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The rhythmic beating of the midnight train,
From the darkness,
It calls my name.
I look out this broken window for the last time,
The decrepit texture of these tattered clothes, and musky air are all that my body can feel in the darkness.
I slip away from underneath these lukewarm covers. Propel off the bed, onto creaking, yet solid wood.
In my head, I say my last goodbyes,
To a family I'm sure doesn't deserve them.
Limping home from school,
Dressed in only a worn uniform and bruises,
The giant figure of my father stares with cold eyes,
Ashamed I had not fought back.
Dishonor's only retribution is punishment,
As a frail, wooden spoon whistles through the air,
My throat can only echo pain.
I quickly shake my head to dispel the memory.
That's what I was escaping now,
I don't belong here,
In rooms with musky air,
That echo with memories of disappointment,
and a mother who only looked the other way.
Mother, her eyes filled with tears,
Attempting to comfort me.
You want to comfort me?
Why didn't you stop him?
You only turned your head,
Were you also ashamed?
The roar of the midnight train grew louder.
I crept past torn bookcases,
A rugged carpet,
Silver moonlight danced through broken wood.
A house as broken as the family that resided in it.
I crept past hallway after hallway,
Pictures of noble forefathers, long ago,
And now, my sister's room.
Your body laid in an almost eerie, motionless position.
The silhouette of your bedsheets ruffled.
The midnight wind came,
As if to steal them off your body.
My heart was only filled with sorrow,
As the figure underneath the moonlight seemed almost perfect,
But underneath laid a frail, sickly shell.
My mind wretched as I tried to fight off a memory,
Where a lonely family,
Poor as the dirt they stood on,
Couldn't afford what was asked of them,
Couldn't afford to keep their new daughter healthy.
There she lied,
A cough slowly escaping her throat.
The pale light only worsened the image of her white face.
I'm sorry to leave you here, broken and alone,
With parents that are unable to love anymore.
I stand unmoving, with a path ahead of me.
Do I have the strength to carry on?
I have to go,
But I stand unmoving...
I fall to my knees,
My heart is breaking down,
My body still moves,
But my heart tears apart,
I fall to the ground,
A muffled sound only followed by
I have to go...
My mind didn't care anymore,
About being silent as I escaped from this cage.
It would rather explode out of this shell,
Like a soaring eagle...
Let the world know,
That I was free.
As I rise to my feet,
I rise with the conviction to escape.
The boards of a withered house seem to scream,
But I run,
Louder and louder I become,
I turn a final hallway,
Reach the gateway to freedom,
A tall, wooden door stands,
Battered against the winter snow outside.
My body instinctively takes the bronze handle,
And with ten years of pain,
I turn the handle...
And escape into the winter snow...
Louder and louder, the midnight train rises from the mist.
Snow fell like drunken angels from the blackened sky...
Dancing through the wind,
Wisping and falling onto the earth like brilliant fireworks.
I look forward,
Past ancient trees,
The train tracks seemed to glow like a beacon in the distance.
My heart is set aflame,
As if everything I had been through,
All my pain, memories, and hurt,
Had been ignited.
Everything dissipated into the darkness,
As only one goal remained.
I felt like a lion,
Racing past the snow-topped trees,
The frozen snow squished back into the ground
As I pounded through the winter night,
Towards endless black,
The cold bit my aching body,
The train grew closer and closer,
My body screamed with exhaustion,
A few more feet,
The train roared through the night,
Cracking through the wind like a comet.
The train tracks were at my feet,
All I had to do was jump,
Jump, and I would be free,
My body compelled for one last act,
Before surrendering to fatigue.
The metal bars of the train were like ice,
But my body wouldn't let go,
I pulled myself up,
In a rage of defiance,
I pulled up...
Here I was... Freedom,
My body collapsed onto the cold, metal cart.
I had defeated the winter night,
Remained victorious against a decade of abuse.
A glowing feeling grew inside of me,
I look around the cart,
Several men and woman are rested against the chilly cart wall,
Most of them asleep, if not drowsy.
Torn clothing, and sickly bodies,
They too, were escaping...
Together we ripped past the winter night,
On the train called Freedom.