The Train To Nowhere

chapter 5 - sunrise nostalgia

I think I'd eventually drifted off like Phil and Nina had when Noah shook me awake. It wasn't dawn, but the sky was now a dusty lilac, undoubtedly an hour or so til sunrise. My head was aching, my bladder was bursting and my whole body felt racked with an aching tiredness. I longed for my warm, soft bed at home and to sink into its cosiness, cocooning myself in the sheets and resting my head on a soft pillow. It seemed like a faraway dream. In actual fact it was a fifteen minute walk, but even that sounded as exhausting as climbing Mount Everest.

It had been hard to wake Phil up. He'd slept through about three hours of our camping, having drunk himself into dreamland. It was only when Isaac yelled in his face and Nina kicked him so hard I swear she could have broken his leg that he finally sat up in a state of anger.

We climbed down the ladder on the side of the tree house til we reached the grass below. Phil was the last down and so closed the door and turned off the lights behind him after having packed almost everything into his Mountain Warehouse bag. We all helped clear up our rubbish from the house, as there was so much of it. After I'd stepped down on to ground, I briskly walked away to a tree well out of the way of the group to take a leak behind. I already felt a grand relief afterwards, but it still felt like I was dragging my tired body across the forest to get home when we'd left and locked up the tree house. Noah, Rosie and I could barely speak as we walked together out of the woods. Isaac and Priya, and then Phil, Nina and Ahmed were behind us, but it was too exhausting alone to manage it. As we walked in silence I wondered why we hadn't actually just decided to stay back and sleep in the tree house overnight. I'd done it before with Isaac and Noah, but I guess we hadn't really told our parents we'd be doing that, and it wasn't that spacious and comfy for eight fully grown teenagers to sleep in.

It would have been easier though. Noah checked his watch and told us all it was ten-to-five in the morning. I yawned. We all groaned as the torches flashed across the ominous wood. Not exhausted enough to feel a little scared, but not quite aware enough to care if we heard the odd crack of a twig in the distance. Not like I had been yesterday afternoon anyway.

It just kept getting lighter. Slowly and steadily, but lighter still. We'd had to stop a couple times on our journey because Ahmed needed a pee too and Isaac threw up. None of us wanted to be alone in the dark forest and have to catch up with the group, or the possibility of losing us, especially at this time of night.

When we finally split our separate ways, it was Nina and Priya who left first. Then Ahmed, who lived right on the outskirts of the town, then Noah, and finally Isaac. We waited with him for a bit until his bus came, and then Rosie and I were left alone to wonder through the shadowy streets of Woodshire Town together. Everything looked like it was washed in dust at this hour, like twilight. We both didn't talk much on the walk back to our street either, but having her company made me feel less alone and on edge. Our town wasn't particularly dodgy anyway. An English countryside town in the middle of nowhere but right where we all grew up and somewhere we all knew. And something I've learnt about living in a town/city. No matter which part you live in, everything feels more different at night. Like a different world almost. One that's quiet, dark and oddly peaceful, when you don't have to check over your shoulder.

It was like we had the whole town to ourselves on the walk back. Not a soul was outside, and almost every window had curtains drawn and lights off. The town was asleep even if the amber streetlights lit up our suburbia like daytime. And I felt a strange awe of it all.

"Don't you think it's so cool?" said Rosie, not daring to keep her voice down. It echoed against the opposite row of houses and I turned my head about to look around, and then back to her. "I mean, this time of night everything is so - still. I can pretend I own the whole town."

"I know," I muttered back. "That's just what I was thinking."

"I'll bet you Zara's still binging YouTube when you get back."

"You think? She's only thirteen." I smiled.

"Being thirteen doesn't count for anything. I know 'cause I used to do it when I was her age. Still do. All those hours of hiding under the duvet re-watching episode after episode on Netflix and listening to Nirvana."
"Oh my God, yes!" I laughed, despite my overwhelming tiredness. Rosie always knew how to make me laugh though. "I remember those times. I'd beg you to play anything but Nirvana. I hate rock music."
"Ugh, you haven't lived!" she exclaimed. "One of our only unshared dislikes."

Suddenly we were thirteen again, full of energy and reminiscing on our past sleepovers and parties and stuff. My eyelids felt as heavy as a sack of flour but inside I was filled with this happy nostalgia. I missed the times where I could go round to Rosie's and just chat and laugh and hang out together and have it mean nothing. I mean, it doesn't mean anything now other than quality friendship time - but some spark is dampened when you grow into teenagers. As in, we wouldn't be able to comfortably share a bed and hug each other nervously while eating popcorn over classic horror movies now. She's still just as close to me as a friend, but well - it's sometimes hard to admit we've grown up from that point in many ways.

"I didn't hate all of your music," I argued.

"Yeah you did!"

"Only the hardcore, heavy metal shit you blasted. I liked..."

"What? What did you like?" she asked, in a challenging but also curious and teasing way. I could see her smiling out of the corner of my eye as I hung my head. "Come on, tell me!"

"Well, I mean - like, I liked David Bowie kinda-"

"Really?" she said excitedly, "David Bowie?"

"Yeah, but only a few of his songs!" I quickly responded defensively.

"Which ones?" Rosie sounded ecstatic that I genuinely enjoyed any part of her taste in music. We were rounding the corner at the end of our street now, and I was exhausted but still slightly sad our conversation would soon be over.

"Life On Mars...and Young American."

"Really? Oh, yes! I love Young American!" It seemed I had only spurred on her chatter. But she was just so surprised I was taking interest in anything other than Hip Hop. Music wasn't as much of a part of my life as it was for Rosie. Her life basically revolved around music. "My favourite album by David Bowie is that one!"

"And - okay, I guess I did like Heroes when you played it for me."

"Oh my God. If you don't like Heroes, who are you?" she exclaimed. "That song gives me chills just thinking about it!"

It was so fun to chat with her. Even just the two of us. We understood each other so well, and when we talked we just bounced off each other. She was the chattier one, but I loved listening, and she made it feel like she really cared about my opinion. She was always modest.

But we'd reached the outside of our houses now. Rosie was my neighbour, and her dad and my mum had been firm friends since university, so it was cool that they'd moved next to each other. I always remembered her house as the one with the yellow door. It was a buttercup shade of yellow - not obnoxious - but soft and mellow, like the sun slowly rising over the horizon. In the dusky shadow of the early morning though, it stood out like autumn leaves on a rainy day. My house door was a plain grey, so it contrasted with hers almost comically.

"Well, I guess this is where I say 'see you tomorrow!'" said Rosie chirpily, but she yawned afterwards. The golden glow of sun that was peaking over the ground now was lighting up her face in an angelic golden wash. I smiled.

"See you tomorrow," I replied, and she smiled. I rubbed my eyes, and we waved goodbye between the fences of our two front gardens, before disappearing into our houses and falling into our warm, soft beds.