, getting this feature from her mother.
"And Peter? Does he have to join the army?"
"Not yet, he's too young. The minimum age is 18," Jack explained to his sister, the worry in her voice growing more and more.
"Tommy's age?"
"I'm sorry, Mar, but he'll have to go as well."
The young girl sighed loudly and she closed her eyes shut, only seeing darkness and a soft light shining through her eyelashes. She held her lips in a pout and her eyebrows furrowed closer together. She felt sad, terrifying thoughts ghosting in her normally joyful mind.
"It will be fine, I promise you."
"I am going to miss you."
Jack closed his arms around his sister and held her in a strong embrace, his face resting in her neck and his hand held onto her clothes. Mary had her arms around his waist, her nose hidden in his muscular chest. She didn't want to cry, she told herself to enjoy the last moments with her older brother.
"Can I join?," the voice of Peter echoed in the living room, his figure leaning against the opening of the door. Jack motioned to him to come closer and then grabbed his brother's hand, pulling the youngest in the hug.
"You two, take care of each other."
"We will," Mary assured.
"Will we?"
She slapped Peter's arm very fast, the boy chuckled before saying that he was only joking and told his brother not to worry about them, they'll protect one another.
The two parents of the little family glanced at their children, the mother held her hand against her mouth and kept the tears in her eyes. Her husband intertwined his fingers with her, holding his wife close to him. They were sad, but that happy feeling didn't escape their hearts. Their three children grew such a strong bond over the years, they grew into adults that Mister and Miss Dawson were so proud of.
"Come on, we know you want a hug," Jack snickered, holding his arms wide open for his parents to fall into.
The two adults looked at each other, a loud laugh escaping their lips before folding their arms around their children. The mother rested her head on her oldest son's head, father brushed through the blonde hairs of his youngest child. Mary stood in the middle, all the arms covered her petite figure. All the Dawsons held a bright smile on their face, it was the last day that the three children were together.
28 September 1939
Peter and Mary crossed the streets to reach the door of the house they had been living in for a long time. The young man held the bread in his arms, the girl kept her basket filled with fruits and vegetables in her hand. She had a nice hat on her head, the color matching with her soft dress. Peter was wearing his favorites jacket over a blue sweater that kept him warm during these days, the temperature reaching very low.
The boy carrying around the mail biked past them and loudly greeted the siblings. Mary waved back at him, he fastly took of his own hat as a sign of respect and then returned back to his steer, continuing on his route to the other houses in the street. Letters with bad news in his bag, letters he was so scared to hand out.
Mary took the keys out of the pocket in her long skirt and unlocked the door, pushing it open with her free hand. They both took of their jackets, hanging it on the coat hanger and she put her hat on top of it, not wanting to wear it inside. She then followed her brother inside the kitchen and both started to place the groceries where they belonged.
"No, no, no. This can't be. Please, not my son, not Jack."
Peter and Mary's head quickly turned to the sound of their mother's voice screaming in the living room, a white letter fallen onto the ground. Mister Dawson saw his children staring at them and looked at the floor, picking up the bad news and laid it on the table were they always sat to eat. He then grabbed two of the coats and took his wife outside, going on a walk to the Moonstone, a boat ride always helping during these days. Mary noticed the tears in his eyes and rolling over the cheeks of her mother, the smile she had on her face faded into darkness.
"What is going on?," she screamed at them, but the door was already closed and their parents were gone.
Peter grabbed the letter from the dining table and tore the envelope open, grabbing the paper out of it and folded it open.
"We regret to inform you about the death of your son Jack Dawson, who was killed during a flight on the 24th September 1939. Please accept our deepest sympathy. There are no words which could describe the loss of a son. Jack has died bravely for Britain, it is how he wanted to go. He was a great pilot that will always be remembered as a kind man. He loved to talk about his family, that is why we are writing this letter, we wanted to do what we knew he wished for. As a sign of respect for your son, we decided to send you back the belongings we have found and an extra letter that will give you more information about the incident. We're very sorry about the loss of Jack. Sincerely, a dear friend," he read out loud, struggling over the sentences written in front of him. His mouth felt dry but his eyes started to tear. He closed the letter again and placed it where his father had put it, his hand holding onto it a bit longer than usual.
Mary was tearing the large packet next to it, breaking the ropes with her strength. She took out his dark blue jacket, a pin of an plane shining on the front pocket. She pushed the fabric in her face, inhaling the scent of her older brother. A small sob escaped the girl's lips, her eyes were closed as she allowed the tears to run over her skin. She held onto her younger sibling and embraced him in her arms, stroking over his head and shoulder. Both cried onto one another, both cried for a very long time. Their older brother had died during the war, he had joined the army three weeks before that day and he wasn't going to return back home. They weren't going to be reunited anymore, no more memories to be made, only memories they could relive in their dreams.
