The year was 1975.
September 1st, 1975.
There was a sweet smelling autumn breeze.
Slightly chilly. Just cold enough so you knew summer was over.
A train was about to leave the station.
No ordinary station.
Nor was it filled with ordinary people.
These people bustled and shouted from outside the windows.
You could see the loved ones who were staying behind with tears on their faces.
Or the people who arrived last minute and were trying to get on the train before the clock struck 11.
So many faces of joy.
And of wonder.
And hope.
Although less hope than usual.
Most people were already in their compartments.
The rest were searching for where their friends were.
One particular girl was already seated.
She had dark red hair. Soft, beautiful curls.
Her head leaning against the window pane.
She had bright green eyes.
She stared out at the bustling platform.
Completely, blissfully unaware of the hellish future that awaited her.
So was another boy.
He had jet-black hair. It stuck up in every direction.
A boy who would meet the same fate.
He had warm hazel eyes.
She never would have predicted her fate would be tied together with him.
But it was.
And history would be counting on it.
September 1st, 1975.
There was a sweet smelling autumn breeze.
Slightly chilly. Just cold enough so you knew summer was over.
A train was about to leave the station.
No ordinary station.
Nor was it filled with ordinary people.
These people bustled and shouted from outside the windows.
You could see the loved ones who were staying behind with tears on their faces.
Or the people who arrived last minute and were trying to get on the train before the clock struck 11.
So many faces of joy.
And of wonder.
And hope.
Although less hope than usual.
Most people were already in their compartments.
The rest were searching for where their friends were.
One particular girl was already seated.
She had dark red hair. Soft, beautiful curls.
Her head leaning against the window pane.
She had bright green eyes.
She stared out at the bustling platform.
Completely, blissfully unaware of the hellish future that awaited her.
So was another boy.
He had jet-black hair. It stuck up in every direction.
A boy who would meet the same fate.
He had warm hazel eyes.
She never would have predicted her fate would be tied together with him.
But it was.
And history would be counting on it.