Journey to Goodbye

Opening the crisp cover of the new copy of her favourite novel Jane Eyre, Katrina sank into the less than comfortable seat which public transport offered the common traveller, devouring the first two chapters before the train had even left King's Cross due to a signal failure a mile up the track. ‘Hopefully not a sign of things to come,’ she thought, thinking enviously of her normal commute to work which was a short five minute walk from her flat. Once the train started the four and half hour trek to Edinburgh, Katrina dragged her eyes away from the page she was reading and allowed herself to take in the scenes flowing past as the train picked up speed. 

      London was looking glum as it stared back at her and was being made all the more depressing due to thick grey clouds hanging overhead, which lacked any optimism for the day ahead. “Well,' she thought, ‘I guess the weather is aware of my mood'. She lifted the book from its resting place on her knee and read a few more lines but she did not concentrate on the content. Instead she discreetly took a look around. There were just two other people, a couple of business men in formal attire, in the spacious carriage with her despite the 7am train being a peak time option. She didn’t mind though, she could do without the bustle of numerous travellers and she was sure it would pick up later. Both passengers looked as unenthusiastic as she did about the journey they had just embarked on as they rustled their morning papers in an attempt to look awake. 

      The carriage itself was clean enough, if not a little dusky in smell and she could not help but feel repulsed at the tiny piece of pink chewing gum which has been pressed into the seal of the window. She shuddered and looked away, swiftly reading another four chapters of her book before shoving it into her purple, suede bag. There would be plenty of time for reading. She thought of the miles ahead and then she thought of what lay in wait for her in Scotland.
     Going home had been a major topic of conversation for some time but for one reason or another she had kept putting it off. Grandmother Lily had continually argued that it was her obsessive streak holding her back. Katrina was unable to put someone else in charge of her work as a book editor for a while so that she could take a well deserved break.
     Now though her journey home was one of necessity and heartache rather than one of pleasure. When she arrived in Edinburgh later that day Grandmother Lily's housekeeper, Annie would meet her and together they would prepare for the funeral which would mark the end of an era for both of them.
      If only she had let her friend, Angela, look after her flat a few weeks ago, when she had offered, and she had let Martin, her assistant, take on the promotions for Martha Donahue's latest book tour, she might have seen her grandmother in her final days. Days which could have been filled with a reminder of the love that Lily and Katrina held for each other. Fortunately, Lily had accepted Katrina for the workaholic she had become yet that did nothing to stop the guilt which now engulfed her.
      Focusing on the sea of luscious green fields as they whizzed past with London now being far in the distance Katrina took a moment to relax. They were only at Peterborough so she closed her eyes and started to think of her childhood, where her grandmother had been her only source of family. As memories of grief and rebellion and later a lasting friendship merged she drifted into a light sleep, the pressure of the last few weeks getting the better of her as she finally succumbed to her tiredness.
      She was forced into consciousness some time later as the train came to an abrupt stop. Noticing they were not at a station she groaned inwardly as she waited for someone to explain the situation as she righted her position to look less like she had been sleeping. She rubbed her neck, sore from the position she had found herself in when she awoke and tried to get more comfortable. The announcement she was waiting for came over the intercom then, “Unfortunately we are experiencing signal failure up ahead due to the theft of some cabling. We will get moving as soon as possible.” What was the world coming to when someone felt the need to steal some cabling? ‘Must be worth something I suppose for it to be worth the effort,’ Katrina thought. Dragging herself out of her chair she pulled her short black skirt into place as she decided to take a trip to the food carriage. Making sure her suitcase was safe she grabbed her bag and manoeuvred through the carriages, trying not to trip up on anything that was sticking out from underneath the seats. Further down the train there were a lot more passengers and a lot more noise. She grimaced as she negotiated bags, elbows and even a child’s fist as it splayed out into the aisle without warning as she passed him. She tried to hold her breath as she passed the toilet facilities but could not help but be disgusted at the smell that was emanating from within. Hurrying on she joined the end of a two man queue in a narrow, dark blue corridor in the carriage which housed the food and tried to decide what she would eat. The chances of finding anything healthy were slim although she thought she spied a banana from where she stood. As the first man walked away with some sort of greasy food she waited for the second man to obtain his coffee and then it was her turn. “Morning,” she said, trying to be friendly but the girl behind the counter brushed off her attempts and demanded to know her order. “A black coffee and a banana please,” Katrina said coldly in retaliation to her rudeness and slammed her money on the counter. Grabbing her items without saying ‘thank you’ or ‘goodbye’ she braced herself for the walk back to her seat but miraculously she managed to get there without spilling any of the hot coffee.
     By this time the train had restarted its journey albeit slower than before and soon they had stopped at York station where it seemed a substantial amount of passengers were now boarding. This made the carriages hot and stuffy and despite most of the tiny windows now being open this had no affect. Katrina drank her coffee whilst balancing her book on her knee, trying desperately not to make eye contact with anyone. She was conscious that the seats were not quite large enough to accommodate her and the lady who had sat down next to her and she shuffled closer to the wall of the train, hoping that the journey would soon be at its end. 

