The Boy Who Talks To Cats

Trains Ruin Childhoods

The train station was packed with thousands of bodies huddling together. People with bags, suitcases, or nothing at all filled every corner. Some people were lousy and lazy with their speed, while others seemed be walking like they had somewhere to be. Accents of all kinds filled the large station and the bustling conversations were loud. It was hard to even breathe, to have an inch of space. Even harder with the heavy backpack that laid on my back. I was too short to see even above anyone's waist, I was hopeless. My head turned from side to side as I tried to look for a place to escape, people were pushing me all over as I tried to remain still. The large map that showed directions out of this mess was surrounded. It was like a sea of people you had to go through, just to view a quarter of it. No, that wouldn't be my best option if I wanted to figure out an escape. So, instead, I ran. I r an past the trains, the people, away from the overwhelming noise. I completely forgot about the people I came with. I forgot that my family had brought me back home from a ski vacation in the mountains, I just ran. I was sort of that type of child anyway- I ran off a lot, but it was different now. That day it was extremely different. There was too many people for them to catch me, it wasn't the empty fields of land surrounding our house, it was the overly packed train station an hour away from our lot.

Maybe if I weren't so stupid that day I would have became a normal citizen of society. Like everyone else- I mean I was only in a pre-school then, but I listened rather well. The small assignments we obtained at the end of the day for homely work was completed and given the equivalent to an A+ each time. I was smart, that was for sure. I wasn't even nerdy or anything either, so people weren't afraid to talk to me. I didn't have the weird glasses, I had 20/20 vision. I knew perfect small talk and understood what was too much to say and what was too little to say. I talked well with adults and people I wasn't even that close to, I understood the difference between a friend and a best friend. I was scoring rather high and as the only son- well my parents were pleased with me. I didn't go on tangents, I didn't ramble. However I wasn't really shy. Though I wasn't the opposite, also known as overly confident and cocky. I was just an in-between that people could thoroughly enjoy speaking with. Even with the few activities I did, and not being in the largest of pre-schools, I had a group of group of friends that was large. None of them spoke poorly of me or tried to do stupid things whether if they were a child or not. My life was honestly peaceful.

At the house I was the same way, I spoke a bit more there since it was my parents and sister. I wasn't moody, I only cried when I had to and usually I just voiced what I needed. I didn't ever need anything 'right now', I just made sure I got what I needed eventually and at a convenient time for my parents. I would try to read the littlest things I could, sometimes try to practice what I read writing wise. I wasn't that good though, but it made my parents proud since I was an early achiever. If I wasn't focusing on my smaller studies, I played and ran in the surrounding fields we had. If needed my parents would give me minuscule chores to do and I'd conduct them as instructed.

God, my life was perfectly boring. Perfectly simple.

That day I decided to ruin it all, open a can of worms I truly didn't deserve. My parents would have eventually caught me the day I ran in panic at a bustling train station, but it was too late. I ran onto the tracks as a train came, the train came to a stop and I was barely ran over. However I had hit my head hard on the front of the train and broken a bone or two.

You might assume I must've been pretty lucky - but honestly death would have been a better option than what followed.