Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Use a line from a Shakespeare play as the title for your own piece of writing

"All that glitters is not gold"

As I stood on the platform, I reminisced about what I was leaving behind. I envisioned the look on my husband’s face as he woke up in the morning and realised that I was absent. I could almost feel his touch, every morning since we married he would, without fail, give me a peck on the cheek and play with my hair to gently wake me up. Standing amongst the city crowds, a tear trickled down my cheeks. It suddenly occurred to me that I was leaving everything. This was the first time I had a chance to consider my feelings, and for just a glimpse of a second, I wondered whether I was making a mistake. But I wasn’t, I didn’t deserve a family, not after what I had done.

I was brought up in the vast city of London. From a baby, I was surrounded by bright city lights and the madness of industry everywhere I went. My parents had brought me up as a city girl, they were a working couple. When I met my husband, I realised a busy life wasn’t for me. We settled for a peaceful life that focused on family values. I loved that about my husband; we wanted the same.

The happiest moment of my life was the birth of my son. Holding him in my hands, I saw him as a jewel- beautiful and precious. I couldn’t believe the intensity of the love I suddenly felt for something so small. Since that day, I have maintained a strong relationship with him. Family is important and I wanted to give him the gift of love and stability, which meant a lot to me.

A train whizzed past me, making the tail of my coat float up into the air. My memory flickered back to the long summer days we spent as a family. The endless glasses of lemonade we would devour during a picnic by the lake. This was undoubtedly bliss. I remember a dog running up to us, escaping from its owner. As a reflex, my son grabbed the bottom of my skirt, I guess he thought I could always protect him. I knew that, had my son been with me on the platform, he would have clutched on to the bottom of my coat every time a train rushed past, or a crowd flooded out of the ticket booth.

Anybody would wonder what could be so dreadful that would make me be at the platform, heading miles away on my own. You see, all that glitters is not gold; despite outward appearances, my life was not perfect. Throughout my life with my husband, I have always had a cloud above my ray of happiness. It has always loomed over me. That day. What I did. I will never forget it. And that’s why I have to go.

I couldn’t leave my husband and son without an explanation, I owed them a letter at least. It took me several attempts, trying to find the right words, trying to jot down my feelings amongst the sea of tears that kept splattering onto my note. It was finally done. The breakdown of my life was there on a page, and nobody would ever forgive me.  I got up in the middle of the night, lightly pecked my sleeping husband on the cheek and whispered my love for him. I then went to see my son, who was also sound asleep. A salty tear ran down my cheek as I kissed his head. When I went downstairs, I took a last glance around my home, the place that shared my fondest memories. I balanced my letter against the fruit bowl on the kitchen table and went into the black darkness. 


I sighed as my train came in and people started to pick up their luggage, barging to the front to ensure they got a seat. I glanced at the wedding ring on my finger before taking it off and hiding it in my pocket; I prepared to board. A ticket man ushered me onto the train and as I took a step forward I heard someone calling me. A familiar voice. I look around and saw a figure running towards me. I watched his slender body push his way forward. His feet tripping as he weaved between the busy crowds.  His hands were poised in a determined fist clench and his eyes, shining with the moisture of his tears, narrowed as his gaze met mine. He finally reached where I was standing and looked up at me with that face I knew too well. There he was. My son.

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