Young Writers Society

Hi All!
This is my first short story. It's based on 7/7 where 3 trains and a bus were bombed in London more than 6 years ago, where I live. 52 people died and more than 750 people where injured, according to the BBC. Under the spoiler is an incredibly long note about why 7/7 is important to me. Feel free to shred it into pieces! I did my research on this, don't worry. The bomb really did give out a bright yellow light.
Enjoy,
Mac










I remember the day it happened so well.

It was a summer’s day. A warm one, at that, although the sun’s rays were blocked by a thick blanket of cloud. I had arrived to London from New York, just the day before on a business trip. Normal.

But that day changed my life forever.



Eight forty in the morning. I was due to be at Canary Wharf station in an hour for an important meeting. Being foreign to London, I was lost. Naturally.

“Excuse me,” I said, while at King’s Cross, to a fellow commuter waiting on the busy platform. “Is this the way to Canary Wharf station?”

The commuter–a middle aged, balding man wearing a white shirt and a stripy tie–turned to me, the briefcase in his hand falling and expelling a dozen sheets of paper from itself. “Oh no! S-s-sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I said, helping him pick up his sheets.

“I-I–this way is the route t-to Canary Wharf, i-if you change at Green Park.”

It sounded like “Green Paaahk.” I was unsure if that was truly the name of the station or his accent. “G-Green Paaahk?”

“N-no, Park.”

“Park. As in–uh–a place with a playground?”

A busy train entered the station. It was absolutely packed in there–more like a cattle train than a commuter one.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I’m from New York. Business trip.” He seemed to understand what I was trying to say. I didn’t want it to seem as if I was insulting his accent. “Is it normal for trains to be this busy?”

“This? T-t-this is nothing. I-it can get a lot worse.”

I nodded. Thank you.”

I looked around at all the commuters who were on the platform. Most were in formal clothing, apart from someone who looked approximately twenty, wearing a large, green backpack.

“MIND THE GAP.”

I jumped in shock, nearly losing my balance. High heels were not a good idea.

Another train rolled into the station. It was as busy as the last, but I would be late if I didn’t leave. The bright red doors
slid open as we squeezed ourselves into the train. There weren’t many people who managed to get on. In fact, only three in our carriage, the middle aged man, the one with the large backpack and I. The latter entered our carriage from the other side, pushing as far as he could, desperate to get on. I wondered why.

The doors closed, and the train began to move. It was crowded yet silent. The only noises to be heard were ‘excuse me’s, coughs and sneezes and the sound a mobile phone made when a text message was received.

The carriage was hot and sweaty. I could feel the cold beads of sweat lining my eyebrows. I desperately wanted to vacate the carriage. There would’ve been steam in there, if I didn’t open the windows. Not that there were any that I could open that I saw.

I pulled out a bottle of perfume and sprayed it on myself. At the same time, I saw the man with the large backpack gazing into my eyes. He looked away. He scared me in a way. Something...

Immediately, I felt frightened. It felt as if a hammer struck my heart, sending waves of fear into the other parts of my body.

“That–that person over there is scaring me a little,” I said, stooping down to speak to the middle aged man. He was rather short but on the contrary, I was rather tall.

“D-d-don’t worry,” he whispered back. “Y-You get a lot of s-strange people on the tube.”

I turned around to look on the other side, through the carriage window.

“The next station is Russ–”

Then it all seemed unreal, as I slowly fell into unconsciousness. Sucked into an empty void...

...a blinding flash of yellow light...

...shards of glass piercing my face...

...blown off my feet...

...suffocating under the mountain of people, crushing me...

...suffocating...

...drowning...

...dying...
Then everything faded to black.



“H-h-hello?”

My eyes flickered open.

“H-hello?”

My eyes were greeted by a dimly-lit face with dark, wide eyes, a slightly crooked nose and dark hair on the sides of his head. I felt dizzy... my head felt was spinning, but slowly managed to make sense of what I was seeing.

“Mm,” I groaned. My eyes wandered to the place where I was. It seemed like... like a tunnel. I tried to turn my head but it was hard. All I could see were lights. Fluorescent orange lights. Every few meters there seemed to be one, illuminating the glistening track.

