n this wrinkled, stiff, battered leather bag lied my tattered brown diary, my life. Upon it’s torn, coarse, and brown-stained paper lied my life story. As of recently, I haven’t been able to write in the past few days due to the nervousness I felt and haze of suspense drooping and oozing from the air almost as if it were smoke. “What’s going on? Are we going to be okay? Am I going to be okay?” I questioned my clueless self endlessly. I had imagined pouring emotions upon a piece of paper would be beautiful as if I were swiftly and splendidly painting upon a pure and ivory canvas, with my brush effortlessly dancing across. Astonishingly, whenever I lifted up my sleek, smooth ink pen, it was almost as though the waterfall of my emotions underwent
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With the edges miraculously frayed, scrunched, and smoothed out simultaneously. My diary seduced me forward and as I hesitantly grasped for it along with my pen, I return to reality and look around. There were so many people. The crowd swayed along with the train and protruding elbows collide with ribs. A multicoloured sea made up of 80 people were all unified by the golden stars forced upon us. People shoved me aside, making it difficult to breathe. It was uncomfortably warm within the limited confined space of the train. Cramped within an abundance of impatient people, I hadn’t the slightest clue of my location and had only grown to observe the slender back of the man in front of me and the rough texture of his corduroy shirt. The only slither of hope I had was eavesdropping snatches of conversation but even that was difficult as snippets of conversations were inaudible, as if I were trying to grasp sand. The sound of the train battered at my ears whilst their voices washed over me, even as I was forced to move with the tide of people. Yet another elbow not-too-gently tried to push me out of the way. I just wanted to get
With the edges miraculously frayed, scrunched, and smoothed out simultaneously. My diary seduced me forward and as I hesitantly grasped for it along with my pen, I return to reality and look around. There were so many people. The crowd swayed along with the train and protruding elbows collide with ribs. A multicoloured sea made up of 80 people were all unified by the golden stars forced upon us. People shoved me aside, making it difficult to breathe. It was uncomfortably warm within the limited confined space of the train. Cramped within an abundance of impatient people, I hadn’t the slightest clue of my location and had only grown to observe the slender back of the man in front of me and the rough texture of his corduroy shirt. The only slither of hope I had was eavesdropping snatches of conversation but even that was difficult as snippets of conversations were inaudible, as if I were trying to grasp sand. The sound of the train battered at my ears whilst their voices washed over me, even as I was forced to move with the tide of people. Yet another elbow not-too-gently tried to push me out of the way. I just wanted to get