hiraeth ➳ calum hood

one

Clutching the straps of my rucksack, I stare up at the massive screen in front of me showing the train times. Mine leaves in 22 minutes - just enough time to grab a majorly overpriced drink from one of the shops littered around London Victoria Station. The whole time I'm standing here people rush around me like birds in flight, each one of them with their own story. Sometimes I like to wonder what those stories are: mothers and daughters who have come to London for a girly weekend; business men and women on their way to important conferences; couples leaving for romantic trips to the countryside, and then the people like me - the people who are running away from something. I've always wondered what it'd be like to run away from home but I'd end up dismissing the idea, deciding that I would never know, because my home life could never get that bad. I guess I'd been wrong all of those times, but life is unpredictable I guess.

I speed walk over to one of the various shops at the station and grab the largest bottle of water I can along with a bag of dried fruit in case I get hungry. I give the cashier a five pound note to pay and I'm not at all surprised when he gives me 2p change - like I said: everything for sale at this train station is ridiculously overpriced. By the time I exit the shop it's 18:42 meaning I have 6 minutes to reach my train which is on the other side of the station.

"Shit." I mumble, shoving my purchases into my bag, whipping out my train ticket as I do so and legging it towards the barriers that separate the main area of the station and the platforms, I swipe my ticket quickly and carry on running towards the right platform for my train.

When I reach the train and hop on it's 18:46 - just in time. I look up and down the carriage, trying to see if there's any free seats. I spot one opposite a guy with headphones on with a suspiciously large bag on the seat next to him - he looks to be about the same age as me. I take my seat on the other side of the table and set my rucksack down next to me, trying to avoid any awkward leg touches in the small space the train company thinks is acceptable as leg room.

The boy looks up from his notebook when he realises I've sat down. I smile at him, but the gesture isn't returned. Rude. I fold my arms and sigh - this is going to be one long journey if the person I'm sitting with refuses to even give me a friendly smile.

As the train pulls away from the station my mind is drawn back to the reason I'm even on it in the first place, which in turn causes my eyes to focus on the unusually large bag I'd spotted earlier. So that's it then - this guy must be running away too. I mean, you could argue that he's just going away on holiday but he looks too young and too sad for that, so I'm sticking with my running away theory. But why? My curious brain just can't help but wonder why such a cute guy would want to run away from the life he knows. So I decide to just ask.

"Hey." I say, tapping his notebook in case he can't hear me over his music.

The guy pulls one of his headphones out and looks up at me, his expression completely unreadable by this point.

"Can I help you?" he asks, seeming kind of annoyed. But also kind of exhausted, the poor guy.

I motion to the bag sat next to him with my head, "What's with the big-ass bag?" I ask, "You hiding a body in there or something?" I add, trying to lighten things up a little bit.

He glares at me, obviously not appreciating the humour.

"Why do you care?" he asks, his eyes squinting ever so slightly in suspicion. I don't blame him.

I pat my own bag and shrug my shoulders, "I figured that we might be here for the same reason." I say slowly.

He raises his eyebrows, removing his second headphone and shutting his notebook, turning the source of his music off.