untitled story chapter one
Posted 02-07-10 at 12:40 PM by cheekybit
Tags feelings
ok this is my story i have written a few chapters but this is only part of the first chapter
I am stood there in the tracks watching the engine come towards me at 200 miles an hour and I’m not scared I know what will happen once I get hit because I know that I will die, that no person could ever survive being hit at such a speed surely. I see the lights coming towards me, closer and closer, the tracks are rumbling beneath my feet making it unsteady for me to stand but I don’t budge, I refuse to allow the shaking to conquer my stance. This is not the stance of one who wished to die throughout her life no this was the stance of someone with no fear but the fear of carrying on alone. So I just stand there holding my ground knowing that soon I am going to become another one of those classified teens who took their own lives, but I will not be able to hear the names and things they will say about me because I will be gone, six foot underneath all of that chaos. I just stand there watching the beams coming closer to my statue of pain.
The rumble of the train beneath me is so loud, so annoying so awful. Not one moment of peace on this bloody thing. One minute the babies are crying the next the old woman behind me is complaining about the colour of the sky or something stupid like that. But now in this one moment of what I thought would be quiet I can hear nothing but the clicking of the train as it carries me and the many others to our next destination. I tap my fingers on the desk out of frustration. My head is resting on my right hand as the left taps. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap go my fingers as I stare blankly out of the window and the dull night countryside. “What’s that?” I hear a rather loud woman inquire to the man sat next to her. He must have shrugged because she just said oh and I didn’t hear him reply, not that I really care. All I want is peace of quiet and some alone time. I guess that was the whole point of this escape to the country trip. I hope mum isn’t too worried, well she can’t be she always understands when I have to go away I need to have space, something they never give me at home. I mean there is me, and then there is mum and her family and then dad and lily, dads weird work friend. All in the same house. I never get a moment of peace there so here I am again on the bloody train escaping to the little house my mother lived in years before I was born. I hope this time the guys will be around again they were great to me. I got on really well with them. All sixteen of us got on really well.
I look at the lights that are coming towards me and think of all of the people on the train so clueless of all the things that have happened in the world they are about to enter. I fear for them for they are going to be hit with shock when they find out they were on the train that is about to flatten me to death. I wonder if it will be on the news. I don’t want to be of any concern. This is my decision right? My life and my decided end to it. Seems fair if you ask me. I don’t see why I cannot take what is rightfully mine. The others did so now it is my turn right? Yeah I guess I am right. For once I feel so numb that I don’t actually give a flying fuck anymore. No one gave a sod about the others so what will make me any different? Well nothing I guess, well maybe the fact I am not from around here may well account for something. I shake my head. I have had enough time to think this through. I am not going to chicken out now. I cannot justify what I am about to do but I can justify that I am crazy.
I stare out of the window still blankly, not caring much for what is lying out there in the vast night. All I can think about is peace and quiet. I must be yearning for it very badly. It isn’t very often I beg for quiet but lately home has been so draining for me. There is nothing out there but the black of the night and the stirring creatures of the night.
Here it is, here it comes. Good bye world. Good bye life I lived and used to love. Good bye body.
The train brakes squeal as it slows down violently. I look around as my body slides forward in a slow motion. I see the scared faces. Everything is so blurry. Then my body slams hard against the table. I hit my head on it and I feel my organs travelling forward though my body has already hit the table in front. Everyone is silent. The baby isn’t screaming no one is moving no one is making a sound. I feel the blood drip down my face and onto the table. The glass from the window next to me is smashed and sticking in and out of my arm.
I wake up in a panic, panting for breath and sweating in a disarray of pain from my haunting dream, confusion and fear. Is that what could happen? And what had happened to the others? I look around and soon realise I am still within the dismal walls of the city that keeps me up at night with its cascade of sound. I realise the reason I dreamed of escaping to the country again. It has been louder than ever here and many a restless night has snuck up upon my tired body. It all just gets too much at this time of year. All the drunks are roaming the streets ready and set for a fight with anyone who dare to give them the time of day. The sirens ring out with their sickening shouts to ell the world chaos or death has broken out. City death seems the most painful to watch on the television at night for it is either down to stupidity or someone else’s hatred. Yet saying this it is painful enough to see any death on the news or read it from the many different vast papers that are almost exact copies of each other. Life in the city is but a mere tedious lifestyle in which fools force their dreams only to get them shattered. The countryside is my calling, my sanctuary my home. This is weird coming from the lips and thoughts of a city child. Born in the hassling place of London I wished for nothing more than to move into the peaceful retreat of the southwest countryside. With its beautiful hills of green.
