A sea of drawn faces floated in the old train station. The stale lights flickered briefly, swaying gently overhead. Shabbily dressed children stood silently holding luggage, every bone in their frail bodies pronounced, a dead look in their hollow eyes. They tugged at their sleeves, willing them to be long enough to cover their red-tipped frozen fingers. Conductors and train staff waded through the throng, collecting carefully labeled suitcases and bags to stash aboard the locomotive.
“May I take this bag, madam?” questioned a gruff-looking man.
I managed a few mumbled words. “Yes, of course. Thank-you.” I watched as he loaded the heavy-laden suitcase aboard one of the train cars.
“Mummy, what’s happening? Where is that big man putting my suitcase?” Richard tugged on my heavy woolen skirt, his father’s pale blue eyes stared up into mine, begging for an answer.
I stooped down and pulled him into my arms. Choosing my words carefully, I breathed, “Well my little Richard, you know how we’ve gone into the bomb shelter when the sirens go off?” He nodded, his lower lip tucked into his mouth. “Then big airplanes fly through the sky.” The noise level was high; I whispered softly in his ear, still holding tight onto our embrace. “Then the bombs fall and shake the ground.”
“I know mummy. It's scary at night.”
“Well, in a few minutes, you’re going to go and sit on that train like your daddy did when he left to be in the war. Then, it’s going to take you to a safe place where the bombs don’t fall from the sky.” The first tear leaked out of the corner of my eyes and dripped down my cheek.
“Are you coming with me?”
“No, my child, I must stay here.”
Richard appeared confused. “But you’re my mummy! How will you take care of me?”
“Oh, Richard!” Tears slipped down my worry-lined face. “The best way for me to take care of you is to send you away.” My voice cracked at the end of my whispered declaration of love.
I cradled him in my arms, singing soft notes in his ear as he rested his underfed body against mine. Our tears mingled in pools on the cement floor. Desperate fears swirled in my head, thoughts that I might never be reunited with Richard. I never heard the Conductor’s whistle, but people rose up all around us, surging forward.
“Remember, Richard!” I screamed desperately as he was tugged out of my arms, “Remember that I’ll always love you, no matter what!” Our eyes met for the briefest of seconds, his deceased father’s pale blue eyes reflecting in mine. Then he was swept away onto the train with the refugee children. Oh dear God, I silently prayed, tears blurring my vision, Keep my baby safe!
Catching a last glimpse of his precious five-year-old face in a window, I waved, choking back sobs. He waved back, mouthing the three little words I desperately needed to hear. I love you!
Hey
Just wanted to say this is really well written. Every sentence is full of adjectives and you really go in detail when describing. This piece brings up emotions in a reader and I really liked it. An overall really great insight in to the heartbreaking moments of war.
Looking forward to reading more of your work.
Hey Yubbies21,
this is my attempt at a quick review 
...
I really like the concept of your piece. WW2 is such a great time in history to experiment with different types of creative writing!
The fact that it is from the mother's point of view provides an interesting dynamic. If I were you, I would try to bring that out more. Really try to bring out her emotions, not just visually, but through her thoughts and maybe hand motions. Sometimes the most subtle expressions speak louder than just simply stating what is happening.
Otherwise this is a great piece, and could even be part of a novel - if you are into that sort of thing.
Best of Luck,
Olivia
Hai! Alex here!
First off, I really enjoyed this little extract! I like how you gave a description of the event without droning on while still giving a very vivid picture in my head. I can see how you could carry this on from the boys point of view like the book "The boy in striped pyjamas". If I was a reader (which I am I guess) I would be hooked and wanting to read more!
Just a few points to improve:
1. As emjayc said, "his deceased father's pale blue eyes.." the deceased part is not needed, you can tell that from earlier.
2. I can't find anything else really, you have done an amazing job at editing 
In my opinion, write another chapter! I will look out for it eagerly!
Alex out, beep.
This is beautifully written I can already tell that I am going to enjoy reading your piece.
There are just a few comments I’d like to make:
~”his father’s pale blue eyes stared up into mine”- You phrase this so simply, but your words speak volume. There is a lot of emotion conveyed in a single phrase, which is a sign of good writing!
~” The first tear leaked out of the corner of my eyes and dripped down my cheek.” Once again, you put it so well without having to use superfluous vocabulary to express emotion.
~ “My voice cracked at the end of my whispered declaration of love.” I have nothing to complain about so far and I’m almost to the end. I also really love this sentence for the same reasons as above! I hope you win the writing contest because this is such a beautiful writing piece even though it’s so brief
~ “…deceased father’s pale blue eyes..”- I honestly feel that you don’t have to say that his father was “deceased” because through your words you told the reader that earlier. The piece is so well-written I could immediately tell that her husband was dead. You’re skilled at describing and not having to say it outright.
Altogether, this is a very touching story and extremely well-written! I wish you luck in the contest and I hope you win!!
The Messenger Knight here to review for KotGR.
so, this is a chilling line
Shabbily dressed children stood silently holding luggage, every bone in their frail bodies pronounced, a dead look in their hollow eyes.
his father’s pale blue eyes stared up into mine, begging for an answer.
“I know mummy. It's scary at night.”
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