Fiction

This is a story I wrote at school in my writer's notebook before COVID happened. The story is complete fiction and has nothing to do with real-life reality and health. Do not think I am crazy considering how weird this story is... 

A young girl in pigtails sat smiling atop her father’s shoulders waving a sign she couldn’t even read. “Save the Earth!” they chanted as she mimicked them with her babble. Supposed “chaos” and “anarchy” brought the happiest of times.

She sits underneath a tree unafraid of the world. The wind brushes along her face, and instead of being afraid that this gust might sweep her off and take her away, she welcomes the slight breeze in by letting it whisper in her ears.

I was taking a walk, admiring the rays of shimmering sunlight through the trees. The sky was clear, a truly magnificent blue. I wondered if I would ever get a day like this again. After all, we can't know what will happen later on.

Her socks were mismatched, eye gunk crystals stuck to her lashes, and the morning sun had risen far to early. But what else was new?

It was Suzannah who first noticed the two figures standing on the doorstep of the house numbered 37, for Adelaide had been too interested in their conversation about jam. “Who are they?” she whispered into Adelaide's ear.

The air continued to grow warmer as the summer continued to set in. In the earliest days of June, four girls could be seen walking down the Whitby cliff stairs after school, when the sun grinned down on their shining faces.

July 1914

This is what happens. I get picked last, when the worst soccer player gets picked before me.
People groan, to have me on there team. We start to play.
I don't get passed to. The worst player gets passed to.
I run up, steal the ball,

“Adelaide, look,” said Edwin, his eyes darting around the edges of the crowd. “There are men coming in.”
“What?”
“They...don’t look friendly.”
“Well, what can they do?”
“Quite a lot, actually, we should probably go.”