PART 3: One more step

I once more found myself in a large, dull, grey, made-made box surrounded by people who had no idea of what I was going through. Only this box was moving and occasionally a few people would get off only to be replaced by another couple of grey, emotionless faces.

My eyes scanned across each of them, and wondered, who are they?

Where are they going?

What do they like doing on weekends?

What are their favourite colours? Recipes? Books?

Questions I know I will never know the answer to, but I hope, I pray, that they all do something great with their lives and don’t throw it away, like I have. What have I achieved? I have learned and I have loved, but have I really lived life? Have I attempted the impossible? Have I made a list of all the things I want to do before I die? Who have I helped? And when was the last time I dreamed?

When I was eight I wanted to be a fireman, but look at me now; a grey dot in a sea of grey dots amongst tall grey boxes.

I only fear that one day this grey will consume us all, engulf the whole world, until even the clear blue sky cannot even be seen behind the clouds of grey smog and fumes…



I didn’t have to wait long before the automatic doors slid back, and the smooth computer-generated voice told me to;

“HURRY UP AND GET OFF! OH AND DON’T TRIP ON THE WAY OUT!!”

I obeyed and was blasted with a cool rush of air as I stepped onto the platform, clouds rolled overhead.

What was wrong with the weather these days? Perhaps Mother Nature went to some day-spa and left Father Earth to run things, that’ll be right.

I chuckled to myself, then shook my head. No, there was something more serious going on.

I looked around the platform, to find it almost completely empty. The train had gone and only the only people that remained other than myself, was a janitor and a young woman digging around in her hand bag for something.

I sighed.

Secretly I had hoped that the train would never actually make it to the station. Hoping for some kind of, ‘freak accident’…But no, I was still here and there was still time to for me to worry about everything at hand, still time to walk home…

I headed for the escalator thankful that because there was no-one else on it I was able to walk up it. It puzzled me why in a world where everyone is time crazed and would prefer to eat a bad breakfast quickly in the car on the way to work, rather than make a nice one in the comfort of their own homes. Yet they choose to waste time standing idly on a piece of machinery creating massive lines, rather than just put one foot in front of the other and save time. The world is indeed a confusing place.



It was even colder out in the open, I pulled my coat tighter around me, letting myself be consumed with its warmth as I headed through the cold wind.

I soon found myself notice every step I took and thinking;

I’m one step closer...

One more step closer to what? home? No. one more step closer to death. One more step closer to freedom…

I then paused, stopping my death counter, and looked out into the world ahead. That’s when I realised, I was not alone. The young woman I had seen earlier was ahead, walking at a fair pace, but turning every so often to look at me. There was a point where our eyes connected, our emotions poured through our pupils. From hers I saw fear. A fear that you know you shouldn’t have to live with, a fear where you can’t even walk in your own neighbourhood without turning every few seconds. I wanted to know what she saw in me, if she saw anything at all or if I looked as I felt: empty.

However she felt, what ever she saw, all I got was one last glance into her wide, blue, fearful eyes before she hurried off. Her heels tapping sharply on the concrete with every step…

While I…well, I stood there, unmoving, looking out into the world, and letting the world look into me. And I stayed there, time almost at a stand still. Even as the rain began to cascade down on me, I did not move, I just wondered….

How long before we all are fearful?

How long before we all are grey?

And do I want to stick around to find out?



The next train must have pulled in, its passengers pouring out, concealing themselves under their umbrellas or keeping off what they could with the morning news. That’s when I realised; the world will not stop for me. There are no breaks or time outs for you to get your head around things. Your death counter is always ticking and life goes on.

Life goes on...and I carried on, one foot in front of the other down the street.

Author's Note

Once again, let me know what you like and what you hate. Be honest. I wrote this when I was 14, and need an excuse to re-write it!