FLOOD 

By Tessa Harvey

    She wondered how nan was, still alive she hoped and prayed. Sylvia had been feeling angry lately. Her fake dad had ordered blokes to attack her as some kind of revenge.
    Then she had crashed her car - her own fault, she knew, but she had found her real father, and that made her feel tremendous.
    She struggled on, holding the fence. Her pyjamas were sodden and the wind was rising. She began to shiver, finding it very hard to keep going. Tiredness gripped her, and biting cold.
    The door of the granny flat was open, water surging freely.
    Panic gripped Sylvia. "Where was nan?" She tried to pray, as if God was real. Where is nan? "God help me find her. Please, please help me find her.
    Hazel was not a direct relation, but she loved the elderly lady. Without hesitating, she had accepted Sylvia as a real granddaughter, just loving her so much and genuinely caring about her.
    She groped in the turgid waters swirling around the small loung. Nothing. 
Just ornaments, photo frames. A cat wailed and launched herself from a tall wall unit. The cat stared near Sylvia's feet. Something banged her legs.
    The girl bent down and gripped sodden clothing, hauling as hard as she could. the large couch was still anchored and Sylvia sank down, holding the older lady, trying to free her lungs from water. The little tabby cat pushed against nan's face.

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