The Midnight Train [DISCONTINUED]

First Glimpse

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Dedicated to RiceballLoverk3 for being my first fan :)

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Chapter 1 – First Glimpse

Carrie

“One ticket to the City, please.”

I did another scan of the area, fumbling, fidgeting and feeling rather agitated. I’ve never felt so vulnerable until now – standing there alone with only my favourite red duffel bag. It was a quarter to twelve (11.45pm) and I was impatiently waiting for a train at the interstate train station.

“M’am,” the scruffy, old man looked up from his computer screen, lowering his chain-linked spectacles. His saggy, wrinkled face hardly showed any sign of expression, though you can tell from the scrunching of his bushy, grey eyebrows and the purse of his tight lips that the man was suffering from fatigue and frustration. “There is only one available train left. It goes to –”

Hurriedly, wanting to get on a train as soon as possible, I cut the old man off in mid-sentence, “Um, when does this train arrive?”

Narrowing his eyes, the old man squinted at the screen, “At the stroke of midnight, m’am.”

“Ugh, great,” I exclaimed, not really meaning it, “Can I get a ticket for that train, then?”

I shivered as a gust of wind blustered past me. It was a rather chilly night, a month or so away from winter. I turned to draw a blue hoodie from my bag and draped it over my thin, checked, burgundy and black shirt.

“Pardon me, m’am, but this train is travelling to –”

Running away seemed easier in my head, I thought, sighing. “Uh, mister. I don’t really have time to wait, you see, and I would really like to get a ticket... like, now.”

“Very well, m’am,” the old man sighed, and bent down from the ticket booth to get my ticket.

Meanwhile, being as paranoid as I was, I scanned the train station, yet again. It appeared as deserted as it was five minutes ago, save for said staff. I breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the hood over my loose, messy braid that leaned over towards my left shoulder.

“Here you go, m’am,” the old man said, handing me the ticket.

Thank you, I mouthed and made my way to one of the empty wooden benches to wait. I dumped my bag next to me and pulled my sleeve up, revealing my classic, leather-strap watch. It was eleven to twelve [11.49pm], another eleven minutes of waiting.  The bench was hard, cold and really uncomfortable so I stood up and started pacing.

The train station was old and dingy, and during the day, was almost as deserted as it was now, except for the occasional passenger. The veranda roof I paced under was covered in rust, though the staff try and clean it every once in a while.  I’ve never ever been to the train station, even during the day, but now, with only a few oil lamps burning brightly (yes, oil lamps, that’s how rustic this place is), the station seemed eerily quiet and I couldn’t help but wonder how the old man copes every night.

I pulled out the silver pendant from under my collar. It was from Aileen. I admired the simplicity and elegance of the design. The oval pendant opened up to a photo of us and I was sorry that I would have to leave my best friend behind. The picture was taken on New Year’s and it showed Aileen and her blonde curls bouncing everywhere, her arm over my shoulder and mine over hers as we both flashed a smile.

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that everything changed only this afternoon.

~*~

Everything started because today’s actually my 16th birthday. Normally, people would throw massive parties and celebrate it as their ‘Sweet Sixteen’ or something, but for me, I was becoming one step closer to being an adult and free from the enclosure I’ve had all my life because of my parents’ over-protectiveness. I couldn’t blame them, but when you’ve never attended a party; not even your best friend’s and you’ve never held one of your own, you really start to wonder.