“I remember the war...” A frail, grey haired woman said, two young children say on the floor in front of her, the girl gasping. “You were in the war, grandma?” A laugh erupts from the woman, shaking her head. “No love, but my daddy was. He was a soldier. They recruited him as soon as the war started.” The children watched starry eyed, cross-legged on the old shag carpet. “I remember it like it was yesterday,” she paused, giving a nostalgic sigh. She was soon sucked into the past, a seemingly grey hue over the whole scene. A girl, about the age of 13 is standing beside her friends, books in hand. She turns to a girl on her right, having to look up because she’s quite short. “Anne, did you hear about what Mr. Jones did...” she trailed off as she heard someone stomping down the lane, whipping around to see a young boy running towards her. “Joey? What are you doing here?” She questioned, the boy breathing heavily from his long run. “Joan, we gotta go, there’s something really bad going down and we have to get home to mother right away.” He said, tugging his sister on the arm. Joan follows after her brother, her golden locks falling to her back like honey.

The two of them burst in the door, their mother sat in a chair at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. Her usual dark brown curls are now tangled and dirty and her fancy dress covered in mud. “Mother? What’s wrong?” Joey questions, running to his mothers side to comfort her. He pulls her son into a hug, and takes a sigh to recollect her emotions. “Your father, they came to get him while you were gone. The war is moving closer and they needed him in the city. It was bombed two days ago.” Joan pulls her hand to her stomach as it wraps itself in knots. The room goes silent for young Joan as she looks to the sky from the window. Tears stream down her cheeks as she thinks about losing her father in this wretched war. She and her father were extremely close and she wasn’t sure what would come of her family if he were to not return. Joey was far too young to support them and her mother was disabled. The responsibility would fall on Joan. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears. She would do whatever she had to do to protect and support her family, regardless of the cost.

Several months later, Joan was sat upon the porch, sweat beading off her tanned skin. Her hair was set in a high ponytail, secured with a tiny piece of ribbon. The wind blew, birds chirped. It was unbelievable to think that a war was going on just two towns over. Joan wondered if the fighting would move closer to her home, and how she would protect her family. She would do what was needed, that was for sure. As she walked inside, she grabbed a pot and began dinner. Her mother’s disability had been getting progressively worse since Joan’s father left, so she was stuck with motherly duties, as well. She placed the food on the table, calling for her brother to come and eat. Joan plated her mother’s food and took it into her. “I’m going to work. Have Joey clean the kitchen for me.” She said before she walked out the door and began her walk to work. She grabbed a basket and made her way to the blackberry patch, squatting down to begin picking. The sun begins to fall as she hears a thudding coming up the road. It was odd to her, as this road was hardly ever used and it was quite late. As she stands and brushes her hands off on her skirt, she realizes who was riding up the lane. It was her father and he was well! She gasps, dropping her basket and running to him. He crouches, pulling her into a tight hug. Oh how she missed his hugs. As he pulls away, she didn’t expect the frown on his face. “We need to get your mother and brother out of here. The war is steadily moving north and will be here within the next day. Once again, Joan’s stomach wraps into knots. The stakes were much higher this time. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“We need to move, now!” Joan urged, a rifle in her hand. While she had never really handled a gun before, her father taught her the basics and she was confident she knew what she was doing. “Father is going to be meeting us here at sun down.” She says, grabbing a bag and stuffing it with food and clothes. “Let’s go.” She said, helping her mother up from the couch and walking out the door. They only get a few miles before her mother grows tired, and needs to sit. Joan and Joey help their mother sit and keep watch. “This is close to where father wants to meet, right? Maybe we’ll run into him and he can help mother.” Joey says, hopefully. Joan ignores him and keeps her focus on the surrounding area. Suddenly, she notices something move in the bushes. She slowly stands, pointing her rifle at the movement. “Show yourself, or I’ll shoot!” She threatens, a all, blonde haired man standing up with his hands in the air. It was her father. “Please, Ma’am, I mean no harm! I’m just trying to find my family!” He chuckles, Joan both sighing in irritation and relief. “Can we just fix please?” She begged, her father nodding. “Yes. Let’s go.”