Young Writers Society

Hi All! This story is a rewrite of a previously featured story I wrote about the 7/7 Bombings in London 6 years ago. I've tried to work on your comments (And no I AM British, but the narrator is American so I've made the dates the American way.)
Please let me know your thoughts!







July 7th 2005

I still remember it. It haunts me to this day.



Eight forty in the morning. I was due to be at Canary Wharf station in an hour for an important business meeting, but being foreign to London, I was lost. Naturally. The tube map I clutched looked more like a bowl of multi-colored spaghetti than a map.

It was hard to keep my balance, especially with high heels, as whole stampedes rushed behind me as I tried to work out where to go on the maps on the wall next to the platform. I knew that I needed the gray line... but the only line on this map was the blue one. Strangely enough, the other half of the map appeared on the other side, next to the other platform with ‘Northbound’ written at the top, instead of ‘Southbound’ on the one I was facing.

Feeling extremely baffled, I approached a commuter, with a briefcase in his hand, on the platform, in front of an advert. “Excuse me,” I said. The man shot a fleeting glance at me before giving a straight face and facing the adverts on the wall.

I sighed and tried to speak to another one who was closer to the edge of the platform. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” He looked up from a sheet of paper he was reading.

“Do you know how to get to Canary Wharf?”

“Er - yes,” he replied. I watched his eyes following the train that had just rumbled in. “Change at Green Park, I think.”

“Thank you very much,” I smiled. He was certainly a lot nicer than the other commuter.

The doors of the train opened, revealing an extremely crowded interior. It looked like a cattle train. How on Earth are they able to even stand? I thought. The doors closed, then the graffiti-covered train slowly left the train.

“Is it normal for trains to be this busy? I’m from New York, on a business trip, so I’m not... really...” I trailed off.

“This? T-this is nothing. It can get a lot worse.”

Another train rumbled in, busy as the last. Glancing at my watch, when the bright red doors slid open, I squeezed into the train. Only a few managed to get in.

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 someone at the far end of the carriage with an incredibly large backpack and very short hair, gazing into my eyes. He couldn’t have been over twenty, although he was extremely tall, having to bend his neck to be able to stand.

He looked away. He scared me in a way. Something... Could it have been the far-away look in his eyes? The solemness in his eyes? It as if a hammer struck my heart, sending waves of fear into the other parts of my body, when he looked at me.

You’re worrying too much, Gerry, I told myself.

I tried to avert my attention to the carriage window behind me. It was dirty and dusty. The edges were covered in soot. Obscene messages and graffitti was etched into the 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.




Where am I? It’s too dark.

I … lay there? I had no idea what had just happened. Perhaps I was in bed - no. I couldn’t have been in bed. What on Earth would all this weight on my arm be? My bedroom couldn’t have been this dirty either. I was... on the floor. I had cleaned it before I left.

Then I realised that I wasn’t even in New York.

It made sense. A large, fluorescent light was shining from far away. It was orange. Everything was blurry and eerily quiet, except for the ringing in my ears. Then, the pounding of … footsteps onto the ground. It came closer.

I closed my eyes and opened it again. I found a vaguely familiar face. Something to do with a briefcase. But its face was too blurry to tell who exactly it was.

“Hello?”

I said nothing.

“Hello?”

This time, I tried not to say anything. Its voice was so loud. I couldn’t even speak. I could feel something ice-cold and smooth being slid across my arm. It was heavy.

Just. Let. Me. Die.

Then I could feel warmth. A pair of warm hands felt my wrist. “Alive.” I was lifted up by what felt like... strong hands. I could feel walking. We passed a wall light - as we got closer it became brighter. As we passed and went away, it became darker.

With each step that the person carried me made, I found my self thinking foot... steps...

Foot... steps... foot... steps... foot... steps

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. I tried to turn and to look at it. I could only see the hand. Nothing next to it.

I realised.It was ripped apart from its owner.Then, I fell into the dark, empty, void again.



I woke up again, my eyes greeted this time by a sea of white. I squinted as the white light hit 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.

I could barely move any of my limbs. I attempted to move my arm, but it hurt. A sharp pain
pierced it. I sluggishly stretched my arm and grasped what felt like a hand.

The voices were saying something. Something. “Sleep. You can rest.”

It was nice to know that there was someone, however far away from home they were to, would be there for you.
It was nice to know that there was a hand to hold.





July 7th 2005.




Press like if you like it!

Hey Blues I'm here, faster than the speed of sound.
I guess I'll jump right into it!

I still remember it. It haunts me to this day.

- great and captivating first line.

The tube map I clutched looked more like a bowl of multi-colored spaghetti than a map.

- this is great! I feel like that looking at the tube map sometimes, too. Good resemblance

as whole stampedes rushed behind me as I tried to work out

- here comes first nitpick. Basically, I think the 'as' is repeated twice and it's a tiny bit confusing. Maybe rephrase it like this: It was hard to keep my balance, especially with high heels, and the crowd pushing me from side to side. As I tried to work out... I think it will just flow nicer this way, and you won't need to use the 'as' twice.

He was certainly a lot nicer than the other commuter.

- I think it's stating the obvious here. Maybe, 'that was of much more use to me', or 'this commuter was much more informative'. I just don't like the word 'nice'

It looked like a cattle train. How on Earth are they able to even stand?

- once again, great reference!