“Come on. L-let’s get out of this place.”

I could feel two arms under my back, lifting me up. I could feel myself carried through what seemed like a sooty tunnel. My arms ran along the floor, feeling the coating of the floor–soft, thick, dusty.

Then I felt something cold, yet soft. I held onto it. It felt like a hand. I looked at it and I was right, it was a hand. Then I realised what it was. It was a limb. Ripped apart from its owner.

I screamed before I fell into the dark empty void again.



I woke up again, my eyes greeted this time by a sea of white. I squinted, the white light hurting my eyes. I glanced further down to see two people discussing something quietly over me. It seemed like... like a bed. Their voices were too quiet to hear.

The same person I met at the station.

I could barely move any of my limbs. I attempted to move my arm, but it hurt. A sharp pain pierced it.

Nevertheless, I stretched my arm and grasped the man’s fingers. It was nice to know that there was someone, however far away from home they were, would be there for you.

It was nice to know that there was a hand to hold.








P.S. If you like it, press like!

I like this! Especially because I haven't seen anyone on here remembering 7/7! Thanks for posting this! I remeber that day I was at school and they had just annouced that London was going to host the 2012 Games and then my teacher had to run out of class because she heard the news and it turned out her husband worked near Charing Cross (near the attacks). We had to stop class and my mum came to pick me and my sister up early because she was worried (though our school was nowhere near... typical of mothers eh?)

ANyway, I'm rambling.

I think this was well written, and really captures how the events went. My favorite part is:

Then it all seemed unreal, as I slowly fell into unconsciousness. Sucked into an empty void...

...a blinding flash of yellow light...

...shards of glass piercing my face...

...blown off my feet...

...suffocating under the mountain of people, crushing me...

...suffocating...

...drowning...

...dying...
Then everything faded to black.

because it's different (once again, something different! Brilliant! ) and adds to the slowly losing of conciousness.

I have nothing to add! So good job.
Keep writing!

- Mikko.

I love this writing. I knew what was going to happen, and because of what you wrote at the beginning I thoguht it might be a long letter of information. Anyway, your style of writing was gripping and it was interesting how you put this. I get that it was meant to be a short story, but it it was a long story you could do so much with it. Imagine the journey of having to walk down the tunnel (if they were underground) the fear that would eat the person up!

There are a lot of things you could do with this story if it was long, but I like how it was kept short. And the scene with the limb was very interesting too.

Great read, liked it!

Deanie x

*place holder for a review*

I was pretty excited to go read your short story after seeing your wall post in the Islam Central club. Though I can barely remember anything about the 7/7 attacks (I was 13 at that time, maybe that's why I can't remember it well) but your story and writing style was good enough to imagine all the events in my head.

It was a summer’s day. A warm one, at that, although the sun’s rays were blocked

I think there is no need to used the [ 's ], you can say, the sun rays

I enjoyed reading the conversation between the narrator and the middle-aged man. It was well written and interesting to read.

I also liked that part in which you were describing how you felt before getting unconscious.

I squinted, the white light hurting my eyes.

Don't know what bothers me when reading that sentence, maybe because it misses a linking word.
> Just suggesting: I squinted when the white light hit my eyes/ I squinted as the white light was hurting my eyes.

It was a great story to read, though sounding tragic but enjoyable. Well done!

“MIND THE GAP.”

I remember that from my vacation to London! I actually bought a t-shirt there that says "mind the gap" on it. And I even recognized where they were going - Russel Station, unless I'm mistaken. We went there a lot. Great job - you've obviously been there yourself.

I'd never heard of 7/7 (I'm American), but this was really great and now I'm surprised I'd never known about this. This was very realistic, judging from my visit to London this summer, and you captured the moment with just enough dramatic flair to pull off the right affect, but not enough to make it overdone and cheesy. Beautiful job with this.

Hi! Sorry its taken me so long to get to this but hopefully the review will have been worth the wait

Specifics

1.

I remember the day it happened so well.

This is a weak first line. It's a generalisation and something that's been used over and over again. You could make it more dramatic and stronger by shortening it to 'I remember the day.' or you could change it completely. But I'd suggest changing it because this is the sort of first line that belongs to a more mediocre story.

