The Writing Challenge — Day 3

A story that takes place pre-1950.

I don’t mind sleeping under the floor.
The house I stay in is raised about two feet off the ground in case it floods. The whole area is wooden, so from the outside, it looks like the whole under is solid. But if you move Mama and Baba’s iron bed, you can lift up a hatch that looks perfectly ordinary and go under. There’s no big handle, and the door doesn’t look different from the rest of the house. It’s perfect! Now, I am allowed up during the day. I get to help Mama fold clothes, and help Poppy (her name is really complicated so I call her that) cut the potatoes for dinner. They’re really nice to me, considering that I’ve only been staying with them since the war started. I miss Papa. Mama said after he told me to wait here for him, he had walked about an hour before the soldiers caught him and put him on the train. I don’t know where the train goes, but I know it takes you to a bad place. I asked Poppy if the train takes you to Hell, and she said “It may as well be.” I didn’t really get what that meant.
Here they come again. There’s a slit in one of the boards in the front, so I can see them before they knock. They search for people like me in houses sometimes. They never said why. Baba opens the door and lets them in, as usual. They look around, they open the dresser and the wardrobe, look under the cabinets and in the attic, then they look under Poppy’s bed and Mama and Baba’s bed. Then they take some of Poppy’s food and they leave. I know that if they catch me, I’m going to have to go on the train that takes me to Hell. Sometimes I think it will be good, because then I can see Papa and my real Mama.
There’s a little girl walking home. The soldiers see her when they leave the house. They walk up to her. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but she looks scared. One grabs her by the wrist and starts dragging her away. Now I can hear her screaming. Mama and Baba would take in more people, but it would be suspicious if they bought more food.
No, I don’t mind sleeping under the floor. It’s safe here.

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