“Is it normal for trains to be this busy? I’m from New York, on a business trip, so I’m not... really...” I trailed off.
“This? T-this is nothing. It can get a lot worse.”

- I didn't quite get this. Who is the main character talking to?

then the graffiti-covered train slowly left the train.

- Oh, and this. A train left a train! A train left the platform, I'm guessing.

He scared me in a way.

- I feel that this could be re-phrased, too. There was something about his stare that sent chills down my spine, or something along the lines of that.

You’re worrying too much, Gerry,

- Gerry? Isn't our character a woman?

Sucked into an empty void...

- this line, and all the rest that come after it impressed me a lot. It was jagged, like the situation must have been, you suddenly cut off the message in a train - it's all very vivid and realistic, so well done!

I realised.It was ripped apart from its owner.

- oh my! That's not a nice sight. Conveyed well, though.

A sharp pain
pierced it.

- put the 'pierced it' on the line above.

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

- great ending, with reference to the title.

Overall
Wow, this was very moving. I had heard about the bombings, but here, I really got to feel what it was like. It wasn't a pretty experience, of course, but that was your intention. Generally, I really liked it. You used imagery very well, the italics were used appropriately, and moreover, you made me feel very strongly about the people who must have witnessed it. So, well done on this. It's not often a person can write about a disaster and make it believable and realistic, and you managed this very well.
Keep writing, please.
polly xx

Heya Blue!

I liked this version just as much as I like the previous one.

I loved your opening line. It was like a warning to the reader that something exciting, unexpected and maybe scary was going to happen. The detail throughout the story was brilliant. The last line was a very nice summary to it all. I liked it. And the end of the first scene you built up the suspense really well. It was fantastic!

I am not going to pick out the same mistakes that Polinka discovered so here is all that I noticed:

AhmadBlues wrote:It as if a hammer struck my heart, sending waves of fear into the other parts of my body, when he looked at me.

I think you mean 'It was as if'

It was a great read!

Deanie x

Hi Mac.

I'm here as requested. I can see your changes improved your story greatly. It seems more professional and more touching. I actually have nothing to critique this time. Just lettin' you know that you've done a good job rewriting. And, I don't think if I mentioned it in your first draft... or if it starts the same way as in this one, but I think it's start, and you managed to captivate the reader during the whole topic. Great job!

~Solly<3

Hey Ahmad!

I love this story and how you've described every single detail. You start by introducing Gerry, a busy woman who uses the train for the first time. The gritty depictions of the characterized graffiti and markings on the walls and windows provide for that real effect and also contribute to the character of the surroundings.

I like that there is a much bigger plot than the general central context that you are trying to talk about, which is the bombings. It's more than just that. It's about being far away from home and despite meeting such odds, to feel that warmth and affection from people who remind you of home. Kudos to you for making this such a memorable story.

I can see now that because of your obsession and fondness for the railways, you've had a big impression on the bombings. I'm sure that one day you'll make a great 'Director of British Railway/MI6 duckeh Agent'.

I haven't read your previous draft but I'm certain that this piece is a treat to read. You've got tremendous potential and I hope you keep the ink flowing!

Murtuza

Ahmad.

Here as requested! Allow me to jump right into things.

Now, as for the concept, I like to think of it as something worth the effort and imagination, definitely. I never had a chance to read the original, but I'd like to assume you put a lot of effort into rewriting and reworking this piece until it was just the way you wanted it. For the most part, it was very clear and smoothly put together concept wise. But there's always room for improvement even when you reach that state in a draft. Perhaps it is the most mind-gnawing thing about writing, but I think there was still a bit more room for a larger impact in this piece.

The ending was sweet. And I like your angle there, because it sets a mood in and of itself. But I think that you could draw out the imagination as for foreshadowing the event that which occurs. Everything prior to the bombing is somewhat flimsy information, apart from the obvious this character is alone in a place foreign to her. And as for the bit concerning the suspicious boy on the train, considering I knew what this piece was about already, it didn't do much for the occurrence of the actual event. I was already sure that that was someone involved.

I think as for people on the train, you describe them in a way that sounds utterly detached. You should describe the scene of people in a more developed aspect. These people are going to die --some of them anyway-- and they're going to be injured. I suppose I'd like to see a level of sympathy for the strangers come in here. Seeing as that's how the story sort of wraps itself up. The character is alone in London, but there are still people there tending to her and holding her hand. It could be a recurring theme in your story, you just have to work on developing it some.

I had quite a few nitpicks, but they seem a tad irritating to point out at times when reviewing in general; especially when scattered about. xD So I will say that you may want to look back through this one more time rather slowly and look out for grammatical and punctuational things that could use some fixing up as well as the sentence structuring of some areas. One here for example:

The doors closed, then the graffiti-covered train slowly left the train.

You repeat the word train twice, for reasons beyond me. Perhaps it was a mistype. Look out for little things like that. Smooth out your language a bit. But this is simply me being nitpicky. Your writing in general was rather clear, Ahmad dear. I have to say I was a fan of the part where the actual explosion happened. I'm never quite sure how to construct scenes like that, but you did a nice job with it. It was believable.

I want to say nice work here! It could probably still use some developing emotionally and in concept, but there's always room for that type of editing down the road. You should be proud of what you've done here. I hope this review might help in some way or other. Let me know if you have any questions!

-Smylin'