      Her mind once more moved towards her grandmother and couldn’t help wondering if she was as claustrophobic in her current resting place as she was feeling right now. If she closed her eyes tight enough and put her arms down by her side she almost felt like she was there with her. Shaking these thoughts away she glanced back down at her book, there not being anything else to do on such a long journey, but the words were blurred, as some tears escaped down her face at the though of her grandmother all alone. Brushing them away in frustration she sighed shutting her book with a slap but keeping hold of it not wanting to disturb her fellow passenger who appeared to have fallen asleep. As Katrina settled in for the remainder of the journey, the train now having left Newcastle station after a brief stop, Grandmother Lily once again swept into her mind almost as real as if she had swept into a room. The long flowing summer dresses Lily had worn when Katrina was growing up allowed her to do this and Katrina smiled now at the thought. If she could just get past the guilt of not being with her at the end she would be peaceful in the knowledge that Lily was in a better place. ‘Clichéd?’ she questioned herself. Maybe, but her grandmother had always believed her soul would live on when her body did not. This did nothing to stop her grief however and although she wanted this journey to end she was worried about the task ahead. Preparing a funeral was not her idea of fun although getting in touch with some of Lily’s friends would be enjoyable despite the circumstances. When Lily had been in a room with any number of her close friends it had always been a riot and even as Katrina thought about it she let out a small giggle as she remembered some of things they had gotten up to. Lily’s friends had been as much Katrina’s family as they had been Lily’s and she hoped that this would remain so now.
     Going through her grandmother’s house and boxing it all up so she could sell the property was another job she was not looking forward to as she would have to cram it all into the week she had booked off work, but again perhaps she would enjoy looking at the things that Lily had built up throughout her life to make her the person she was. Katrina was sure she would find journals and letters and other keepsakes that would keep her grandmother alive in her mind. ‘You know what?’ she thought to herself as the train finally pulled up in Edinburgh station. ‘I can do this. I can say goodbye and still be the woman that I am. Grandmother Lily will remain alive in me.’ With that thought in mind she stood up with focus, grabbed her suitcase down from the overhead shelf minding not to knock anyone out with it and exited the train straight into the arms of Annie who had seen the train come in and had spotted the carriage Katrina had been sitting in. Annie welcomed her like a long lost daughter and Katrina kissed her cheek, linked arms with her and said, “Let’s do this.”

Nobody Listens

I am Chloe, I'm fourteen and I'm crying out for help yet nobody listens. It feels like I am in a dark room with no way out. I am just a shadow of the sunny little girl I used to be and it feels like not one person has noticed. I don't know what to do. When I talk the words just disappear into the abyss getting lost in the fog that is everyone else's real life as they little realise that this is my real life too as I struggle to stay in control. I am alone despite living in a house full of people and attending a school with so many more and no matter how loud I talk still nobody listens.
      I'm fourteen and my only true friend is a knife. A black piece of plastic with a shiny silver blade sticking out of it. Desperate for a release to the pain in my heart the end of this blade meets the tender skin on my arm but for a minute I resist wondering if perhaps this time I will be caught. Maybe someone will scream at me to stop and hold me as I cry into their arms so I find relief this way instead.

       Seconds pass and I am still alone in my black hole so I press the blade harder into my arm and wait for the first sign of blood. The skin goes white as the blade makes the initial puncture mark and a small dark red drop of blood trickles down my arm. I drag the knife along the skin so it leaves a line of about three centimetres long and then I repeatedly trace the line to make it deeper and longer. Barely thinking about what I am doing I continue doing this until there are more cuts than skin on my arm. Five minutes have passed yet it feels like seconds. Feeling more calm I now deftly slot the knife back into it's hiding place in the small tear in the middle of my mattress. The cuts on my arm have swollen like bumps in the road and they sting as I pull my sleeve down and go back to my homework. The pain in my heart has disappeared and in its place is a pain I can understand, a pain I can identify. Today nobody listened so I helped myself. Maybe tomorrow someone else can help. 

