Train Station

[number one]

// Faye \\

I love train rides. I love sitting there, knees up against my chest, eyes closed, just listening to the movement of the train. Occasionally, I like having the window open, and letting the wind comb through my hair. I just love it.

I ride the train to my university, in New York, where I study photography. There's no university that teaches that in my small village, so, on weekdays, I take a two hour train ride to New York. I wish it could be longer.

I live with my twin brother in an apartment; we don't live with our parents because they say that we are old enough to live on our own, and my brother, Caleb, isn't ready to find a partner and live with them, yet. Quite unusual that I live alone, with my brother, rather than my parents, is it not?

Caleb works as a postman - it doesn't pay much, but it gives us enough money to supply ourselves with the basic needs. We don't really have money problems. We're okay.

Every weekday, I head off to my university, by train. It's what I always look forward to.

This particular weekday was a Friday. The last weekday of the week - which means no train rides tomorrow.

I arrived at the station, Deloria Station, at six in the morning, from my apartment.

Then, I see the usual sight - most of the silver metal benches are not taken up by people; it's really early, and in my town people aren't fond of riding trains. The concrete floor is scattered with dried pieces of gum, that have dissolved to become a part of the ground itself. There is just a small desk to buy your ticket, with departure and arrival times on a small screen; nothing much. I bought my ticket to New York, and the train would depart in twenty minutes.

I entered the main area, to wait for a train, and I could see the railway tracks in the centre. They weren't safe, in fact, they were rusty and looked like they were going to break any second. But that was what made me like the train rides. The sound wasn't extremely pleasant, but it was enough to make me think that I'm home, with my parents, in the city.

Honestly, I know my parents dislike Caleb and I. We were adopted by them at the age of two. Celeb and I know that my parents only have us to boast to their friends - about how they are the best, most caring parents ever. I beg to differ.

I sat on another one of those metal benches, and looked around. There was only one person - an old man, whom I assumed to be Warren, the man who lives approximately six doors away from me, reading a newspaper, The Jolly Good Times. There was no one else, and to be fair, I wasn't surprised. I quite liked it, too, seeing as on the trains, I wasn't disturbed, what with the only other people on the trains are most likely old or keep to themselves.

After ten minutes, I saw someone arrive from the ticket desk. It was a male, who looked around my age. I was surprised, because the only other people around my age in my town are girls who don't interact with me - ever. He was looking down at his train ticket, then to the side, as if waiting for the train. The boy had a mop of curly, brown-slash-blonde hair on his head, and brown eyes - I wasn't staring, I swear, the boy just looked to the side of me, again, past the railway tracks, and I took a glimpse of his eyes.

I'd never seen him here before; not in the train station, not in the town, not ever. It was unusual, and the only people that took a train from Deloria Station were regulars. This guy was mysterious.

And I want to know more.

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ok so that's the first chapter? yeh? ok theeennnnnn. hope you like it! and, just saying, these chapters will be kinda short, as I want them to be like that! dedicated to @sweetnuthing for the amazing cover. thank you.