This is the story of Jonny, a four-year-old boy who is caught up in a guerrilla war after the deaths of his parents, told from his perspective.

Jonny was cold. He didn't want to be cold, and he wished that the coldness would go away and stop annoying him. The livingroom fire had gone out just after daddy had left, and he had been forbidden from trying to light it after he had set the rug on fire last year. His coat hung on the coat racks by the front door, but it was just out of his reach and mummy wouldn't wake up and get it for him, even when he had stated crying. He had tried pulling a chair through from the dining room, but the hall doorway was too narrow. So he had returned to his cold room, wrapped his blanket around himself and sulked. His blanket wasn't always warm enough to keep out the cold draughts that often blew through his room, and Jonny often slept with his coat on to keep warm. Now, without his coat, and with the wind blowing colder than ever, Jonny was getting colder.

Daddy had left just before dark with two other men that Jonny hadn't recognised. He had though at first that they might be daddy's friends, since they wore the same heavy boots and carried the bulky objects that daddy and his friends used when they went out to hunt. But daddy was always happy to see his friends, and he had not been very happy to see these people at all. They had shouted at each other, and daddy had said some words that mummy had told him never to say again. Then daddy had come over to him, put Jonny into his lap and told him that he loved him and that he had to look after mummy. Jonny hadn't quite understood, but he nodded anyway, because daddy looked very sad. Then daddy hugged him very tightly, stood back up and walked out, wiping his eyes. The two uniformed men followed him, as they left the house, one of them had tunred, and muttered something about 'finishing the job later'.

Jonny had tried his best to look after mummy, even when she started to thrash about in her bed. Jonny knew that daddy would normally stroke her hair and speak softly to her, and give her some of the small, red sweets that Jonny wasn't allowed to try. But the cupboard was out of reach and she was shaking too violently for him to try and hold her still like daddy did. When she had stopped moving, Jonny had tried to wake her up, but she had just lain still, so still that he couldn't even hear her breathing. He had cried for a bit, and then wandered off to find a chair.

The End

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