Beth and Ben stared at the mess lying on grandpa’s bed.
They took one last look inside the wardrobe they had freshly emptied. Dejected, they ran down the stairs to their grandfather. Puffing their cheeks the little twins stood between grandpa and the television.
“Grandpa is a liar,” the two declared in unison.
Grandpa adjusted his spectacles.
“When did I lie?”
The kids led him up to his bedroom. They pointed to the empty wardrobe.
“You said grandma kept her treasures here before going to heaven.”
Grandpa smiled looking at the mess on his bed.
All us cousins knew we weren’t to go near it. Grandma had made that clear. However, on a boozy night, our curiousity got the better of us. I accepted the dare to open it. There lay grandpa’s corpse, one eye staring at us.
Mother quarreled with him over his secretive lifestyle. However, he never changed his ways. He would spend hours in our library, buried under piles of books. He never seemed to read them, rather he just skimmed through. Mother had developed a resentment towards books and did not step inside the library, and I simply wasn’t allowed there. One day, while dad was away on a trip, I snuck in. I wore his glasses and began going through his books. It was then I understood his obsession. The glasses highlighted certain words – clues.
For four days we have been trapped in this bunker as those dastardly planes bomb our city relentlessly. The torrential explosions in the day are followed by distant detonations in the night. It then that we venture out of the bunker. A group of four or five at a time. We make a run for the storeroom and grab food for those in the bunkers. The devils in the sky think they can make us quit with their rain of hellfire. That won’t happen. We will never give up.