I used to write a lot when I was a kid, pouring my heart onto paper as a teenager. Writing was my passion. Reading was my escape. But then, I became an adult, and life got in the way. I moved out of my little town and into the big city, chasing new dreams and leaving old ones behind.

Years later, while visiting my parents' house, I found it. There it was, in a box, tucked away in the closet of my teenage bedroom: Train Tracks. A story I started writing when I was 15. Along with all my diaries. And the buried secrets. Just scattered pieces of the story-scraps of papers, notes in journals.

I moved away all those years ago to escape that world, to leave it behind. Every street, every corner, every crack in the pavement carried memories I wasn't ready to face. The weight of it all lingered in the air, a ghost that refused to be exorcised. I thought I could outrun it, that life in the big city would drown it out.

I wanted to close that box and never open it again, to bury it forever, to keep it a secret. All of us did. We swore to leave it behind, to let the train tracks and the memories fade into the past, swallowed by time. But secrets have a way of resurfacing, like whispers carried on the wind, impossible to ignore. And some stories... they demand to be told.

Today, I feel inspired to try to complete it, fill in the gaps, and share the story.

There's a part of me that feels compelled to tell this story-not just for the world to read, but to honor the kids who ruled the train tracks like it was their own hidden kingdom.

Train Tracks is inspired by true events and real-life experiences. But while certain elements are based on actual people, places, and moments, names, details, and some events have been altered or fictionalized for narrative purposes.