First prize over 2011

DANGER by Hannah Allison

I can hear the deafening noise of the train as it charges towards me. I can see its angry, glaring lights staring unblinking at me. I can smell the awful odour of oil and gas as the train approaches at deadly speed. But I cannot move. My right leg in its black and yellow trainer is tightly wedged beneath the track. Looking over my shoulder, I see the train roaring towards me, a ferocious, unstoppable bull. I can see the train driver’s eyes, wide with fear. And then it all goes black…

---000---

Somehow, I always seem to be getting myself into trouble. This time it was spray painting the exterior wall of the school hall. Those tedious, red ivy-clad bricks looked so boring and plain. I thought that just a little, tiny splash of brightness and colour would look so much more cheerful and welcoming.

“Come in, Jake,” Miss Jones, the head teacher, called. She sat on her cushioned chair peering down on me like an eagle about to swoop down and gobble up its prey. Her small, shiny, black beady eyes surveyed me over the top of her glasses. “It seems to me that you are always ending up in here,” she snapped. “Wasn’t it last week you were sent to me for missing all of your afternoon lessons? And just a few weeks before that you were responsible for the whole school food fight. Not to mention numerous other occasions you have had to stand outside my office. Jake? Jake! Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry,” I mumbled, but my mind had been elsewhere. I had heard Mrs Jones’ lectures so many times over the years I no longer paid any real attention.

“Well,” she continued, glaring at me, “Enough is enough! Me and the other teachers have agree-“

“The other teachers and I, Miss,” I corrected her with a cheeky grin spread across my face.

She was not amused, however. “The other teachers and I have agreed that this is the final straw. We have been very lenient with you so far, perhaps too lenient. We have decided that you should finish term early. Have some time at home to reflect on your behaviour and whether this really is the school for you.” She leaned forward across her desk and said very slowly and clearly, “In other words Jake, I am suspending you!”

What? Suspending me? And they think this is a punishment? How stupid are they? Didn’t they know that that’s what I wanted! Time to myself at home, playing, sleeping... like an extended school holiday! “So we will be writing to your parents and… Jake! Where are you going?” I was already on my feet and swinging my blazer over my shoulder as I strode out. I was free! Nothing could stop me from having fun now!

The first day of my ‘out of school life’ consisted of being screamed at by my mum, a long and boring lecture about jobs and life from my Dad and lying on my bed doing nothing. As the week progressed it didn’t get much better: family moaning, complaining and criticising me, telling me to be different, be good. Unfortunately, nothing they said convinced me - it was going to take more, much much more, than scolding for me to behave.

Roughly three weeks after my suspension, everyone who wanted to drill in to me that I was a disgrace, had done so. I just lived my life and carried on as usual. As usual, that is, until that night. That harrowing night that I will never forget. Walking home from the grocery store, I got a text from my friend Alex: Meeting @ railway 2night. Wanna come? C u by the level crossing. ALEX :-) And like an idiot I agreed to meet him.

By the time I had doubled back past the grocery store, crossed over the old, stone bridge and hiked through the colourful rows of daisies which danced in the farmer’s field, it was well past seven. The sky was just beginning to grow violet and the top of the orange sun was peeping out behind the hills as if to say one final goodbye to the day. The railway line was just ahead. I could see the steel tracks glinting in the last rays of the sun. The rail way is one of my favourite things about our town. Even though we only go occasionally, I get up to so much fun when I’m there. We sprint across the track when we can hear a train coming and sometimes we camp out, toasting marsh mallows over a bonfire. I always get the crazy courage to do something idiotic and insane whenever I’m here. There’s all the adrenaline and rush of ecstatic excitement when you’re darting across the track with a train right behind you, lights flaring, wheels going at 125 miles per hour.

The level crossing was up, letting cars through. Cautiously, I crossed over the tracks, careful not to stumble and there was Alex’s tall figure standing a few metres from me with his brother Charlie. “Hey, stranger,” I called.

“Hey,” said Alex, “You’re just in time. We’re gonna play dodge the train with the 7.15. You up for it?”

“Sure,” I mindlessly agreed, “I’ll show you how the professional does it!” Boasting, I stepped to the side of the track. I crouched down on the gravel ready to sprint across the track at lightning speed when the next train came. My heart was pumping. The exhilaration was thrilling. Adrenaline flooded my veins. Then, all of a sudden I heard it, the distant rumbling of the train, now closer, and closer still. This was my moment. Like a cheetah ready to spring, I prepared myself for the lunge. “1…2…3…Now!” I ran across the track as the train boar down on me. I was about to shout out in triumph when, to my horror, my foot caught on the underside of the track. I yanked and pulled and pleaded but it was stuck fast.

When I woke up I was in a bright white room with a blinding orange light hung high on the ceiling. I could hear voices calling and a machine going bleep! Every second. It took me a few moments to realise that I was in hospital and rigged up to a heart monitor. Bleep, bleep, bleep! It was my heart beating. I was alive. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up straight to see my mum running towards me with tears in her eyes and a beam across her face. I had a pounding headache.

“What happened?” I asked, dizzily. Mum embraced me in her arms. A long, slow bear hug before she replied.

“Alex told me everything. You and him were at the railway track together,” she said tearfully, “and he said you were playing some sort of running game with the trains. Your leg got stuck. Lucky Alex and Charlie were there – they tugged your foot out of your trainer and pulled you to safety with barely seconds to spare.” Tears slid down her cheek….I couldn’t bear it, watching her so distressed and hurt. Everything just seems so… weird.

7 MONTHS LATER…

“Your school bags are packed!” mum calls from the bottom of the stairs. I run down into the kitchen ready for my first day back. “Bye Mum,” I say and open the door to Alex. “Hey, Harry Potter!” he says, nodding to the scar on my forehead as he always does since the accident. I run my fingers across it -I’m getting quite fond of this scar. Every time I’m about to do something stupid I touch it and think of the mess and trouble that I got myself into last time. The way I lived my life before - full of mischief and danger - seems like a lifetime ago now. I’m not perfect, I still have adventures but mini ones and I’m always much more careful. I’ve spent the holiday studying – I’m determined to get those GCSE’s this year. When I go to college I’m going to train to become a pilot. I still have my life ahead of me and I’m living it to the full.