Creative Writing Collection

Revolution: Polar Express FanFic

\-| Character is a young girl between the age of 9 and 11 named Jamie. She was born out of wedlock, her father walking out on her mom when finding she was pregnant. Ethan is her mother's boyfriend, who drinks frequently and abuses her. No belief in Santa and broken Christmas spirt. may or may not continue the fic |-/

        The night was really cold, though no snow blanketed the ground. It never did around this time of year anyway. Christmas Eve was silent and dark in this house, the small of alcoholic eggnog seeping through the house. I was left staring out the window in bed, resting on my side, the light cream curtains moving slightly to an icy draft. I eventually fell asleep, though woke up some time later to a rattling sound.

       My eyes quickly opened, thinking it was an annoyed, hung over Ethan that had come for another round of beatings. Bright lights stung my eyes as I rubbed the sleep from them, the rattling growing stronger that my room shook. I jolted awake as a train whistle blew. Jumping out of bed, I ran to the window to see a large, black train with golden light pouring through the neighborhood; those tracks hadn’t been there before, had that? I pulled on a pair of boots, stuffing the bottoms of my pajamas into them, and grabbed an ordinary light grey jacket that was my strongest protection against the cold. Quietly, I opened my door and peeked into mom’s room; she and Ethan didn’t seem to be snoring. Or awake. The coast seemed clear, but hadn’t they heard the train too?

       The whistle went off again, as if calling for me. And so I decided to see if this train was real or not.

       Unlocking the door, I held myself through the cold as I heard a man cry out, “All aboard!” With a furrow of my eyebrows, I made my way to the voice — this couldn’t be real. I came up to a man in a train conductor’s uniform, a mustache curving over his lip. Adjusting his hat and glasses with one hand, he held his lantern up to see me.

       “Well, you coming?” he asked expectantly.

       “W-Where to…?” I took a careful step back. Who did he think he was? A shudder ran down my spine as I remembered Ethan’s taunting, beckoning voice.

       “Why, to the North Pole, of course!” He outstretched his arms as he gestured to the grand train. “This is the Polar Express!” I could see a few other kids my age glancing out the windows, waving and smiling.

       Looking back at the conductor, I gave a slow nod.

       “Well then, step right on up — watch your step.” He stepped aside, allowing me access to the stairs. He opened the green car door once we got there, a rush of warm heat blasting on me as I stepped through, awed by what was within. The seats were a plush, soft red, golden walls encasing us as the others sang Christmas songs. It all seemed so joyful and happy, so new to me.

       I took an empty seat, fiddling with the ends of my oversized shirt that I used for sleeping as I looked out the window. The train jolted a bit as we began to move. My house began to fade away into darkness, a small cold pit of worry trailing along with me in my stomach.

       What if they woke up? What if they saw me gone? What would they do? Would they call the police? Would they even care? If I came back, what would Ethan do? What would Ethan do…?

       “Hey, hey!” A cross-eyed kid with large glasses and yellow pajamas brought me out of my daze, my eyes later focusing on him.

       “W-What…?”

       “Hey, do you know where this train’s going?” His voice was crisp and sharp, slightly nasally, and reminded me of students I didn’t like at school. The impatient rich ones that always bragged about things.

       “The conductor guy said to the North P-“

       “Yeah, yeah, I know! But what for?”

       A dark skinned girl in a pink nightgown turned a bit in her seat to face us, a kind smile on her lips. “To see Santa, of course!”

       I frowned a bit. “But, Santa’s not real.”

       There was a collective gasp throughout the car as everyone now had their eyes on me. I shrunk a bit in my seat.