This is one of my first stories so please I'd like feedback before I do the next chapter
Chapter 1
Amsterdam, 1942
Arabella's POV
I awoke suddenly to a loud 'BANG' followed by hysterical screaming from the streets below. Unfortunately due to the war I knew precisely what was happening and soon the street siren sounded. I got up and ran to the doorway and was met by the sight of both my parents running wildly down the hallway.
"Arabella! Haast! Haast!" my father yelled.
He then hurried my mother down the stairs and into the cellar. I ran as fast as my feet would let me into the basement of the house. When I got to the bottom of the stairs my mother and father were huddled in the corner with complete fear in their eyes. Ran over to my mother and she held me close and we waited. The past weeks had been like this, you try to sleep and yet you're awakened by bombs in the distance. It had certainly changed my life and my parents. My mother was once the beautiful young socialite who would throw a party and it would be the talk of Amsterdam for months but now the war came and her once timeless beauty had diminished and now there were no more of our friends to entertain. They either fled or…..well honestly I'm not what happened to those that got called away and I don't really want to think about it. My thoughts were then interrupted by my father
"I believe it's over, let's go back upstairs" he said with a twinge of fear in his tone.
My mother got up and wiped the tears from her puffy red eyes and gestured me up the basement stairs. When I got into the foyer I saw that the house was still intact yet something caught my eye from the window. I slowly walked into the parlor and looked throw the window. I was met by a chilling sight. Thousands of papers seemed to be falling out of the dark dawn skies.
"Mother, father, come here and look" I said pointing out the window.
They both hesitantly walked over. My mother said nothing when she saw the paper she just looked down at the floors. My father however walked out of the parlor and out the front door. My mother rushed over
"Boris! Boris, get in here this instant! It's not safe out there!" she yelled.
My father picked up a paper and hurried back inside. He then started reading it with my mother looking over his shoulder. As she read it she slowly put her hand over her mouth
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph" she whispered into her palm.
My father's eyes got wide as he read the message. I made my way over to see what could be written on the piece of paper that causes them such fear. When I saw and read I soon knew why they were so afraid. The paper read
'Citizens of Amsterdam! Surrender Now! Or suffer the loss of your countrymen!'
I looked in fear at my father who was rubbing his eyes and looking out the window
"They can't be serious their only trying to scare us right?" I said looking at both my mother and father.
My mother didn't answer she just got up and asked if any of us would like tea. My father nodded and she hurried into the kitchen. My father took a deep breath.
"Yes Arabella, they're only scare tactics" he said to me smiling.
Yet the later months showed me that he was more than wrong.
*"Haast" is Dutch for "hurry"