Hidden I

The train gradually slowed down until it reached the station, the high pitched screech of the wheels echoing through the late evening. It was an old train, with a coat of ominous black metal spread with the laziness of someone who's main priority was to finish the job. If you were to touch it surely it would feel rough as bitty, microscopic pieces of harden painting would prick your finger like Sleeping Beauty's spindle.
Once it had come to a halt, everyone waited for the doors to open. The ghostly figures in black swarmed together like splodges of ink on parchment; no one talked, but authority was determined as more assertive people had their toes on the train stations edge. The gateways were small and inconvenient, they revealed nothing about the inside of the train. People hopped over the slither of fright and appeared to sink into a dark abyss of unknown.
In reality, the inside was rather traditional. The corridors continued forevermore, making the future appear as unclear as ever. To enter a compartment you would twist the handle of a sliding door, due to the train being old the doors were rather stiff, quite a bit of force had to be used before there was finally enough room for a person to enter. Into compartment seven entered a small girl, she was probably fifteen years old with long blonde hair in a casual plate down her back, her dark brown eyes spoke of boredom, hardship, innocence and intellect. First she observed the room, the nodded, then moved next to the window, drew a large book from her traveling bag, and read. Next came a boy. He was both similar and different from her. His hair was also casually done, but it was short and ordinary, his dark brown eyes spoke of kindness, suffering, strength and stubbornness. He smiled around the room and then took a seat next to the girl. Imaging yourself walking round a deary and boring gallery, every painting is a typical and miserable landscape and you find yourself tired and wondering why your even there in the first place. Then suddenly, you come across the most beautiful painting. Each and every drop of paint on the page, every colour used and shape created was made for you and only you. That is the only way to describe how the boy looked at the golden haired girl sat next to him.
He asked her what book she was reading,
"None of your business." She replied.
Then he inquired what her name was,
"Goldie."
Really?
"No, not really. Idiots."
There was a moment silence where the boy simply stared at her in amazement and confusion.
"My name is May. Lilly May Williams."
Everything about Lilly May contradicted. Her back was as stiff and perfect as a right angled triangle, but her shoulders were too relaxed to be acceptable. Her legs neatly hung from her seat, but she they would swing from side to side every now and again. Her facial expression was reserved, but sometimes there would be a glimpse of a smile, right in the corner of her mouth. She was a lady, but not born and bread, only recently had she learnt the art of adequacy. This is why it took her a few minutes to remember what was correct.
"Richard. Richard Curtis."
He was the complete opposite to her. A gentleman from the moment his eyes opened to see the earth. He all his movements, expressions, gestures and statements had being engraved in him. However, there was a warmth in his face which could not be taught nor taken away, though it was clear that people had tried.
After that, they talked for hours, as though they had known each other their entire lives. In their small, peaceful and happy aura, they noticed no one and heard nothing. But outside the compartment, down the stretching corridor a pale woman stood. In the dark, it was hard to make out many of her features, but her luminous skin should her short dark hair, her navy cardigan, her smiling pale lips. Endora Rose had been carrying something for many years now, she had longed and prayed to be free of it, and now the end had come. She knew, from the second she had stepped onto the train, that this would be her fate.
As she flew, there was a moment where everything stopped. Her lifeless body hung in the air, gracefully, as the world held it's breath for the final moment of Endora Rose's life. Then the second was gone, and her body hit the ground. Heavy, harsh and hard.