It was a dreadfully cold November night when the first raid alarms started sounding. I don't remember much of it- only the flurry of people running in frantic panic, loud inexplicable noises and the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest as I looked around for my baby sister Catherine. I heard the people screaming outside as if the sound of their voices could actually overpower the overwhelming sirens- which sounded more like a desperate wailing than the mother's and children's cries while they tried intensely clinging to each other among the throbbing crowd. Even with the knot in my throat that threatened to break my concentration I called out for little Cathy. My thinning shoes let the bumpy gravel reach my aching feet as I ran back and forth in a maddening zigzag. My eyes strained to see past the fluttering people and at some point I could have sworn I saw her, her little bird-like stature and frizzy raven hair. But just like the rest of the shuffling shadows she disappeared in the sea of mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers, people.
I certainly didn't know where Mother was for sure, I had gone back home when the first wail sounded and there was no trace of her. She had probably already gone to the bunkers as soon as she could. My sister and I had been walking down the street admiring the dark, nighttime storefronts. The toys, the fine foods and the fancy fur coats I'd seen my neighbor wear on occasion. She giggled passionately even though she knew we could never possibly afford any of those things. I did buy her some candies with the money I had earned from my assistance with Mrs. Crowley's housekeeping. Her eyes glinted and her mouth stretched in the most delicate and pleasing of smiles.
I tried to focus only on getting Cathy to safety if I could just find her. I resisted the tears and fiercely plundered through the crowds. I could not lose her now, not now. A gone brother was enough for my mother and I.
"Cathy!" I couldn't hear the sound of my own voice but I could tell it was hoarse. Perhaps somebody had already taken her somewhere safe. I could only pray. There was someone a few feet away I recognized from the playground I'd take Cathy to. She was about eight or nine and had beautiful golden hair that swirled and twisted cupping her jaw. She, too, was lost and the tears now swam down her rosy cheeks. I thought for a moment I would lose consciousness but I didn't. Somehow I kept going. The world was spinning around me and in on itself. Without realizing it we had made to the underground entrance. "Cathy?" My voice, my entirety had been reduced to a whisper.