Going Nowhere Train

Reflection

After ten minutes, we enter a tunnel. Instead of staring at fields, I find myself staring at my own reflection. I'm well built, with shoulder length dark brown hair and chubby cheeks. Average height, average stature. An average girl. Like almost everyone else, I'm wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Or at least that's what it looks like. Underneath my baggy trousers and hoodie are layers and layers of other clothes, making me sweat. Everyone knew that we were going away. Maybe I was the only one who realised how long we were going for.

A few months ago the entire of England was told that everyone under seventeen and over ten would be sent away, via train. Today, the time came for us to leave. I wish in knew why thousands of us had to be evacuated, like little birds you could send away. Through breadcrumbs and we all start flapping. At least knowing why we were being separated would dull the pain of leaving. I've lost track of the terry faces I can see in this carriage.

As I look at my reflection I see one more thing, a flash of blue. It takes me a minute to remember that I'm wearing the back pack i was giving at the edge of the station by a blank-faced adult. The last one I'll see for god knows how long. Peering around, I start to notice that some kids are looking through them, one group trading torches between each other. Pressing myself against the door in order not to elbow anyone, I unzip the outside and sort through the content.

My heart plummets, and a wave of sickness passes through me.

Inside the pack pack are pieces of equipment you would use in camping. Torches. Batteries. Even pathetically short pocket knives, incredibly flimsy. They don't want us to be part of any civilisation. They're packing us off as if we're going to live in the wild. Calming myself, I make a mental list of everything I have. One sleeping bag. A pack away sleeping pillow. A torch. Four batteries. A really, really useless pocket knife. There's even a compass. Underneath the sleeping bag I find tins of food. Tins and tins. And a medical kit, with antiseptic cream.

I wonder if anyone else has noticed their small supply of food. Four tins of baked beens won't last anyone more than a week, even at a stretch. At the side is a pocket with a tiny water bottle. Empty. I really want to hug who ever had the idea of giving us completely useless equipment. Yes, I want to hug them. With a rope. Around the neck.

The last hour of the journey I spend starring into the darkness. When we finally see daylight again, murmurs pass through my carriage. Blinking, I see that the flat fields I'm used to have been replaced with hills and clusters of pine forests. People start gasping and whispering as houses race at us from the distance. It's as if we're entering a huge city, as the buildings are starting to become more and more close together. I still can't see any more people. I only start to get really excited when the train starts to slow down.

"Thank God for that! I'm practically wetting myself!" This comment brings a few snickers, and I laugh along with them. We've been shipped away from civilisation, abandoned and expected to survive knowing nothing, but at least we have have one sarcastic joker. We all pile off the train in one disorganised mess, spreading out along the platform. We're all standing around, as if someone's about to magically appear and give us instructions. Above the few convos actions that are being held, I hear another train in the distance. Great, more children to deal with.
As the second group disembark, someone starts shouting and pointing. I gasp.

We're in Scotland. Edinburgh train station.