2.

The commuter–a middle aged, balding man wearing a white shirt and a stripy tie–turned to me, the briefcase in his hand falling and expelling a dozen sheets of paper from itself. “Oh no! S-s-sorry.”

This seems random, how the guy's briefcase opens without his being jostled or anything. It doesn't seem realistic, more like you just needed a way for these two to talk or something to happen. That may indeed be the case, but that shouldn't stop you from making it realistic as well.

3.

“MIND THE GAP.”

Are the caps really needed here? An exclamation mark would suffice.

4.

I jumped in shock, nearly losing my balance. High heels were not a good idea.

This is the first indication that the narrator is female. Until here, I was leaning toward a male voice to be completely honest. I think you need to slip in a few more details earlier and maybe a few more feminine traits. Just pointing out things that a woman would notice, such as another female's dress or the cleanliness or lack thereof of the station would help.

5. The detail of the dead limb was a good touch and unexpected. It added a nice sense of horror and helped to build up the atmosphere so good work there.

Descriptions

What you have is good, but, you really need more sensory description in a piece like this! You need to make the reader feel as if they are there too, feeling these same things, hearing these same words. There's plenty of visuals here and occasioanlly you touch on the other senses, but not enough. What are the sounds she hears? Does the explosion ring in her ears even after it's over, does the man's voice sound tinny and far away? I fainted once when I was younger and I remember how much sounds and touch made up my world for just a little while because my vision was so badly blurred but sounds were insanely loud. I could hear everything. The whirring of distant machinary, the tick of the heating system and a whole stream of voices, like they were right against my ear. So when she's being carried by the man and her world is closing down to just her immediate person and the nearest objects, what can she hear? How does the man's body feel pressed against hers? Can she smell burning in the air, taste it? There's a big opportunity to really build the atmosphere in this piece!

Overall

I liked it. I think it still has a way to go before it becomes a piece that can really grab its reader but I found this a smooth and interesting read. There were some firm, well presented details and it's a good idea for a story. I don't know much about the bombings myself, but I do remember hearing about them on the TV and wondering how people could do such a thing, of what would drive someone to kill themselves and so many others.

What might have been interesting would be a closer view of the culprit. It might sound like a repulsive idea to you, but perhaps a more sympathetic view of him since that would be unexpected? Perhaps he helps her instead of the other man when she's first getting on the train? Perhaps the roles are reversed and her saviour is in fact one of the rude, too-busy-to-waste-my-time-on-you typical business men of London? But in the crisis he forgets all that and is the gallant hero.

Just a few things for you to think about! Feel free to ask me any questions you may have,

Heather xxx

I liked what you wrote for the quickness of it, but what was with all the stuttering? It really slowed the pace down a few notches. I thought quite a few of your characters had speech impediments, but I wasn't sure. It got very confusing right about here:


It starts out with you asking him where Green Park is, but right here, "“I-I–this way is the route..." it seems as though he's asking you. I would get rid of the stuttering all over this piece, since it distracts the reader a lot. Furthermore, the dashes you use to hold in the appositive (a middle aged, balding man wearing a white shirt and a stripy tie) could be replaced by commas.
I was surprised none of the other reviewers mentioned the stuttering, it was a big problem for me. That and the lack of dialogue tags.

On the other hand, I really liked your mention of the hand (no pun intended) as Kitty15 pointed out, but I like your one step further. After she gets rescued she talks about the 'hand to hold'. It's a bit of black humor I'm not sure others got, nor am I sure you even meant for it to be there.

Kudos, Jenth

Hi there, Mac ^_^ I'm here to give you your free review...

This story is shocking, actually, I never knew about 7/7 until now. Your writing is great, no doubt. But while I kept on reading I wondered why they would dither in every single dialog... at first I thought he was a stutterer, but then I noticed the other man would stutter as well. xD And one thing that could make this story even better would be describing what he felt, not physically, but emotionally. Remember that these kind of events are principally part of history because of the emotional impact. Though, you did a great job describing what he felt physically. xD You should've seen my face.

Overall, awesome job!

Keep writing!

~Solly<3