   

I hope the above has highlighted a growing problem in our younger generation. Yes this behaviour can be perceived as attention seeking but there is always a reason why a child would resort to such extremities. Children need to be heard because no matter how trivial their problems might seem to an adult they are real to the child. An adult may have a solution at hand but a child who has reached the depths of despair can not see clearly and they need the help that they are reaching out for.

For more information please follow the links below:

www.childline.org.uk

www.nspcc.org.uk

www.samaritans.org

An Emotional Achievement

Standing in the crowded park with my mum, and two thousand other women, under a bright, summer sky I could feel the amplified atmosphere as the welcome began for the charity race ahead. Poignant messages were being shared across the loud speaker and as the warm up followed I couldn't help but wipe a tear away. I noticed that mum was doing the same so I took her hand giving it a gentle squeeze as she gave me a small smile. “You OK?” I asked and she nodded. We were now exercising on the spot, trying to loosen our muscles, in time with the music and trying to copy the instructor on the stage. Today would be an emotional journey for both of us but I knew we could do it. The mood of the vicinity had already changed from sombre to excitement as everyone around us got into the swing of the warm up. As we finished I picked up my bottle of water and took a mouthful before twisting the cap back into place. “Ready for this?” I asked and mum nodded, a big smile replacing the small emotion filled one from earlier. “As I'll ever be,” she said as she linked arms with me. “We are going to have such a sense of achievement once we have done this,” she continued with pride seeping into her voice. I gave her a hug and said, “I think we already have that by just being here.”
As we waited for the race to start I thought back to twelve months earlier when I had sat in my oncologists office with a pounding heart, my husband sat on one side and mum sat on the other. Closing the door behind us Dr Belvoir seemed to take ages to get to her desk. My leg started jigging up and down in anticipation of the news that the doctor was about to share. As she finally sat down she made eye contact with me and smiled, “Rebecca, it's great news you are all clear.” I breathed a sigh and instantaneously I felt like a weight had been lifted from my tired shoulders. Looking to my left I could see my husband beaming as he reached for my hand, holding it tight as though he never wanted to let go. On my right my mum was struggling to hold back tears as a joyous smile spread across her face. Looking back at the doctor I said,“Thank you.” The time for celebration was upon us as the heartache started slipping away into the past. I was cancer free.
I came back to the present as mum nudged me telling me we were about to start. We edged closer to the area where the walkers were standing. The idea was for us to have fun without doing more than we were capable of and to raise lots of money for cancer charities, now very close to my heart. The race was started and a cheer went through the air. I took mum's hand as we started to walk. The grey tarmac was warm and smooth underfoot as the sun glistened and we moved quickly, trying to  negotiate the crowds so we can find our own space further ahead. Every person we passed had a message on their back wishing someone well for the future or expressing loss caused by this horrific disease. Yet everyone's spirits were high, including ours and our pace never faltered, the people around us and the thought of the money we had raised spurring us on.
This was a five kilometre race and when we reached the 'one kilometre' sign mum gave me a high five before saying. “Come on, only four more to go.” With that we picked up our pace and kept going. As we walked down onto the dunes we took in the spectacular view the deep, blue sea gave us and this made it all the more worthwhile. Whilst we walked children were playing all around us, down on the beach, in the sea and in the park surrounding us. It was beautiful to see them enjoying the glorious weather without a care in the world. That to me, was how life should be.
I was so busy concentrating on everyone but me at that point, I missed a kerb and nearly fell flat on my face. Mum broke my fall by grabbing hold of me and once I had righted myself I could not stop giggling. Mum looked at me like I'd gone mental before joining in.  
Soon we had one kilometre left and we were determined to get to the finish line before the end of the hour. We joined hands again and picked up an even faster pace without breaking into a run. On the last stretch my dad and my husband were stood cheering us on. We waved but kept going. As we re-entered the park, I gripped mum's hand tight. With the huge stop clock in sight my feet seemed to feel heavy as though our speed had faltered. We had four minutes if we wanted to finish within sixty minutes. My feet were feeling like lead but I dragged them forwards step by step and after what seemed like forever we crossed the finish line after fifty eight minutes and forty three seconds of walking. The look of ecstasy and pride on my face were immediately apparent as I pulled mum into a hug and kissed her on both cheeks. “Well done,” I said into her ear as we were given our medals.

“Well done you,” she replied, grinning. We were loving the sense of achievement of what we had just done. This short journey was at its end but the one of positivity and enjoyment was just beginning. After this past hour I finally believed in the future I had ahead of me.