November 23 1963

By Edward Hilditch, aged 13

I heard about the assassination. Thank God I had heeded Hoover’s advice. I was bundled into a van by two square-like men with fists the size of rocks and bulging biceps. Their waists were adorned with revolvers, large batons and walkie-talkies. The doors slammed behind me and I was stuck in a cramped and stuffy space: not what POTUS was used to! But I suppose my life was no longer mine. I would have to live in total secrecy and containment. No-one could know I was still alive.

The tyres screeched as we drove off. There were no windows; only a small light. My head was full of questions; my mouth dry. The silence was palpable. What would Jackie be feeling; not even she knew about the plot?

After what seemed like an eternity, we came to a halt. The caterpillars in my stomach were turning to fully grown butterflies. The doors flung open. I shielded my eyes, unaccustomed to the bright light. In the split second before I was blindfolded, I glimpsed barren grassland stretching off into the horizon.

I was led to a building. As the door screeched closed, my sight was restored. My apprehension turned to sheer curiosity. I seemed to be inside a lavish building with plush red carpet and gilt furniture. I had to answer some questions before being ushered through an open door. Before I could turn around, the door closed behind me; locked.

I looked around. I was standing in a large windowless chamber with a number of corridors leading from it, presumably to other rooms. Then, from one corridor, some strangely-dressed figures appeared. One wore a purple-striped toga. Another, who had a clipped beard, wore a long dress coat and top hat. The last one, in a flowing, white robe like some sort of priest, looked Indian. Each seemed strangely familiar.

‘Et tu Kennedy?’ asked the one in the toga.

‘Who are you?’

‘Are you going to help me conquer the world?’

Where was I and who were these people? It was time for a strong statement: ‘Seriously, mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind. Don’t you realise how powerful and destructive nuclear bombs are?’

‘Very well said Mr Kennedy,’ said the Indian ‘non-violence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind. It is mightier than the mightiest weapon of destruction devised by the ingenuity of man.’

The official looking one, who had been sitting quietly listening for some time suddenly spoke: ‘Don’t worry about Gandhi and Caesar,’ he said in a comfortingly American accent, ‘All they do is argue about how to change the world. You’ll get used to it.’

So that was it – just as I thought each of Caesar, Gandhi and Lincoln had been assassinated, so people thought I, JFK, had been. But whilst I might still be alive, it seemed that I was condemned for ever more to be stuck in this strange purgatory.