I remember listening to my mother telling me about the home she owns but doesn’t live in for it is an unreasonable place to live for a woman of her profession. She told me of all the wondrous people who used to live around her, who she grew up with. She told me about how she and the other kids her age used to go and hang out at the train station for kicks. I used to sit and listen to her tales but I never thought while I was sat on my bed aged four that this house would soon become my resolve, my little haven. The place to where I would escape the panic of the city and lead a quiet peaceful life that may only last for a few months but seems like a lifetime.
But I know fully well that this is not the only reason I long to be in the country side once more. The other reason is because of Justin. The one I found myself falling for last time I was there. Ever since he and I got on so well in the late spring of the previous year he and I have been talking to each other on the phone almost every night. He longs for me to go and visit him as much as I long to see him again and be within the grasps of the natural countryside. The one place I truly feel like I belong.
I heard fingers tap lightly on my wooden door. It was obvious from the quiet tap that my mother was about to enter my room. I must have been screaming in my sleep or something. I have done that a lot lately. It has been odd because I had the same dream repeatedly and I don’t understand what it is all about. “Sophie? Baby you awake?” says my mother with her sweet gentle voice. Nothing beats the sound of my mother’s voice. So gentle and caring yet informative and strong. I love listening to her voice especially when she reads on the radio. It sounds so wonderful. The way she portrays all the emotion of the characters from her books and the way she tells everyone through her voice who is talking and how they are feeling. My mother never thought much of herself when she was my age and all of her stories were just little stories that didn’t seem to mean much to her but they were her secret passion. When she met my father he encouraged her to go and get all of them published. So that she did and ever since she has been raking in success as a writer and my father has kept his job as an accountant. “Yeah mum I’m up.” I reply. She pokes her head around the door and looks at me with her big round brown eyes.
She walks in when she sees me sat up in bed. She sits right next to me on the bed. And places her hand on my cheek and rubs her thumb gentle across my cheek bone. She does this when she is comforting me or telling me some upsetting and important news. “Are you ok baby? You were screaming again. Was it the dream?” she inquires. I look deep into her eyes. I see all of her concern and all the worry. I nod. “I’m fine though mum, it wasn’t that bad. I am getting used to it. I just don’t understand it much.” She looks at me. She isn’t looking into my eyes. No she is looking into me. Using my eyes as a doorway to the me inside.
I am stood there in the tracks watching the engine come towards me at 200 miles an hour and I’m not scared I know what will happen once I get hit because I know that I will die, that no person could ever survive being hit at such a speed surely. I see the lights coming towards me, closer and closer, the tracks are rumbling beneath my feet making it unsteady for me to stand but I don’t budge, I refuse to allow the shaking to conquer my stance. This is not the stance of one who wished to die throughout her life no this was the stance of someone with no fear but the fear of carrying on alone. So I just stand there holding my ground knowing that soon I am going to become another one of those classified teens who took their own lives, but I will not be able to hear the names and things they will say about me because I will be gone, six foot underneath all of that chaos. I just stand there watching the beams coming closer to my statue of pain.
The rumble of the train beneath me is so loud, so annoying so awful. Not one moment of peace on this bloody thing. One minute the babies are crying the next the old woman behind me is complaining about the colour of the sky or something stupid like that. But now in this one moment of what I thought would be quiet I can hear nothing but the clicking of the train as it carries me and the many others to our next destination. I tap my fingers on the desk out of frustration. My head is resting on my right hand as the left taps. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap go my fingers as I stare blankly out of the window and the dull night countryside. “What’s that?” I hear a rather loud woman inquire to the man sat next to her. He must have shrugged because she just said oh and I didn’t hear him reply, not that I really care. All I want is peace of quiet and some alone time. I guess that was the whole point of this escape to the country trip. I hope mum isn’t too worried, well she can’t be she always understands when I have to go away I need to have space, something they never give me at home. I mean there is me, and then there is mum and her family and then dad and lily, dads weird work friend. All in the same house. I never get a moment of peace there so here I am again on the bloody train escaping to the little house my mother lived in years before I was born. I hope this time the guys will be around again they were great to me. I got on really well with them. All sixteen of us got on really well.
I look at the lights that are coming towards me and think of all of the people on the train so clueless of all the things that have happened in the world they are about to enter. I fear for them for they are going to be hit with shock when they find out they were on the train that is about to flatten me to death. I wonder if it will be on the news. I don’t want to be of any concern. This is my decision right? My life and my decided end to it. Seems fair if you ask me. I don’t see why I cannot take what is rightfully mine. The others did so now it is my turn right? Yeah I guess I am right. For once I feel so numb that I don’t actually give a flying fuck anymore. No one gave a sod about the others so what will make me any different? Well nothing I guess, well maybe the fact I am not from around here may well account for something. I shake my head. I have had enough time to think this through. I am not going to chicken out now. I cannot justify what I am about to do but I can justify that I am crazy.
