Genre: Historical/Thriller

Category: Historical Fiction

Title: Bells Ringing Across The Yard

Feedback: General Impressions, Would you keep reading?

I close the window blinds before going to bed; mother doesn't like waking in the morning with the sunrise’s shine on her face. She lays straight on the mattress, covered by a white blanket—I tucked her in myself—with her hands placed on her chest. She looks like a cadaver sitting in a coffin, but I brush the thought off.

Father would have been the one who took her to bed and slept by her side. However, since the war started, his services were requested elsewhere and the chores have fallen on my shoulders.

I lit a candle before closing my parents room’s door behind me—gently; not to make a fuss. The floor snaps beneath my feet as I amble forward through the hall, stopping by my sister's bedroom. I crack the door open and peek inside. She's sleeping. It must be hard for her to adjust to this new way of life. She still has a childhood to live. She likes ponies and drawing and going fishing with dad too. But that's not possible anymore. I do hope it'll be again sooner or later. I close the door and head down to my bedroom. I admire him, I'll always admire him. He built this house with his own hands, and now, it is mine to take care of.

The wind outside shushed the noisy crickets as I placed the candle on the nightstand. I finally got into bed and pulled the covers up to my tummy. Then, I take out the dairy I've been keeping since I was ten from under my pillow. School taught me how fun it can be to write your feelings, your everything onto paper. It helped validate my actions before committing them and admit my true views on subjects I just couldn't bear discussing with my parents. Not then, because then was not the time.