Don’t ask me how it happened. Don’t ask me what happened. All I know is this: on December 4th my parents and I were looking forward to visiting my brother for the first time since he started at Lillian University in the heart of the countryside. As we set off on the train and sat eating our packed lunch together, I thought it was going to be a normal day but I was wrong! It took a while to reach Lillian but finally we arrived. I shook my feet to free them of pins and needles, and then happily hopped off the train. A little bench made of splintered hazel-coloured wood with a wrought iron frame sat on the platform so I took a seat and waited for my parents to follow me off the train.
But they didn’t. I blinked, no one did. Because they were gone. In that small second that I’d closed my eyes, they had vanished! The hustling, bustling passengers were gone. Those people waiting to get on the train were gone. Anxiously I peered around. The train stood majestically; it was painted half cool cream and half mysterious claret. I stared at the doors which I had just left. They gaped open like vicious animals ready to gobble me up. I shivered. Not a nice thought, eh? Slumping back on to the old wooden bench I wondered what in the world had happened, was it a crude prank? Was it a secret surprise? So far either of those ideas seemed likely. I looked down at my watch; we were supposed to meet Jason, my brother, by 3:30 pm at the latest. As I did so, something caught my eye scratched on the wooden seat of the bench. It looked like some kind of message.
As I stared intently at the peculiar markings, I quickly realised that they were indecipherable. Each letter, if that’s what they were, was written at an odd angle and some even resembled numbers. Yet somehow, deep inside me, I knew that this was a message meant for me!
Cautiously, I traced the outlines with my finger tip. Smooth like an ancient stone; yet surprisingly cold, the symbols passed beneath my gaze. The very moment my finger left the wood, the markings danced in front of my eyes, rearranging themselves into a sentence. In total disbelief, I muttered the words now before me, “Where are you Ellie, I’m waiting.” My heart jumped and a wave of nausea hit my stomach. Who would know my name? Who was waiting?
Now dizzy with panic, I scanned the platform as tears welled up in my eyes. What was happening to me? It seemed impossible that such an ordinary day could turn out so wrong. Pictures of Mum and Dad floated into my head, their faces smiling through my tears.
Then suddenly, I remembered why I was here. Jason! Of course, the message must have come from Jason. Almost laughing with relief, I turned to read the words again, but the bench was now completely smooth. Not a scratch. Not a mark. I ran my hand over the surface; rubbing it until my palm was sore. It was almost as if someone had come and scrubbed it clean.
In total confusion, I grabbed my bag and slowly walked down the platform towards the exit. If the message had come from Jason I had to try to find him. What if it hadn’t? Well… I didn’t really want to think about that.
Shivering slightly as the bitter cold nipped my nose, I jerkily plodded down the grubby, concrete stairs. As my winter boots met the glossy ice that masked the pavement, worrying thoughts struck my mind. This place seemed forsaken. I trudged into the village high street. Did I have the chance of meeting someone? Inside every shop window were the words, “Where are you Ellie? I’m waiting.” A sudden ray of light shone into my leaking eyes. What was it? Was someone following me? Was I not alone? This was no time to interview myself; I had to get closer to where I thought Jason was.
Further on, I came across an electronics store; a countdown was printed onto every screen. Hopefully it was for New Year, but sadly I knew it really wasn’t. After everything that I had seen, an urge of determination ran through me. Finally Lillian University was standing before me, its grand pillars almost showing off. I needed to find Jason – it was 3:00. I had half an hour to find him, but where to start? I guess I hadn’t thought my plan through properly. I just needed to explore.
Echoing from room to room, a booming voice filled my ears. It roared: “Ellie, time is running out, I’m waiting.” Then I remembered the countdown. It sent a shiver down my spine. What did it mean? What was it for? I scampered to the English room (my brother loved English). One by one the books on the desks opened to a page with newly highlighted letters, they spelt ELLIE! I ran to the exit, however, it slammed shut.
Behind me, a familiar voice announced: “I’ve been waiting for you, so glad you were able to come!”
No escape.
Locked doors.
Me, alone.
I could tell that this shadowy figure was not Jason.
Who was it?
Not daring to move, I stood silently, hoping for mercy. The dark, looming figure was getting closer but, for some reason, I was completely relaxed in its presence. The shadow turned around slowly, tilting her head upward so to be seen. She looked exactly like me in every detail: the auburn hair just below the shoulders, the bitten fingernails, the chapped lips due to the harsh winter. The only difference was that she was transparent. Was she real or just a figment of my imagination? Before I could collect my thoughts, she lifted a long, bony finger and silently pointed to one of the bookshelves at the far end of the room. A thick, black leather-bound book dropped to the floor from the top shelf. Straight away I knew that the book was somehow a way to solve all this.
With much caution, I trudged nearer to the book. When I was close enough, I read the single word that was etched, in silver, into the spine.
“ELLIE!” A voice boomed inside my head, “READ THE BOOK!”
So I slowly heaved the ancient book off the floor and turned to the first page. I turned to the next page and found my name written in big bold italics. Fear melted over my face as my name disappeared in a flash! Immediately in its place a small key appeared, and beside it spelt the words STOP THE BOMB NOW! Stop the bomb? Pondering on why I should do it, questions buzzed around my head, as a picture of a huge bomb exploding across the countryside was trapped inside my head making me shiver with horror.
The key! I picked it up. It was small, yet surprisingly heavy, and made entirely out of solid gold. All of a sudden, a shimmering light shone from somewhere deep inside, illuminating a small keyhole. It seemed to be about the right size for the small key now resting in my sweaty palm. The keyhole was old and rusted. Strangely, the keyhole was embedded in the book. The key slid in effortlessly and turned with a loud click. Almost instantaneously the whole bookcase moved ever so slightly. When I looked closer it was a huge door to a secret annex. Eagerly, I swung the huge bookcase open, deep down already knowing what I would find inside.
There, there it was. That absolutely horrid ticking countdown, but behind it I saw a bomb on the concrete floor. With my heart thumping in my ears, I moved towards the display. Since I had removed the key the book had revealed an eight digit number. My hands were shaking vigorously as I typed in the code. I hit Enter… Silence filled the room.
Again I remembered the oddly shaped key, cold and solid; life sucking almost. It slid into the keypad without effort, turned and… I was back on the bench at the railway station with my parents. All the passengers were back as well and they were all taking as if nothing had happened at all. Mum asked if I was okay because I looked really pale. She took me by the hand and led me to where Jason was stood by the exit. Jason, who should be in an English lesson! Letting go of my Mum and Dad’s hands, I sprinted to him, wrapping my arms around him holding tight. I mumbled under my breath, so as not to let him hear, “You were nearly gone forever.”
by Year 6 pupils from Stanley, Sheen Mount, Heathfield Junior, Hampton Hill Junior and Lowther primary schools