Young Writers Society

Helen
The cupboard was bare, that was the first thing I noticed. Someone had been at this safe house recently and none of the resistance had been to replace the provisions, this was bad news. I collapsed down onto the chair and sighed, holding my head in my hands. My eyes fixed themselves onto the old wooden table, I noticed carvings had been made. “Justice and freedom are not luxuries but rights,”, my hand followed the message, caressing each shallowly cut letter. Yet the words seemed just as shallow now, how much I would give to be able to take my baby and husband back home. Why, why did I have to fight and open my mouth? My eyes started to fill with tears.
“Baby, did you find any food.” Peter called from the other room. I quickly wiped my eyes and stood up, taking a deep breath.
“No, but I’m sure someone will be here with some soon, they stock up as often as they can.” I smiled and reached for Cillian, “see the hole that mummy has dragged us too.” I said as I looked around the dank, dark and stinking room. “This is what comes of principle, Cill. Never speak up, because it’ll mean you’ll have to live like a rat.”
“Helen, don’t” pleaded Peter. I looked at him. His eyes begged me to be strong. “You’ll have to go out and steal something hun, my face is to recognizable. He nodded and kissed me one the cheek.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Remember to get some formula for Cill” He shouted Ok and left. I settled on to the damp green sofa and looked around me. God I had really screwed things up.

Harry
We were both tying up the boots on our uniform in the clean and clinical changing room’s of the black coats. I glanced at Billy as he stood up and dusted down his pride and joy, the black coat emblazoned with the Captains rank.
“Where are you sending yours today Bill?” I asked, mostly just to acknowledge his presence.
“Davent quarter and then onto Moss Bank.” He answered, citing two places that had recently seen quite regular resistance. I exhaled sympathetic, puffing out my cheeks and stood up myself, putting on my own black coat, only different from Bill’s because it carried the Silent, badge not the captains.
“Drew the short straw on that didn’t you?”
Bill looked up at me with a strange look “Did I hell, I asked for them.” He then smiled, “what’s the point of being a black coat if your not going to fight the resistance? “ With that he left, and I looked down at my target. This was really fighting the resistance, Helen Brookes, husband and one son. She had spoken out and now it was Harry’s job to find her and bring her in. He smiled to himself and left, ready to make a difference once again.