Day 616

When the great fire spread my family took refuge in the sewers.
See smoke goes up so if you go down it doesn't get you.
We weren't the only ones to think of it sure but it was better than roasting on the streets.
People were chucking all sorts onto the flames, feeding and fighting it in equal measure.
When they started throwing the unwanted and homeless like us, we knew we had to escape.

Dad always said that if you walked enough you'd find something better.
That's why he sent us out so early on in life, just me and my three brothers alone in London.
We were supposed to find something better down there - not sure if it's better but it's something.
It's like a labyrinth down those sewers, twists and turns and dead ends aplenty.
I don't know how long we were down there but the air cooled eventually and the screaming stopped.

Every sound stopped but the dripping of water and faint moans from others who'd had our idea.
We waded through London's filth and struggled to keep our heads above it in some places.
Lost Timothy to it right near the start.
He was either too tired to move any more or he got pulled back out and burnt.
Everything after entering the sewers until leaving them is hazy.

I remember several rooms - big ones - where the water and filth just dropped down into endless pits.
They seemed too big to fit under the city and were more like cities of their own.
There were even people moving and living in those rooms, past the pits, on large platforms.
Everyone seemed so happy but not quite right.
It was something about the way they moved, like those shadowbox puppets - all jerks and snaps.

We lost James to one of those rooms, or rather to the pits around it.
He wanted to be a part of those happy scenes so much he just leapt... or was he pushed?
As I said it's all hazy but after a few flights of stairs we came to another room like the ones above.
James was waving at us from one of the platforms - or was someone moving him like a puppet?
There were definitely people on either side of him, all three smiling together.

By the time we found an exit it was just me, Edward and the smouldering remains of Eastcheap.
Ever since then there's been something different about Edward.
All he talks about is those tunnels and the cities and how happy the family will be when we return.
I know he's been digging in one of the burnt-down buildings, in the cellars.
He wants the people to come out again almost as much as they want to be out again.