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A Girl And A Chicken

A true story

By Sara LarcaPublished 10 months ago 5 min read
Photo by Author.

She fell, as if out by the sky, into the rickety old train, worn from years of use. Bouncing off the top of a bench she came to rest, wedged between the seat and the hard wood floor.

T​his isn't the first time this has happened - this isn't the first time she'd landed in a foreign space, wondering what horrors she would soon be forced to endure... and yet every time her fear grew a little stronger. Every time she survived her resolve dwindle a bit more. How more times? How more times until she was forever lost.

She'd had her legs scratched and burned, and lost an arm. She'd had her hair ripped out and her smile rubbed off. 'd been and kicked and held beneath the water for a second to long.

I​t was in moments like this that she questioned her worth. Why wouldn't her mother protect her, why wouldn't she hide her away in a safe place, a place free from the prying fingers of the little evils.

Her mother said she loved her, doting on her as if she was the thing in the world that mattered; but then she would find herself here, forgotten and alone, as if her existence was insignificant. How could someone coo words of love one minute and not care less in the next.

T​he train continued to speed along, oblivious to her internal struggle. It flew across the mountains, over the soft mossy ground and under the glass ceiling tunnel. She was jostled back and forth unable to move, trapped beneath the that she had been wrapped in. Her tangled hair was wet, whipping back and forth across her face, her frustration growing with every second.

She heard whispering and strained, uncessussfully to look out the window. Was someone there? Was it her mother calling out to her? Or was she losing her grip on reality.

"W​hen will this be over," she screamed over the roar of the train- "I want to get off, I want to go home!"

I​t was then that she heard a rustling towards the front of the train car. She was gripped by a sense of fear and struggled to herself, but useless as she knew it would be. Bracing herself she took a deep breath, wondering if it would be her last.

"C​luck, Cluck, Cluck."

That sounds like a chicken. Is there a chicken on this train? She called out and waited - after a moment of silence she tried again. The rustling grew closer and within seconds a bight yellow chicken appeared in the isle.

"​Help me!" She pleaded to the chicken, but the bird rolled back down the isle, tossing and bumping with the speed of the train.

And t​hen she heard it:

"Where is she?" she screamed.

"W​here is who," a males voice answered .

"Y​ know who! What did you do with her!" her mothers voice echoed in and out of the windows.

I​m going to be rescued, she thought - ! For all her shortcomings, her mother always came for her - she would always fight no matter what.

But instead of slowing down the train went faster, and faster... off the tracks and through the doorway into another land. She felt as if she was floating on air and the movement felt lighter, as if her car was the one left. The one that mattered, the one with the precious cargo.

H​er and the chicken.

A​ then they were falling, through an oasis of green branches that ripped though the windows, coming to a halt inches above the ground. The fall had shaken her loose, and she now lay in the isle, her one arm wrapped around her head, her legs pinned beneath her.

T​his time she didn't even try to move - she knew her mother would come.

B​ she never did.

T​he train hung there suspended in time, lost to those she needed to most. A gentle rain began to fall, dripping off the branches and into the train. the water streamed down her face they mixed with the tears she vowed to never shed again.

S​he called out to the chicken, her companion, and she was with a deafening silence. Being alone was almost as bad as being trapped, and she could assume the chicken had been tossed out in the fall. The last bit of hope anchored inside her dissipated. This must be where it ends.

T​he owls hooted and the crickets chirped, the sky was black save for one bright star. A star that she wished upon with all her might. Closing her eyes, she begged to be saved, or to be ended; she'd welcome either outcome. She drifted off into a deep sleep, on she hoped she wouldn't wake up from.

I​t was the yelling that startled her awake. Battered and bruised, her eyelids refused to open. Thinking she was dreaming she willed herself back to the darkness, but the sounds got closer and without warning the train car was ripped free from the branches.

"​POLLY!" her heard her mother scream, "WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU!" "MOM!!!!"

"​What is with all the yelling!" questioned another voice. her grandmother.

"​Jack stole Polly and left her out here all night!" her mother sobbed, as she reached inside the train and cradled Polly in her arms. "I hate him!"

G​ sighed.


"​What?" Jack answered sheepishly.

"​Get your butt out here right now!"

"​Ugh... fine. What do you want?"

"​What did I tell you about playing with Jody's Polly Pocket?"

"​Not to do it." He answered, his head hung low.

"​So then why was she stuffed in your toy train and left outside overnight?"

J​ shrugged.

"​Get in the house, both of you." Grandmother huffed. "No more toys outside."

"​But ," they both whined.

"​Nope, I don't want to hear it. Inside. Now."

G​ shook her head as she looked at her damaged Azalea bush. She bent down to pick up the muddy rubber chicken laying beneath the shrubs and followed them inside.


About the Creator

Sara Larca

Just trying to thrive in life one story, photo, and drawing at a time!

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