The train is going downhill, it starts to speed up slowly, and you wonder why. You visit the engine of the train only to find the driver unable to reach the break handle for some reason. You have to stop the train before anything happens.
I woke with a start when my head bumped against the window I napped on. The train was moving again, and one of the wheels ran over a small stone like a kid tripping over a tennis ball. It shook violently, the sound of the wheels ricketed and racketed louder than ever. Winds blew rapidly against the window, making a rattling sound. In the distance, small buildings could be seen and the lazy orange sun heading towards the horizon. We were going downhill, and the train had no intention of slowing down. Constant mutterings of passengers around me rose to a louder murmer, with eyes peeking out of the window anxiously and fidgeting uncomfortably. I touched my head then got a feeling I'd be travelling with a headache sooner or later.
Moving up the shaking train, I stumbled to the end of the carriage. I pulled open the metal door after unlocking it. The first wave of warm wind blew in, attacking their first victim. My hair flew crazily, I pushed it behind my ears then carefully stood onto the two flights of stairs attached to the carriage. Two poles stuck out vertically beside the door, above the steps, I couldn't believe I was doing this again, especially while the train was moving. The train tracks below me rapidly disappeared one after another. The noise roared at me, making me shudder. I pulled the door of the carriage shut. Then I took a deep breath and jumped onto the next carrige, my fingers glued to the poles as soon as they touched them. I shifted myself so I stood on the steps of the other carriage, flung the door open and slipped in quietly.
Reaching the engine of the train, the floor of the train wobbled unsafely, making me steady myself so I got some balance. Several times earlier, the train had almost flew off the track. In front of me stood the door of the control room. Knocking gently, I pushed it open, only to find Thomas with his hands clutching his throat tightly, groaning.
"Thomas?" I shouted and rushed over to see what was wrong. He gasped loudly, as if struggling to breathe. An unfinished plastic bowl of fruit salad laid spilt on the floor.
"Swallowed....pineaplle," he choked out. "Can't.... breathe." I ran over immediately, remembering the first-aid sessioun I went to before travelling. Lifting Thomas up from behind, I punched upwards from just above his belly button. He whimpered in pain, I did that another four times, then thumped his back five times, before repeating the procedure again. The lack of oxygen made the driver weak. Suddenly, just as Thomas was on the edge of becoming unconscious, a thrust from my hand sent the piece of pineapple flying out from his throat and it landed on the floor, looking all innocent. Thomas sucked in a large amount of air desperately, glaring at the chewed block of fruit.
"Thank you!" He exclaimed between breaths. I nodded and sighed in relief, then the shaking train reminded me the purpose of me being here. Looking out of the front window, I saw the scenery fly past like the wind.
"Thomas!" I yelled over the loud noise, "The brakes! The train is running to fast!" He glanced out of the piece of glass nervously, then reached for the brake handle, and pulled it towards him. I smiled as I felt the train slow down to its normal speed.