Just a story that I did for English, it's not to do with mcr, but I'm really proud of it, so please read it!
The train drew in, stopping next to the platform. It automatically opened its doors, and I picked up my bag and joined the masses of people shuffling onto the train. As I was about to embark, a man, about 20 or so, bumped into me, knocking my bag from my hand.
"Oh, sorry! Are you ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." I grumbled, hoping no-one had noticed.
We both bent down to pick up my bag at the same time, but he reached it first. After checking it over, he gave it back to me, apologised again, and promptly disappeared into the crowds. Ignoring the angry mutters of the morning commuters, I walked on to the train and found myself a seat in a quiet corner of the last carriage. Placing my bag on the seat next to me, I curled up and fell asleep.
As I slept, I dreamed. I dreamed of running from large spiders that were going to wrap me up in a silk cocoon and devour me, I dreamed of a large, white snowy landscape, where I was slowly driven mad by the sheer silence and loneliness of it all, and, of course, I had my usual recurring dream of my father catching me and taking me away.
I had been having this dream since I was about 6, and my father had taken a sudden... interest in me. It had started off with the occasional rub on the back if I did something well, or a hug that lasted longer than I felt comfortable with, but it soon developed into more... Needless to say, I became terrified of my father, and I was very thankful when he and my mother split up when I was 10. My mother won custody of me and I was ecstatic about that. I wouldn't see that horrid man again, and I could try and live a normal life.
Unfortunately, a few months ago, they got back together, and my father acted like a normal father would towards me. I had given him the benefit of the doubt, but 3 weeks ago, he turned up at my bedroom door in the dead of night and asked if he could talk to me. He sat down next to me on my bed, and I could feel every single point of contact he made with me through the duvet. Apologising for what he had done in the past, he lay a hand on my leg, and alarm bells began to ring in my head. Pulling away from his touch, I curled up at the top of my bed and asked him not to touch me. I could sense waves of irritation rolling off him, and I curled up tighter. He leaned across to me and started stroking my knee, laughing as I whimpered and tried desperately to get away.
I can't bear to think about the rest of that night, it was too horrible, although I won't be able to stop myself. Every morning, I will have to endure waking up and being reminded of him. As I fall asleep, I will be reminded of him. In fact, every waking moment, I will be reminded of him, as that horrible night, my father managed to get me pregnant. I couldn't tell my mother, because my father would hurt me, but I couldn't not tell her, because then she would assume I had been going with someone that had pressured me into it. I had only seen one escape route; leave the house, and never return.
"Excuse me miss? Could I see your ticket?"
I jolted up and fumbled around in search of my ticket. Coming across it in the depths of my coat pocket, I handed it up to him, he punched a hole in it and gave it back wordlessly. I unzipped my bag and, not paying attention, I felt around for my little mp3 player.
"Excuse me miss, is this your bag?"
I looked up and noticed the ticket guy was pointing at my rucksack.
"Y-yes, why, is there something wrong with it?"
He picked something out. I couldn't quite see what it was until he held it up. A small, clear bag containing a fine, white powder.