The Train To Nowhere

chapter 1 - the first day

My alarm sounded and immediately after, my heart sped up and the uncomfortable shock of being forcefully woken slammed through my body. Seconds later, I was rolling over on to my side and punching the snooze button for a highly welcomed extra ten minutes.

'BRRRRINNNG!'

The hateful noise blared and I groaned, my arms escaping the comforting warmth of the duvet to reach for the alarm again. But before I could press the snooze button, the door opened and more light spilled into my bedroom other than the source from the cracks in the curtain that were shining dimly over the floor in thin, golden shadows. I squinted in that direction and saw my little sister standing in the doorway. Her hair was messy and sticking out in her massive afro that was largely out of proportion with the rest of her body and face. Her expression was disgruntled and irritated as she stood there like a silhouette against the warm morning sun.

"Get. Up." Her voice was impatient and curt.

"Ugh, piss off Zara," I moaned, rolling the other way round to face the wall. Why was she always annoying? Like it could literally be the end of the world and she could still be moaning at me to do something or other. She was only thirteen but she sounded worse than Mum.

"No. I'm not leaving until you get up."

When I didn't respond, she simply continued to nag. "Abel, I am sick of hearing that stupid alarm go 'bring! bring! bring' every five minutes when you can't be bothered to get off your arse and get ready for school."

"Ugh, cut me some slack," I grumbled, "It's the first day back for fuck's sake."

"Stop swearing! And it doesn't matter that it's the first day. It happened every day last year and the year before that and the year before that."

"If you don't stop nagging I will throw this pillow at you. I'm not afraid to give you a serious head injury."

"Oh yeah? With a bag of feathers?"

My eyes were fully open now and I'd turned back to face her.

"You want to test that theory?" I replied, beginning to feel royally pissed off.

"Yeah! You know what, I do."

I stretched and yawned, flexing my toes and rubbing my eyes. Zara leaned on the frame of the doorway in a dopey stance, expecting nothing less of me. She had another thing coming. Catching her off guard, I leapt out of bed and swung the pillow right at her face. She stumbled back as I whacked her again, and by the third time she had put her hands out in front of her face to protect herself I heard Mum's tired call from downstairs.

"Abel! Are you up? What's all that noise? Zara?"

Mum sleeps downstairs on the second floor, and the thumping of our feet on the floorboards must have been loud. I ignored her but Zara called down, "Yeah, Mum! He's up!"

But as she called she had dropped her hands back to her sides, making way for me to accomplish my fatal blow. I lifted the pillow up high and she rapidly raised her arms to defend herself again, but I smacked it down on her leg and she pushed me forcefully away from her. But her strength was weak compared to mine. She was a thirteen-year-old girl and I was a six foot two sixteen-year-old. She was no match for me.

"Okay, okay! ABEL STOP! I'm going to get dressed. You're up now anyway though. That's what matters."

"You did this just to get me out of bed? You wound me up on purpose!" I exclaimed (my voice had been rising in volume as the realisation sunk in).