Caroline Pitone - Memory Reconstruction

Adventures and flames. It was 6 pm on a weekday night. It was the summer time. The sun was beginning to set and the air was dry yet hydrating at the same time. We were at an abandoned house along the Schuylkill. As we were about to climb into it, we heard the rumbling vibration coming from the train tracks behind us. It was time. ¨Let’s go¨, Daniel said. We all dropped our bags and locked up our fixed gear bikes against the rusty fence. We climbed the fence and hopped over it to the other side, accumulating rust all over our palms, and leaving us with a metallic smell. We all waited for the trains to come, I had a gut feeling this time wasn’t a good time for this activity, I was right. We all hopped on one by one. There were 5 of us. We were cruising on the train, going slow and steady. We would wave to the runners and the bicyclists going by, and they would stare back confused. I was confused too. I noticed the train had started to increase in speed. It became evident that it was going faster than we had hoped. I looked around at my surroundings and everything began to run past my eyes as if I was in a car going 90 on the highway. I looked around and saw no sign of people. I turned around and there came Daniel, ¨we have to get off!¨, he quickly scurried, leaving me to figure this out for myself. My cart was in between another, and there were gears all down by my left, one wrong move would have been me falling to my death.

Obtaining the courage to cross the other side felt impossible. Avoid the gears, and hop off, I repeated to myself, but time was cutting short. I had to get off soon before the train began to intensify in speed. I crossed over, panicked, and looked down at the end of the train, there stood Daniel, waving. I loaded my arms onto the ladder and tested the speed with my feet against the ground. My foot kicked back from under me, at this point the train would only be getting faster. My body hit the ground of gravel, and the pebbles and stones rubbed against my skin, tearing some parts open. Looking down and no longer seeing my legs makes me grateful yet regret every part of it. I have yet to learn.