Tommy Robinson 🇬🇧

Everything Will Be Okay I watched Mum and Dad from the top of the stairs, looking through the railings, when three men in black kicked the front door in. One of them hit my dad so hard he fell, and then they tied both of them up. I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it. I ran to my brother’s room. He was at his computer with his headset on. He didn’t hear me, or he did and thought I was being annoying. He waved me away without looking. I hid in the cupboard where the hot water pipes run. I had Mum’s phone—the one she let me play games on—and I dialled 999, just like she’d taught me. I told the woman my address and what was happening. She said there were no police nearby, but that everything would be okay. Then I heard sirens. I cracked the door and saw blue lights flickering through the windows. My brother was still at his computer. The police came in hard, boots on the stairs, shouting. They dragged my brother out of his chair. I ran after them, yelling, “They’re downstairs with Mum and Dad. Did you get them?” They didn’t answer. Or maybe they didn’t hear me. Maybe I was just an annoying little girl. My brother screamed as they took him down the stairs. I followed. Mum and Dad were still tied up. The three men were still there. The police looked past them, muttered something about paperwork, about trouble, and then the sirens started again. They left with my brother. The house went quiet. The men turned and looked at me. Not angry. Hungry. Mum and Dad couldn’t speak. Their eyes were begging. That is where the story ends.