joy-ch3rry

[joy-ch3rry]

Intro

Name: Not sharing publicly, just call me J

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 15

Nationality: Australian

MBTI: INFJ-T

Hobbies: Writing, crochet, music & theatre, karate, studio ghibli

Writing style: I don't really know how to describe it, I guess it's kinda poetry? It's like little paragraphs on whatever I feel like. I write what I feel, I feel what I write

Other: I have a cat, I live in the countryside, I'm like kinda religious but kinda not, I love to read, I'm good at school

[joy-ch3rry]

An Empty Train Carriage

So this is my first post and first time writing for an audience, I'm aware its a bit long, sorry.

The metal doors close behind me as I step into the empty train carriage, forming a barrier between me and the raging noise of the outside platform. I walk to one of the seats,the contrasting feeling of the cool metal and fuzzy fabric are a comforting welcome as I sink into it.

A peircing screech alerts me to the moving train, beginning its journeu down the track. I look out the glazed window and watch the muttering, judging eyes of that busy train station with its gritty floors and glaring signs, dissapear into the farthest crevices of my mind, I let out a warm sigh, feeling like I was never there to begin with.

Trains have an aura about them, often lost in the haze of rush hour traffic, that brings an overwhelming sense of calm. It's that pristine wave of comfort born from the gentle hum of a moving train, coupled with the rolling view and gentle, familiar announcments that create a place almost frozen in time. As I start to notice and fully appreciate the journey, slowing my thoughts while watching the sunlight dapple against the seats, feeling the relaxing lull of pressure and anxiety, the train slows.

I waltz to the door, still safe in my little cave of tranquility, unaware of the threat lying outside. I step onto the platform, immediately engulfed in the flood awaiting me. My body is jostled side to side amongst the surging crowd. People shout, laugh, scream, chatter, cry, glare. Whistles scream. Electronic sounds howl over the chaos. I'm frozen. I'm stuck. I want to go back.

I turn, only to fins the train speeding away, leaving me defenceless.

How I do miss that train carriage, whenever I'm faced with the outside world. I wish I could travel back to that liminal space, so often overlooked, never appreciated for what it is. A sight people never see, something used by many but never acknowledged.

I see you, little train carriage. I see you, I miss you.