I would like to tell you what happened that night. It was about twenty years ago. I can only remember part of the story because it all happened too fast. My memory is not as good as it used to be in the old days.
I had just arrived in London a city famous for the underground, double-decker buses and Buckingham palace. I was an adventurous journalist. Famous worldwide for solving crime and bringing your Times to you every day. The train pulled up on platform eight on king`s Cross St.Pancras. It was the sort of train you would get if you were going to Berlin or Paris. A double-deck train with Virgin labels on the side and a stained glass roof . Inside it was a modern carriage with light on the floor and a red velvet carpet. The seats were made from leather with first class service from the staff.
All you could ever want for a five-hour trip from Rome. I was heading home from my frightful time in Rome. I had been sent there to interview the Pope but when I got there the worst was expecting me. I got kidnapped and found a criminal gang smuggling weapons. I knew what I had to do. I escaped from the kidnappers and got evidence for the police. And before I knew my time in Rome was done.
“This is King`s Cross St.Pancras. Change here for the northern, Piccadilly, Hammersmith and City, Circle, Metropolitan line, National and International trains.” Said the announcement as I got off the train and followed the way out sign. When I was out of the station I went looking for a taxi. I had been searching for ages then there it was the only one I had seen all day. When I got in I said Baker Street. As soon as I said “Baker Street” I realized that the man’s eyebrow went up fast than the Apollo eleven. Then I looked closely at his face it look identical to the man who I took the photo to show the police in Rome. Maybe he was a twin. I tried to seem as nothing happened but it was hard. Then out of the fog I saw Marylebone station. I knew we were close.
When I got off I waited for the man to leave. Eventually he did, so was he the same person or perhaps his brother? I knew that when I got hotel I had to investigate this case. Then I got in the hotel. There was a glamorous chandelier with golden rays of light being reflected off it. When I got up to my room I immediatly went into the case. I saw the man`s picture on a shop called Dolls. The newspapers caught my attention. On it there were cases of people missing but the strange thing was they all went missing in the same road next to the shop called “Dolls”. And the even stranger thing is that they all went missing at the same time. At precisely 6:30, rush hour. That gave me ideas were they very organized kidnapper, criminals seeking attention or were the people who had something in common. The ideas kept on coming through the night.
In the morning I decide to go to this shop called “Dolls”. I got on the 139 going to Waterloo station. I head down to the south of London. As the bus crossed the river I notice that the houses changed from bad to worst. They seem gloomy in this part of town. The fog had just gone down as we approached Waterloo. I got off the bus looking for the road named “Summer Set Avenue”. My search went for hours which seemed like weeks but eventually I had found it and the shop. I had been looking for ages it was almost rush hour the time the beast strikes. I made my way up the street, growing my confidence with every step I take. Knowing that I would be a hero or I would join the other in their perishing days. In the shop window a little door opened with a doll coming out of it. It was me. I was speechless, how do they know me?
I entered the shop, a little bell rang as I opened the door. There was no one in the shop. I walked cautiously. A doll fell of the shelve. My heart was beating like a drum. Then I heard a strange sound it sounded like a machine with cogs turning and whistles blowing. I felt a shiver up my spine like someone going to attack me. Then the hand struck 6:30. I felt the floor moving spinning upside down.
And there I was sitting in the window sill for eternity. Watching the world fly past me like a bird, through the eyes of the doll that I was speechless about . I still think until this day how young I was and my days on earth were being counted.
By Danilo De Souza