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The sirens blasted their alarming sound and Sybil woke with a start.
"Mummy!" She screamed. "Fuck." She found her foot tangled in her blanket as she tried to get up. When she finally got herself free, her mother, Elle, came bursting in.
"Sybil!" She yelled. "Are you hurt?"
"No, mum."
Another blast.
"Mummy!"
"It's gonna be alright, Syb! Just follow me!" The two young women walked through the halls full of shaking appliances and paintings.
Suddenly, the room shook. Elle gasped -- and she had good reason to -- she had been thrown down the stairs.
Those stairs were huge! Imagine being flung down them with so much force that every bone in your body cracked and you blacked out... forever.
"Mother!" Sybil screamed and ran down the stairs, dodging the flying shards of glass and debris. Sybil's mother was indeed dead. "No!" Sybil wailed until she noticed that the house was practically crumbling around her.
But Sybil was smart and she knew that her mother wouldn't want her to be dead because of her. And so, Sybil raced out of the house and into the Pevensie's yard were their mother was yelling, "C'mon, Peter!"
Sybil thought it wise to seek shelter and so she took off toward Helen Pevensie's open arms.
"Oh, Sybil dear." Helen spoke softly once all of her children were safely inside the bomb shelter. "I am so sorry."
Sybil didn't answer. No. She couldn't answer. She felt her words get stuck in her throught. So, she swallowed them in the hopes that she wouldn't ever feel such grief again.
She spent the rest of the night with the Pevensies in their bomb shelter. The next two mornings would be spent packing. The next to days would be spent reading. And the nights full of restless sleeping.
Sybil packed her locket. The most precious thing in the world to her. It was golden and silver with a picture of Elle inside. Sybil cried over it many times before grabbing her bags and leaving with the Pevensie children.
