First Time

Submitted by kneesoxz on Thu, 03/05/2009 - 8:07am

By Zoe Chaine
Marlboro Elementary School, Grade 8

I check my watch. For about the hundredth time. I’m not complaining or anything, but aren’t trains that cost over 50 dollars to ride on supposed to be on time? Yeah, and husbands are supposed to stay loyal. And well-loved pets are supposed to stay alive. And the human race isn’t supposed to be killing each other off like rats on rat poison. But shall we not go there?

I shake my head and consider leaving this waiting room where so many peoples' hopes have turned to colors of the wall -- a kind of depressing wash-out gray. Too much hope isn’t good for a little place like this. It just seems to attract lawyers. And Wal-Mart’s. Strange how that is. Big companies and money-loving people like to thrive on the happiness of others because, more likely than not, they don’t have any themselves. Hell with it, I’ll trade my happiness any day for the checking account of some big-shot lawyer. But then right now I’d probably give my soul to the devil if he asked for it in exchange for the train to come. Maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit.

I shift in my seat to look down the tracks. Nope, nothing yet. Well actually, I’ve never really had any need for my soul, not yet anyway. I suppose it might look good on my résumé when applying for a good place in heaven.

Name: Julia Bud

Birth: February 2, 1975

Death: Hmm . . . I don’t want to die young -- how about at eighty? So that would be … 2055. Sounds good.

Notes: Well, you see God, I made this deal … and … well, I have no soul. That OK? I hear you have a shortage up here these days, but still … I’m sure you got one rattling around one of your closets, right? Wrong? Oh well. Well, see ya around. Or not I guess…

I can’t help myself, I chuckle out loud and a few other tired-looking people glance in my direction for a moment before turning back to their own private thoughts. I look around. Nope, no sign of a scary man with horns and a pitchfork. Guess I’ll have to wait around for the stupid train to arrive. Or I could get up and live my life. There is that, I suppose. But I’ve always liked the sound of a ticking clock. Well, alright, I haven’t, but there’s always a first, right?