Your Call
By Masque de Naïf Beaute

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wanna know something sad? I dreamt this! It's been years since I've seen a Narnia movie (including Prince Caspian…) and last night I had this dream! Crazy right? Well I just had to share it because I thought it could have potential.

Chapter one: Sad beginnings

It was a typical day for someone that lived in Finchley, England. The sun peeked out of the ominous clouds that lingered above the buildings. The children played in the street while the fathers mowed the lawn or played catch along with the children. The mothers, awaiting the lunch hour, began to do house chores. Vacuuming, dusting, and making beds.

1934 was just the beginning of bad beginnings. Jews were treated like slaves or commoners. All in all, they weren't being treated like equals. Of course, being in England you didn't have to worry about such things. This was happening in Germany and many Jews came over to the English border. In the very end, England was okay where it stood.

But not everything can be well.

The Pevensies lived in a rural neighborhood. Everyone was happy. The only house that was empty was the one that stood next to their own.

It took no time to have that house filled with happiness and cheer. July 1934 the Franks moved next door. They were a lovely family.

They had only one child, her name was Clara Martha Frank. Joanna was the mother, she was Polish and didn't speak a word of English, while the father, Henry, was a true English gentleman. He taught Clara English as well as his wife. Though it was harder to teach a twenty-nine year old English after twenty-seven years of Polish.

Clara was often described as a humble, shy girl. She was gullible to a certain point, and she wanted to believe that everyone had some good in them. She saw the best in people even if it was harder for others to see. She was clumsy and adorable.

"Susan!" A girl's voice called out as the brunet sat under a near-by tree, reading none other than a book. Susan looked up and saw Clara, one of her friends, running over, a smile carved into her face.

"Hello Clara." Susan spoke perfect English for a six-year old and wasted no time learning more. A smile appeared on Susan's face.

"Susan, how has your day been going?"

"Fine, Peter is in the house if you want to say hi to him." Susan spoke with a slight clutch. She wasn't one for sharing friends with her brother since everyone loved him. Clara, tilted her head sideways, and spoke.

"I came to ask you to come to the park with me. We could play in the sandbox!"

"Aren't you too old for a sandbox?" Susan asked with a mature tone. She acted like a ten-year old even though she was four years short.

Clara pouted at her friend's come back.

"I see. You have fun then." Clara's back turned and she walked off to her house. She really didn't have any other friends besides Peter and Susan. Everyone teased her and pulled her light brown hair. They even called her names! She tried to get along with them, but no words could overcome their stubbornness.

"Hey Susie." Another voice said as she was snuggled back into her book. Sighing, and without looking up, she knew who it was.

"Peter." There was a moment of silence.

"Where's Clara? I just saw her a moment ago, and now she's gone." Susan put down her book she clearly was enjoying.

"She went back home. She came over here to ask me to play with her." Peter looked slightly hurt and kicked at an invisible rock.

"Why didn't she ask me?"

"She probably figured your too old to play in the sandbox." Susan lifted up her book again, only to have a hand shift it down.

"You made her sad didn't you?" Peter asked, disappointed. His sandy blond hair was shaggy and needed a cut.

"So? She needs to grow up a little."
"Susan! You're only six, and so is Clara! You need to act a little more your age." Peter said, again disappointed in his sister's attitude.

"Go make her feel better then. You're her best friend after all." Susan ultimately just wanted to read by herself and enjoy the company of a good book, not people.

"Fine." His face was slightly reddened as he stalked off towards the Frank's residence. Susan, smiling slightly, lifted the book right back up and stuffed her nose into it. Mystery books were always the best, even if she didn't know what some of the words meant.

Peter, reaching the Frank's house, knocked on the oak door and waited patiently, rocking back and forth on his heels. Finally the door opened revealing a slightly tearful Clara. Her face lit up when she saw Peter.

"Hi Peter! What brings you…" she paused for a moment thinking of the word her father used for this sentence, "here?" Peter chuckled silently at her clueless-ness.

"Want to go to the park?" Clara smiled widely.

"Let me tell my mum."

"And I'll go tell mine."

A moment later the two children met outside.

"My mum said I'd have to be back by six, which gives us about forty minutes." Peter said as he walked besides Clara. Her hair was up in a slightly messy bun with two strands framing her face.

"My mum said six also. She said she didn't want bad people stealing me!" Peter nodded his head and smiled. Grabbing her hand, he spoke again: "Come on! We've got to hurry!"

And with that they raced off while the sun still lingering in the sky creating hues of orange and yellow.

"Hey Peter, how about a castle?" Clara asked as she sat on her bum. Her pretty, yellow dress getting dirty.

"Clara!" Peter went over and brought her up by her hands, "you can't get your pretty dress all dirty, then your mum will ground you. Remember last time?" Clara pondered for a moment and broke out in a smile.

"I remember."

"And yes, let's build a castle."

A few minutes passed by as some bigger boys walked by and saw the two younger children playing in the sand box. One boy, with flaming red hair, walked over and kicked the sand castle, which the two had been building, quickly destroying it. Clara looked up at the bigger boy.

"Why'd you do that?" Her voice was laced with sadness as she gathered the sand up and stared at it.

"Are you gonna cry? You're such a cry baby!" The other two boys came over and they all pointed and laughed at her. Clara's eyes watered up with salty tears as they ran down her face. Peter, looked at Clara and then at the older boys.

"What's your problem?" Peter asked standing up from the sandbox. The sand grains falling off his corduroys.

"What's your problem?" The older boy asked as he pushed Peter backwards in the sandbox, "we're just having a little fun with your crybaby of a friend here." The other two boys made crying noises and kicked sand in Clara's direction. Clara looked up with big, tearful eyes.

"Why are you being so mean?" The older boy stood back from Peter and looked directly at Clara.

"Because, you cry so easily." The other boys laughed loudly. Clara looked at the boy, her eyes narrowed.

"Why are you being mean to Peter?" The older boy looked at Clara, again.

"Peter? That boy?" He pointed to Peter who was laying in the sand, rubbing the back of his head, "he's just trying to be your friend. He doesn't like you. Nobody does you stupid Pollock." Clara looked down at her shoes. Pollock is a racial slur towards the Polish community and many people never teach their children that, but apparently their parents had.

"Pollock, Pollock, Pollock, Pollock!" The older boys chanted as they teased her and threw sand at her. Clara cried and cried, until finally Peter got up and knocked one of the older boys over.

"Leave my friend alone!" Peter's face was beet red and climbed on top of the older boy and punched his face. Clara looked up slightly and gasped at Peter.

"Peter!" she sobbed out, but before she could do anything the two older boys pushed Peter off and grabbed the bloody nosed boy.

"You stupid kid I'll show you!" Before he could get back up, the other two pushed him back.

"Just leave them alone James. That's enough." The older boy glared at Peter and walked away with his friends. Clara got up and grabbed Peter's shirt; she clung to it.

"T-they called me a b-bad name." Clara sobbed into Peter's white shirt. Peter looked down at the smaller girl and petted her hair.

"It's okay, everything will be okay Clara." Clara hugged her friend closely, but this was only the start to a sad beginning. If only they knew.