Esther - Part Two

 Esther - Part two 

The train pulled sluggishly to a halt alongside a dark platform. It was one of those without a station attached, just a big ledge of concrete next to the track. This place seemed right. I got up and made my way to the door, rubbing my eyes. I swiped a half-eaten sandwich from an empty table on my way past, and shoved it in my hoody pocket. I hadn’t eaten properly for days, and I had used the last of my money to buy the ticket. I didn’t know what lay in store for me, but anything was better than where I’d come from.

    I trudged along the platform and weaved my way around the rails till I found the exit. Walking down a narrow, stony path I looked around me, taking in the surroundings. It was dark, there was no one around. No one, except for the moon, which stood sturdy up ahead, peering over the edge of heaven, lighting the sky. Millions of tiny LED lights dotted the sky. I stood still and tilted my head all the way back so I was staring straight up. That way, all I could see were the stars. The sky looked like a dome like that, like in a planetarium. It didn’t look real. 

    I kept walking until I found a narrow lane, half tarmac, half dirt. It seemed perfect. I plodded along, shivering underneath my coat, my arms tingling. My teeth nattered away, smacking against each other as I walked under the glittered sky. Out here I could smell the dampness underfoot but the rain had thankfully stopped and my hair was drying. I zig-zagged through narrow and windy lanes taking turnings out of instinct and without really thinking of where I was going. I neared the edge of the small town and found pleasant little houses, almost fairy tale-like, scattered among open green fields. The little plastic people that lived there, I decided, loved life. They were happy, simple people, who had no troubles. At least I hoped that, for their sake. That was the life I had given them. 

    That was the problem with my mind; I couldn’t imagine that anyone ever felt the way I did. I was different, an enigma, a paradox. Broken, and dysfunctional. 

    As I walked the houses became fewer, and farm out-buildings became frequent. The strong scent of manure filled my nostrils, I could tell I had it caked over my shoes as well. I kept walking, wanting to be far away from any residents, through fields and down narrow lanes lined with low gap-toothed walls. I told myself I was walking to the moon, and let my mind drift as my feet padded along, stepping over styles and mole hills. Eventually, the warble of running water got louder with every step and a small bridge, wide enough for one car, appeared in front of me. Taking a right I walked down the bank by the bridge, and down to the babbled water’s edge. I filled up the bottle from my rucksack and flicked cold droplets over my face and hair. I hadn’t showered for well over a week now. I couldn’t smell myself anymore, but I felt groggy, and sticky, and stained. Yawning, I became aware of how tired I was. Late nights had always been my thing, but I did need to sleep. I scrutinised the bridge and tried to spot a place to stay. Under the bridge was a small area between the wall and the river, the dried mud underneath was cracked, like a map in the ground. I’d slept in worse places. 

    I fished my anorak out of my rucksack and pulled it round myself, and using my rucksack as a pillow, I curled up and let the babble of the water send me to sleep.

Here it is: part two!! I've been editing this story as I reread what 18 year old me wrote. It's really lovely going back to read what I wrote before any creative writing training. Old me loved a comma splice, not that I don't accidentally still do them now, and starting sentences with 'But'. But (!), there's something really nice about leaving a piece for a while and coming back to it. Hopefully, by posting these snippets on my blog I'll actually get round to finishing my first novel! So, thank you, younger me, for starting this story, I hope I do it justice!

Ellen Victoria