Okay, so this is an adaption of my most recent school essay which I was quite proud of. It got an A1 which I think is the irish equivilent of an A*? Anyway, it's my favourite essay that I've was 9 pages of my essay copy but that was after I'd taken a few ideas out of it so I decided to bring back everything I had to cut out and adapt it to be about Sophie and Sian :P
Anyways, enough of my rambling, hope you enjoy, please R&R and let me know if you think I should continue with this! Happy Christmas everyone :)xxx
I almost fell head first down the granite steps as I hurtled out of the building, running down the quiet street. I could vaguely see the flickering blur of the iron bars that joined the pillars of the stone wall as I ran past. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care. I kept running, ignoring the fire of protest burning in my lungs. The hot sting of tears prickled threateningly at my eyes. As I eventually stopped running, believing one of my lungs was literally about to explode, I finally allowed the tears to fall, blurring my vision.
I noticed an alleyway to my left and ventured inside in the hope of escaping the bustle of the city dwellers, going about their lives, completely oblivious to the torment I was enduring. Tears continued to fall thick and fast and I could feel bile rising up from inside me. Wretching violently, I leaned against one of the alley walls, supporting myself with one raised arm as I vomited into the gutter below me.
Once the wretching had subsided, I straightened up, wiping my mouth on my sleeve, still coughing and spluttering because of the vomiting. I moved further into the alleyway, until I had almost reached the other side. Deciding I could go no further, I slumped against the wall, defeated. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks once more as I slid to the ground. Resting my elbows on my knees, I buried my face in my palms. The tears turned to sobs as flickers of memories began to swim to the surface of my mind. I was powerless to stop it as I sank into those memories and they began to play across my mind like a film. It was as though I was reliving them….
August 14th, 2007
It was a roasting August afternoon. I'd been sitting on a train for the past forty minutes between a grouchy little old woman and a large, sweaty man in a filthy white vest. The combination of heat in the carriage and the stench of stale sweat made it almost impossible to breath. As the train began to slow, approaching the next stop, I glanced up at the map above the window which informed me that I had four more stops to go.
I was relieved when the fat sweaty man beside me got up to leave when the train stopped. The doors opened and the fresh air that filtered into the carriage was like heaven. I turned towards the door, my skin grateful for the cool breeze. It was then that I saw her for the first time.
She walked onto the train, struggling with the files and folders she carried in her arms. She wore a simple, white summer dress with little yellow flowers on it. She appeared exhausted but had a content smile on her face. Around her head she wore a thin yellow scarf. No hair fell from underneath the scarf.
She intrigued me. I wondered how a person could simultaneously appear so strong, proud and confident, yet also look frail and vulnerable.
A young man accidently knocked her possessions out of her arms as he left the train. Nobody seemed to notice as sheets, polypockets, folders and files slid across the floor of the train carriage. I'm not sure why but I suddenly felt compelled to help her. Getting up, I walked over to where she was crouched on the ground, scooping up her belongings. "Here, let me help you" I said, stooping down with her to help her pick up the mess of paperwork.
"Thanks" she replied, flashing me a genuine smile. Once we had gathered up all her stuff we sat down together. "Thanks for your help…" she said, trailing off in a way that reminded me we hadn't introduced ourselves yet.
"No problem, I'm Sophie by the way" I said holding out my hand. "Sian" she answered, taking my hand and shaking it gently. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minute as she reorganised her folders. I watched on, becoming more and more curious about her. Something from her pile of paper caught my attention and before I could stop myself, I reached out and pulled it towards me.
She didn't do anything to stop me but her bright blue eyes followed my movements apprehensively. I unfolded the A3 sheet to reveal a pencil sketch of a city block. It was Manchester. It was incredible. I gazed at the drawing in awe for several minutes before I seemed to come to my senses.
"Um…Sorry" I mumbled sheepishly, handing her back the drawing. "It's amazing, are you an artist?" I asked before I could stop myself. I had never been one for talking to complete strangers or nosing about their possessions for that matter. There was something different about this girl. Not in the clichéd romantic movie kind of way. I couldn't explain it, she was just…..different.
"Thanks, I'm an architect actually. Well trying to be one. This is my portfolio, I'm on my way to a job interview in Manchester" she said quietly, a slight pink tinge colouring her pale cheeks. I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
"I'm sure you'll get it, if that sketch is anything to go by, your work is very impressive" I said, still smiling like a crazed lunatic.
"Thanks Sophie" she giggled. As the conversation flowed, she told me about college, studying architecture, how she enjoyed art and sketching the world around her in her free time. At this point we had passed through two of my remaining four stops. She turned the conversation to me, asking "So Sophie, do you always strike up conversations with total strangers on the train?" She let out a little giggle as she waited for my answer, flicking the end of her headscarf back over her shoulder.
"Eh, no actually, this is my first time" I answered, feeling my cheeks glow red as the words left my mouth. She made me slightly nervous. This was yet another thing I found intriguing about her. She was looking at me, waiting for me to say something but I became lost for words.
"What do you do for a living?" she asked, seemingly unphased by my lapse in social skills and giving me the kickstart I needed. I told her about my job as a chef in a restaurant in Manchester and from there the conversation rolled into motion once more.
I didn't ask her about the head scarf or the fact that she was bald. I wasn't stupid. Nor was I insensitive. I also realised that I really didn't know Sian, despite the fact that I really wanted to know her.
As it turned out, we got off the train at the same stop and so walked out of the train station together. As we stood outside the train station, waiting for taxis, I couldn't resist asking; "Sian…would you like to go for coffee…or a drink….with me sometime?" I shuffled nervously from foot to foot, suddenly finding a piece of chewing gum that was stuck to the ground was a fascinating spectacle.
"I'd like that very much" she answered happily as I began to grin like a cheshire cat. We arranged to meet for coffee the following day before she finally managed to hail a taxi.