Welcome back to another storytime. This one I wrote while I was waiting for my train and I know it has a sad and possibly triggering ending, I don’t intend for it to end like this when I write it into a FULL-LENGTH NOVEL! Yep, I intend to write this into a book so look out for news on a WIP called TRAINS over on my Instagram or Twitter!
In a town decimated by a deadly plague, residents fight for survival. Cut off from the rest of the country, a single station resides within a town’s centre and every day at 1:46pm, the occupants of the town congregate at the station to watch the train pass through. The civilians on the train avoid the eyes of the onlookers. The impenetrable walls of the train and it’s advanced air purification system keeps the occupants safe from the toxic air of the town.
A well-off girl with a deeply seeded self-hate and a boy who has taken on a mother role to his two younger siblings find themselves standing together at these gatherings day after day, they don’t pay much attention to each other until one day, a full five and three months after their town was cut off, the train fails to arrive on time.
The boy who acts like a mother, asks the girl who hates herself for the time. Though they both can feel that something is wrong no one mentions it. The shuffling feet on the platform and the whispers of “maybe it’s delayed?” “maybe tomorrow” “maybe it’s too dangerous?” float around the platform. Always maybe. Always with a tone of certainty.
The next day and the next and the next saw less and fewer people on the platform as the train failed to arrive. A week flew past, then two and four, and soon the train’s passing became a distant memory; a story whispered in the streets.
The boy and the girl saw each other again. She ran past his first-floor window a two months later headed towards the bridge that spanned over a fast-moving current. Hesitating, he checked and double-checked his brother and sister who slept silently in their tiny beds and ran into the street compelled by some force of attraction.
He watched as the girl climbed onto the edge of the bridge leading her back against the railing, her hands lightly holding on to the railing. He saw her posture loosen as she surveyed the black rushing water 30 feet below. The toxic sludge that cycled through the town’s water supply could kill anyone from a single sip; he would know.
He watched as she wobbled slightly, bracing herself to dangle a leg over the ledge, her hand loosening its grip on the bars behind her. She looked around embarrassed, her eyes flicking past him and into the treetops.
She didn’t hesitate. He watched as she jumped. Chocking, his heart leaping from his chest in shock. His body screaming for him to do something. How was he to know she was going to jump; he could’ve done something.
In the last moment, before her body smacked into the water with a sickening slap and a crack, she turned her head ever so slightly toward the end of the bridge and saw him. A smile on her face and stars in her eyes.
Fixating on her smile, he felt his shoulders drop, his body relax, and though sad, knew that she had made it to where she wanted to be. Her ancestors had already taken her, long before she made the jump.
The well-off girl with a deeply seeded self-hate felt not the impact, but the heavenly hands of her relatives long passed and heard a soft splash of the water as she hit it. Then light.
Do you ever have strange bursts of inspiration that turn into something that you could be proud of? That’s what this was, and I love it. I’d love to hear what your inspiration bursts lead to.
I’d love to hear what you thought of the story, and if you want to see the concept (maybe without the tragic end) be translated into a full-length novel?
With Love Bree xx
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