A small girl panted as she ran round a corner. The air was filled with black and grey fog and smoke. She could feel it choking her slowly, the toxic gases seeping into her body. She pressed herself against a cold brick wall, hiding herself from any prying eyes. The noise was almost deafening. The attack was underway and she needed to shelter soon otherwise she and her precious bundle might come off worse.

She glanced down at the small baby wrapped up tightly in her arms. His poor little face was grubby and smudged with anything to everything after three days travelling. He screwed up his tiny face and began to cry, a noise which pierced the night.

"Hush little one, you don't want us to get caught do you?" her voice was thin and quiet, but she coaxed him as best she could. He quietened a bit but he still sobbed into her dress. She hugged the bundle and kissed her son on top of his small, dirty head and said a quick prayer, she'd need it. The shelter was in sight and she'd been spotted by someone there already. They were standing by the entrance, ready to welcome her and her child in. The young adult looked around frantically before making a dash for her last safe place left.

Oh, how she ran across the cobbled streets, her baby clutched tightly to her chest. Her hair streamed behind her, coming loose from her hood. Her skirts were trailing in the mud and her heart was beating so fast that she swore it was going to rip through her chest. She almost fell on a loose stone in the paving but managed to right herself quickly. She could smell burning in the air and screams echoing eternally in the still.

"Come on!" called the person at the door, "Just a bit further! You can make it!". The girl reached the old wooden door and smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. She and her baby had made it. She looked around her at the faces all gazing at her. A few people rushed to her and took her baby from her before she collapsed from exhaustion on the floor.