A French woman walked through the dark streets of Warsaw. Her scarf was wrapped around her head and the clip-clopping of her boots echoed in the soulless allies.
She stopped in front of what appeared to be an abandoned house. The paint was peeling off the walls, the windows were streaked with dirt and the grass looked as if it hadn’t been cut in a year. The rusty gate creaked loudly as it was opened, the woman cringed at the noise, she didn’t want anyone knowing that she was here.
She crept around the back of the house and slipped through the back door. There in front of her stood four adults and three wide eyed children. They all held a suitcase in their hands.
“Come” she said “We must hurry”
The eight of them walked as swiftly and as quietly as they could, back along the path that led to a truck. The seven nervous Jews clambered into the back of the truck, the woman got into the front beside a French man.
“Drive Pierre” she said. The truck took off as fast as it could go, barely making it around the corners.
Emelia watched the houses fly past them. Some had lights on, others were completely dark.
Suddenly, a pair of headlights could be seen in the mirror and gunshots pierced through the heavy silence of the night.
“They have found us Pierre, the Gestapo have found us” Emelia said, fear gathering in the pit of her stomach.
Pierre didn’t answer, he just looked grimly onwards.
Emelia felt cold all over. She felt as if she were disconnected from her body, as if she were watching this chase from afar.
Suddenly, she was jerked forwards as the van chasing them it the back of the truck, attempting to stop their getaway.
“Drive faster Pierre” Emelia said urgently.
“I’m driving as fast as I can Emelia” Pierre replied.
Emelia was flung from the passenger seat as the truck turned sharply and unexpectedly around a corner in an attempt to throw the Gestapo off their trail.
As she tumbled across the cold, hard ground, scraping her arms, legs and head, Emelia heard, distantly, Pierre shouting her name, the screeching of car brakes behind her, car doors being opened, the pounding of feet against the ground.
Strong hands hauled Emelia unceremoniously to her feet. She watched the truck fade into the distance and noticed the coldness of the gun against her head.
Emelia looked up at the night sky, she wanted the stars to be the last thing she ever saw and so they were.
A/N
Sorry for any historical inaccuracies. As always thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
Amy x