Where are you, Dad?

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Rafiul Anwar 10C8

Where are you, Dad?

My throat felt as dry as powder. I could hear my heart beating wildly. I was looking everywhere, trying to locate him. My dad was missing.

I was holding my mum’s hand. I could see that she was searching for my dad too. Beside me, was my older sister. Her eyes were full of panic.

The train station was quite dark. There were a lot of wet footprints on the ground. The rain continued to pound outside. It had not rained for a while. There was a repulsive smell in the air. I was not sure what it was or where it was from. He was lost in the rain and the dark. I felt lost too.

Where is he? Why is he not here? A thousand questions raced through my head.

We were going to get on a crowded train from the King’s Cross underground station to Euston station in London. Only my dad could enter before the door automatically shut. My mum, my sister and I were denied entry.

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        I wondered where he was or what he was thinking. It was the first time I could remember being on a train. I just wished there was a way that I could communicate with him. I looked at my watch. It was 11.35 am.

        We decided to go Euston when the next train arrived to see if he was waiting there.

        The train was crammed full – we had to stand up for the whole ride. There were about twenty seats against the wall on both sides of the carriage with a big space in the middle where a ...

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