ffgoldensun
04-02-2008, 02:37 AM
(the topic is Childhood Memories. Can someone suggest a title?
This IS a true story about myself :P
Only sincere comments plz)
The gleaming silver train comes gliding to a stop. The afternoon sun bounces off the shiny doors as they slide open with a hydraulic hiss. I step off the platform and onto the train. I gaze out towards the platform as the double doors slide close. But I do not see any familiar faces smiling back at me, unlike so long ago.
We walked a familiar path towards the train station. We chatted and we laughed as we passed a stony alleyway, turned right at the main road, and turned left at the roundabout. We strayed into a fish and chips shop to buy a packet of chips and a can of Mountain Dew. After several flights of stairs, we retreated to our usual resting place. Under the steel supports of the concrete stairs, we shared our chips, even to those who had their own, and occassionally, we also shared drinks. We passed the time by chatting and laughing about nothing much at all. Sometimes, we even did silly things like chasing each other and spraying water from our drink bottles. It was these silly things, however, which made it so memorable.
As the train rolled to a halt, we climed aboard and smiled and waved goodbye at those who did not accompany us. As the train jolted to a start, we would already be continuing our chat about nothing much at all. The scenery which passed outside was nothing but a blur of blue, green and grey. Time seemed to pass so quicky, as two stops later, it was my turn to get off. I turned back towards the train and smiled and waved goodbye as my friends continued on their journey. As the train left, I hopped down the steps of my platform two at a time, and strolled home.
For two years, this was routine. Apart from, perhaps, a few minor changes such as the addition of some schoolmates and some others going overseas, as well as the road works outside the fish and chips shop in the second year.
As the end of the second year loomed ahead, a tinge of sadness crept over me. Until then, I did not realise that my train riding days with my good friends were numbered.
As the days counted down, I paid more attention to my surroundings. The steel support framework was brown-black. Within the square framework was a patch of bare soil. Between the cracks of the slabs of concrete which made up the platform were grass and weed and clover and daisies. Thirty centimetres from either side of the platform was a yellow line which ran from end to end. Enclosing the platform and the railway tracks were iron fences. And beyond that, bitumen roads, run-down buildings and a scatter of greenery. The light blue shirts and the grey trousers (or dark blue skirts) distinguished our school from its environment. I strived to etch into my memory all their expressions, least I forget. Their jubilance and carefreeness; their worry and anxiety; their anger and frustration.
On the last day, there cannot be enough goodbyes and well-wishes, even those who were not friends joined in. I wished that the train would be late, but it came in on time, surprisingly. As I bade my final farewells, I boarded my train. Some good friends accompanied me, even if they did not usually take that train.
Two stops later, I found myself standing on the platform, alone. I smiled and waved at my friends who smiled and waved back, for the last time. I stood there until the train became only a speck in the distance. I thought about the times that I have had with them over the two years. I held back a tear as I recalled the good times. But our paths separated on that day. Painfully, I realised I did not know whether I will see them again, ever. I turned around on the deserted platform and made my way slowly down the steps, one by one, and trudged home.
This IS a true story about myself :P
Only sincere comments plz)
The gleaming silver train comes gliding to a stop. The afternoon sun bounces off the shiny doors as they slide open with a hydraulic hiss. I step off the platform and onto the train. I gaze out towards the platform as the double doors slide close. But I do not see any familiar faces smiling back at me, unlike so long ago.
We walked a familiar path towards the train station. We chatted and we laughed as we passed a stony alleyway, turned right at the main road, and turned left at the roundabout. We strayed into a fish and chips shop to buy a packet of chips and a can of Mountain Dew. After several flights of stairs, we retreated to our usual resting place. Under the steel supports of the concrete stairs, we shared our chips, even to those who had their own, and occassionally, we also shared drinks. We passed the time by chatting and laughing about nothing much at all. Sometimes, we even did silly things like chasing each other and spraying water from our drink bottles. It was these silly things, however, which made it so memorable.
As the train rolled to a halt, we climed aboard and smiled and waved goodbye at those who did not accompany us. As the train jolted to a start, we would already be continuing our chat about nothing much at all. The scenery which passed outside was nothing but a blur of blue, green and grey. Time seemed to pass so quicky, as two stops later, it was my turn to get off. I turned back towards the train and smiled and waved goodbye as my friends continued on their journey. As the train left, I hopped down the steps of my platform two at a time, and strolled home.
For two years, this was routine. Apart from, perhaps, a few minor changes such as the addition of some schoolmates and some others going overseas, as well as the road works outside the fish and chips shop in the second year.
As the end of the second year loomed ahead, a tinge of sadness crept over me. Until then, I did not realise that my train riding days with my good friends were numbered.
As the days counted down, I paid more attention to my surroundings. The steel support framework was brown-black. Within the square framework was a patch of bare soil. Between the cracks of the slabs of concrete which made up the platform were grass and weed and clover and daisies. Thirty centimetres from either side of the platform was a yellow line which ran from end to end. Enclosing the platform and the railway tracks were iron fences. And beyond that, bitumen roads, run-down buildings and a scatter of greenery. The light blue shirts and the grey trousers (or dark blue skirts) distinguished our school from its environment. I strived to etch into my memory all their expressions, least I forget. Their jubilance and carefreeness; their worry and anxiety; their anger and frustration.
On the last day, there cannot be enough goodbyes and well-wishes, even those who were not friends joined in. I wished that the train would be late, but it came in on time, surprisingly. As I bade my final farewells, I boarded my train. Some good friends accompanied me, even if they did not usually take that train.
Two stops later, I found myself standing on the platform, alone. I smiled and waved at my friends who smiled and waved back, for the last time. I stood there until the train became only a speck in the distance. I thought about the times that I have had with them over the two years. I held back a tear as I recalled the good times. But our paths separated on that day. Painfully, I realised I did not know whether I will see them again, ever. I turned around on the deserted platform and made my way slowly down the steps, one by one, and trudged home.