Grace Haddow

Hope

Part of me knew this was a stupid idea. Life as I knew it was crumbling around me, and rather than following the rational train of thought and running for my life; I ran straight back into danger. It was deafening, yet silencing; there were people everywhere grasping for items they thought would be useful in this situation. Screaming, destruction and countless cars in flames; and an hour ago I was finishing my shift in the grocer worrying about my outfit for a party tonight. As I ran into High Street from the alley, I locked eyes with Eve. Her long blonde hair billowing around her as she stared, arms filled to the brim with food she’d clearly stolen. I know I looked like hell, I was covered in dirt and there was dried blood caked around my hairline from where I’d hit my head on the steering wheel of my car. Her mouth open closed, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was also grappling with the memory of the first time we met at a whole five years old. I started to approach her, desperate to find out of she had a plan. The unmistakeable roar of those tore through the air, scattering the crowd of people on High Street. Eve turning on her heel and hightailing out of the street. A man ran, bumping me on his way past; breaking me out of my stupor. Sprinting across the road, I jumped through the shattered pub window, jumping over people and heading straight for the kitchen to hide. I went straight for the walk in industrial fridge, wedging it open with a tea towel from one of the benches. I slid underneath one of the wire shelving units; the chill of the floor grounding me.