The young girl covered her ears as she squeezed through the mass of people, only slightly softening the deafening roar of the crowd. Gentle hands pulled her with her magenta suitcase through the maze of bodies, guiding her to the edge of the platform. She silently took her place next to the man whom she barely knew, but trusted with her life. At the moment, he was probably the only person she could trust, considering the state her parents were in, but that didn’t fully explain her strong reliance in him.
A soft rumbling could be heard in the distance, slowly climbing louder and louder. She brushed her pale hair out of her face to get a better look at the moving object in the distance.
The tall cloud of dark smoke erupting from the engine acted as a flag for the train, signaling its existence. It burst into the station, and with a painful screech of iron against iron, it slowed to a halt.
As the doors of the locomotive opened, the area erupted into chaos. Passengers poured out of the train cars, while impatient members of the crowd pushed their way onto the iron horse.
“Come on, you have a special car to get onto. Hurry up, or someone might take your seat.” the man told the girl, sounding stressed and exhausted from dealing with the chaos of the crowd, but she got the feeling that something else was the source of his troubles.
A quick glance up at him revealed that his eyes were filled with a peculiar emotion for this situation: sorrow, and it wasn’t the pitiful sorrow she had seen when the police officers had told her that her parents were dead. It was the kind of sorrow that was raw and nearly impossible to disguise. The girl quickly looked away.
The man grabbed her arm, not as gently this time, and yanked her through the throng of bodies until they arrived at the last car of the train. He didn’t want to be rough, but it was his way of masking the sadness he felt every time he looked at the orphan girl.
The ticket puncher was a man who ripped the ticket out of her hands, punched it sloppily, and returned it to her with the same rudeness. He practically shoved her through the doors of the train. Upon entering the car, the girl noticed that she wasn’t the only child riding the train today. In fact, this particular car’s only passengers were children and teenagers. “They must be orphans too,” she whispered to herself.
The man watched as the fair-haired girl disappeared through the doors of the train, only to re-appear again through a window. It had only been a day ago when the police had contacted the orphanage he worked at, Safe Haven Orphanage, with news of a 12-year-old girl who needed a place to reside in. As the director of Safe Haven, he had to explain grimly that the orphanage had no room for another child. This was something he often had to do, so he had trained himself to not let his personal feelings affect his work.
A few hours had passed, and the initial guilt that usually gripped him for rejecting a child now consumed him. This usually never happened, and he was always able to keep his emotions under control. However, one little thought had bubbled up into his brain, and caused him to change his mind: "What if it’s her?"
He called the police officers back, and offered to let her stay at Safe Haven for one night, and then send her to another orphanage, which had less occupants, the next day. It was the least he could do, he had thought.
Soon after, the police arrived with the child in tow. She had used one hand to pull her fuchsia suitcase through the wide doors of the orphanage, while the other hand clutched a hidden item tightly to her chest.
His heart skipped a beat as the man’s suspicions were confirmed. It was the girl he had thought of. Memories that he had tried to forget slipped through his mental barrier.
When he had greeted her, she was obviously struggling not to cry. However, she didn’t let the tears trickle down her cheeks, like most of the orphans did on their first day. Immediately the man could tell that the girl had a strong spirit, and was filled with pride.
During the interview with her, the director found out that she truly was as brave as he originally predicted.
“So when did you call 911?” he had asked.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, remembering the gruesome scene, the replied, being as descriptive as she possibly could. “After my father threw a broken bottle at my mom. She screamed as the glass pierced her side and the wall next to her was sprayed with red. Then I knew that this wasn’t just an average fight, and that if I didn’t get involved, someone was going to die.” She tried to sound bitter, like she wasn’t fighting back tears, but she choked on her last words and a teardrop escaped from her eyes, tumbling down her cheek.
”But they both ended up dying anyway.”
She wiped her eyes and continued. “Then he pulled out a gun-which I didn’t even know he had-and I looked away. I could hear my mother whispering something, but then she was cut off by a loud bang. Luckily the police were already on their way. My dad was dragging her body away when they pulled up outside of our rotting shack of a house. I heard him curse and then there was another bang from the gun, and a loud thump.” She sniffed. “Then the police were there, and someone was guiding me out of that awful place, past their lifeless bodies and into a police car.”
She had looked up at him after she finished. “And that’s my story. What’s going to happen to me now?”
But that was yesterday. Now, the man shook away those memories and sighed sadly. He watched the young girl settle into her seat and gaze out the filthy window as the train slowly pulled away.
Picking up speed and releasing bursts of smoke, the locomotive sped away from the station, blaring its whistle. Very few people remained in the station, now that the train was gone, but the man didn’t move from his place next to the rails.
"If only you knew that I’m your real father."
A single, sparkling tear tumbled down the man’s cheek as he watched the train disappear into the horizon.
"If only you knew how badly I wish I could keep you here with me."