Tell A Tale in 500 Words
Mr Cat By Alex Dixon
It was dark when Mummy woke me up.
"Get up Miriam, we need to go!"
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"We need to leave now."
I stood up. Mummy was wrapping Aaron in a blanket and tying him to her chest. His eyelashes fluttered in sleep.
"Quickly! Get dressed!" Cried Mummy.
I put my jeans and a jumper over my pyjamas. I tied on my pink trainers. My favourite toy, Mr Cat, was on my pillow. He is orange with green eyes. I tucked him into my jumper.
Mummy was packing a rucksack. She put in some money, nappies and food.
"Where are we going, Mummy?" I asked.
"I don't know darling.”
She put the rucksack on her back, being careful not to wake Aaron, and took my hand.
"Let's go." She said.
Her voice was shaky.
"Goodbye house," I whispered.
There weren't many streetlights anymore and it was dark.
We heard gunfire in the distance. Shouts. A car engine.
Tom and I were watching the news.
“I have to do something. The refugees have lost their homes, their families. Some of the kids are all alone.”
“It’s sad, darling, but what can you do? You’re only one person.” Tom replied.
“I want to go to Calais. Take some toys and clothes. Dave has a van, I’m sure he’d help me.” I said, determined.
When we were too tired to walk anymore, Mummy found an old shed and we slept in there.
The next day, she paid a man so that we could get into his truck. We found some space in the back. There were many people. It smelt like wee and sweat. Aaron started to cry. I cuddled Mr Cat.
After many days, we got onto a boat. It was rusty. We had eaten all the food from the rucksack. I was hungry and tired and scared.
“Is the boat safe, Mummy?” I asked.
“We’ll be fine.” She hugged me.
I don’t remember much about the journey. It rained a lot. I sat on Mummy’s lap with Aaron and closed my eyes.
At last we got to dry land again. I couldn’t find Mr Cat. I felt sick.
“Mummy, where is Mr Cat?”
We looked everywhere. He was gone. I sat on the cold ground and cried.
The camp is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The houses are just tarpaulins and corrugated iron.
A young mum with two kids arrives. The little girl hides behind her mother.
Her mum points to a cat soft toy.
“How much?” She asks.
“Oh, you speak English? It’s free.” I smile.
The lady gives the toy to her daughter. She clutches it close to her chest and looks at me with big brown eyes.
“What’s your name?” I ask the girl.
“She is called Miriam.” Replies her mum.
“Hello Miriam. I’m Emily. Do you like cats?”
Miriam grins and nods her head.
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