The Bitter End

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They ran through the streets because her daddy said it would be pointless to try and take the car. She saw that he was right. There must have been a crash or something because there were broken cars everywhere. But she couldn’t see anybody in them. That was good. She didn’t want to see anyone hurt.

Cora Thompson held her mummy’s hand tightly. Her mummy looked scared and she didn’t want her to be scared. When her mummy was scared she remembered the time daddy had gone to hospital and she didn’t want to remember that.

Her daddy and Ben were a few metres in front. Pushing broken pieces of metal from the cars out of the way. It was the middle of the day and the sun was bright, it reflected on the metal like mirrors and she had to look away from things that were too bright.

There should have been other people, she realised. There should have been ambulances and police officers. There should have been a fire engine because one of the buildings was filling the air with poisonous smoke and heat. She wondered if there had been a terrorist attack. At school they had been told all about September 11th.

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