I stare out of the window still blankly, not caring much for what is lying out there in the vast night. All I can think about is peace and quiet. I must be yearning for it very badly. It isn’t very often I beg for quiet but lately home has been so draining for me. There is nothing out there but the black of the night and the stirring creatures of the night.
Here it is, here it comes. Good bye world. Good bye life I lived and used to love. Good bye body.
The train brakes squeal as it slows down violently. I look around as my body slides forward in a slow motion. I see the scared faces. Everything is so blurry. Then my body slams hard against the table. I hit my head on it and I feel my organs travelling forward though my body has already hit the table in front. Everyone is silent. The baby isn’t screaming no one is moving no one is making a sound. I feel the blood drip down my face and onto the table. The glass from the window next to me is smashed and sticking in and out of my arm.
I wake up in a panic, panting for breath and sweating in a disarray of pain from my haunting dream, confusion and fear. Is that what could happen? And what had happened to the others? I look around and soon realise I am still within the dismal walls of the city that keeps me up at night with its cascade of sound. I realise the reason I dreamed of escaping to the country again. It has been louder than ever here and many a restless night has snuck up upon my tired body. It all just gets too much at this time of year. All the drunks are roaming the streets ready and set for a fight with anyone who dare to give them the time of day. The sirens ring out with their sickening shouts to ell the world chaos or death has broken out. City death seems the most painful to watch on the television at night for it is either down to stupidity or someone else’s hatred. Yet saying this it is painful enough to see any death on the news or read it from the many different vast papers that are almost exact copies of each other. Life in the city is but a mere tedious lifestyle in which fools force their dreams only to get them shattered. The countryside is my calling, my sanctuary my home. This is weird coming from the lips and thoughts of a city child. Born in the hassling place of London I wished for nothing more than to move into the peaceful retreat of the southwest countryside. With its beautiful hills of green.
I remember listening to my mother telling me about the home she owns but doesn’t live in for it is an unreasonable place to live for a woman of her profession. She told me of all the wondrous people who used to live around her, who she grew up with. She told me about how she and the other kids her age used to go and hang out at the train station for kicks. I used to sit and listen to her tales but I never thought while I was sat on my bed aged four that this house would soon become my resolve, my little haven. The place to where I would escape the panic of the city and lead a quiet peaceful life that may only last for a few months but seems like a lifetime.
But I know fully well that this is not the only reason I long to be in the country side once more. The other reason is because of Justin. The one I found myself falling for last time I was there. Ever since he and I got on so well in the late spring of the previous year he and I have been talking to each other on the phone almost every night. He longs for me to go and visit him as much as I long to see him again and be within the grasps of the natural countryside. The one place I truly feel like I belong.
I heard fingers tap lightly on my wooden door. It was obvious from the quiet tap that my mother was about to enter my room. I must have been screaming in my sleep or something. I have done that a lot lately. It has been odd because I had the same dream repeatedly and I don’t understand what it is all about. “Sophie? Baby you awake?” says my mother with her sweet gentle voice. Nothing beats the sound of my mother’s voice. So gentle and caring yet informative and strong. I love listening to her voice especially when she reads on the radio. It sounds so wonderful. The way she portrays all the emotion of the characters from her books and the way she tells everyone through her voice who is talking and how they are feeling. My mother never thought much of herself when she was my age and all of her stories were just little stories that didn’t seem to mean much to her but they were her secret passion. When she met my father he encouraged her to go and get all of them published. So that she did and ever since she has been raking in success as a writer and my father has kept his job as an accountant. “Yeah mum I’m up.” I reply. She pokes her head around the door and looks at me with her big round brown eyes.
She walks in when she sees me sat up in bed. She sits right next to me on the bed. And places her hand on my cheek and rubs her thumb gentle across my cheek bone. She does this when she is comforting me or telling me some upsetting and important news. “Are you ok baby? You were screaming again. Was it the dream?” she inquires. I look deep into her eyes. I see all of her concern and all the worry. I nod. “I’m fine though mum, it wasn’t that bad. I am getting used to it. I just don’t understand it much.” She looks at me. She isn’t looking into my eyes. No she is looking into me. Using my eyes as a doorway to the me inside.
Total Comments 5
Comments
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One word: Paragraphs.
I'll read it when there are some. lolPosted 02-07-10 at 01:16 PM by Antigone
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wow! i would love to read more.Posted 03-07-10 at 03:07 AM by invadertim
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you are a talented writerPosted 06-07-10 at 09:54 PM by littlehorndog
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on the orginal on my computer word processor there are paragraphs but they got cut out when i copied and pastedQuote:Originally Posted by Marietta
One word: Paragraphs.
I'll read it when there are some. lolPosted 10-07-10 at 12:51 PM by cheekybit
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and thanks guys who read it, i'm glad ya liked it (if you did that is lol
Posted 10-07-10 at 12:52 PM by cheekybit
Today's Toppers
