The ride was bumpy. From the minute I stepped on the train it didn't stop rattling. The compartment floor shook so badly I could never maintain a balance. Right, left, fall, stand, sit, crash. I held on to impossible handholds that weren't made for holding, and tried my best to brace myself for the long ride.
There was an accident. The train crashed into a stop. I was knocked off my feet, and thrust into a wall. I woke up, dazed and bruised. The lights were flickering madly. I dragged myself ahead, trying to find a way out of the broken mess. The floor was covered with picture frames. I kept getting distracted. They were pictures of all the sights I'd been too busy to see. Everything was reduced to nothing, except those pictures. I stayed amidst the rubble and stared at what passed.
I hobbled out of the train. We'd crashed into a station. But it was empty. There wasn't a soul around. I found a phone, but the line was dead. I found a door, but the handle wouldn't turn. I found a train schedule, there were trains scheduled to stop by. I would wait and get on the next one. I would sit and lick my wounds until a train comes.
Time passes. The station is eerily empty. It's full of shadowy ghosts that lurk around. It's abandoned. It's condemned. It's haunted by its past. Time crawls by as I huddle in a corner. I hold my broken bones and sit and wait. The light is slowly dying out. Night is coming. The shadows are getting thicker. There's more of them. I'm filled with fear.
No trains stop by. I look for exits until my broken bones ache more than I can take but I keep looking. I find none. I am stuck. It's my waylay station. It's where I'm meant to sit and wait and think. It's where I realize that the train never shook. I was the one that could never stand still. I couldn't handle the ride. I wobbled and hobbled on steady floor. I crashed the train. And now, now I must suffer and wait.
There was an accident. The train crashed into a stop. I was knocked off my feet, and thrust into a wall. I woke up, dazed and bruised. The lights were flickering madly. I dragged myself ahead, trying to find a way out of the broken mess. The floor was covered with picture frames. I kept getting distracted. They were pictures of all the sights I'd been too busy to see. Everything was reduced to nothing, except those pictures. I stayed amidst the rubble and stared at what passed.
I hobbled out of the train. We'd crashed into a station. But it was empty. There wasn't a soul around. I found a phone, but the line was dead. I found a door, but the handle wouldn't turn. I found a train schedule, there were trains scheduled to stop by. I would wait and get on the next one. I would sit and lick my wounds until a train comes.
Time passes. The station is eerily empty. It's full of shadowy ghosts that lurk around. It's abandoned. It's condemned. It's haunted by its past. Time crawls by as I huddle in a corner. I hold my broken bones and sit and wait. The light is slowly dying out. Night is coming. The shadows are getting thicker. There's more of them. I'm filled with fear.
No trains stop by. I look for exits until my broken bones ache more than I can take but I keep looking. I find none. I am stuck. It's my waylay station. It's where I'm meant to sit and wait and think. It's where I realize that the train never shook. I was the one that could never stand still. I couldn't handle the ride. I wobbled and hobbled on steady floor. I crashed the train. And now, now I must suffer and wait.
