Elaine Lawrence is a fourteen year old girl forced to the countryside to escape the Blitz in London. Quiet and out of place with the Pevensie siblings, she immediately meets the scrutiny of the second boy, Edmund, who's determined to turn his family...
A/N: This story is currently being rewritten, so some of the earlier chapters will have a different tone. I apologize for this and I am trying to get it done as soon as possible but the editing is a tedious process. It's quite necessary though since what was first written was when I was 16 and first started writing. If you've been with me that long snaps to you and thank you for your patience. Hope you all enjoy!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Unknown Daughter of Eve ( Book 1 )
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wind sweeps through the forest. The sun dances through the branches of the cherry trees, the blossoms in full bloom. It's quiet. Peaceful. Light dances over my eyes as I lay in the warm grass taking in the view. I hear loud pounding in the distance. It becomes louder and louder until I feel my head will explode. My vision goes blurry and I am shaken vigorously.
"Wake up!¨ I hear a voice yell into my ear. The loud crashing sounds do not cease. ¨Elaine! Please! Wake up! We need to leave!¨
My eyes shoot open and I take in the air. My lungs are met with smoke and dust. Blinded by bright lights, I shield my eyes. My head whips about in confusion as I pull myself into an upright position. Alarms blare through the empty streets, not knowing that we are the only people left to warn. More loud crashes come from closer by. I quickly stand and look around, panicking. Violet stands beside me, gripping the end of my worn, cotton dress. Her small frame disappears behind the flower patterned fabric as more bombs go off in the distance. She looks up at me, hazel brown eyes, dark skin, and large curls.
"The magician's gone!" She whimpers.
Fuck. I should never have slept.
"We have to go," I say, kneeling down to her. I look around, anxious at the thought of running to the air raid shelters, but it's our only hope. "You have to run, Violet."
"Wait! I'm scared." Her face crumbles and I pull her into a hug.
"We'll be alright," I brush my hand over her cheek, wiping away tears. "Stiffen up your upper lip, okay? I need you to be able to see without tears in your eyes."
She nods and takes my hand, trying as hard as a nine-year-old can to stop her trembling.
"There you go," I say, turning to the empty, smoking streets of London. I slide my hand over the array of fresh fruits before stopping over a gleaming, red apple. I pick it up, shine it on my flower print dress, and hand it to Violet. "You'll never find another easy opportunity to take market goods like this again!"
I wink and she grins.
After a moment's pause, I tighten my grip around Violet's small hand, take a deep breath and soon we're running through the empty streets. We dash past tables brimming with the countryside's wildflowers, freshly baked rolls, and sweet and sour jam tarts that are abandoned, their tablecloths gently swaying as the force of bombs comes from surrounding directions.
The sky overhead is smoky, the sun gone. The world is colored grey.
A prickle runs up my spine and I pull Violet against me. We press our bodies against Exotic World Parfume shop, barely hidden beneath its small canopy and Violet whimpers as I look up to see a German bomber humming above us. I steady my breathing as I look around, my eyes landing on an underground bomb shelter entrance.
Safety.
"What about the train?" Violet looks up to me, her big brown eyes wet with tears. She bites her lip from crying, clutching her apple close, and it breaks my heart at seeing how hard she's trying.
"That doesn't matter now. It left an hour ago and we missed it."
She swallows hard and I have to turn away.
This is my fault. If only I hadn't fallen asleep.
The humming dies down, the only sounds coming from the blaring alarms reverberating against London buildings, some standing and some rubble. The silence is hope enough for me.
"Run. Now."
We both stumble through the streets madly, praying to reach the subway's shelter in time. But the sickeningly steady hum chases after us, swooping down and crowing its warning. But it's too late. We're caught.
A bomb goes off behind us and the force of it pushes me forward. My head smacks against the cobblestone road. My eyesight fades in and out. My ears ring and I can vaguely hear more bombs going off. Blood trickles from my forehead, down over my eyes, and from my nose.
A red apple bounces along the cobblestone road, past a fiery London, and then darkness.
