It's All Worth It by Owen Brady

I stood on the platform and groggily watched the rusty train pull into the Canton Junction Station. The bone-chilling, screeching sound of the train nearly bursts my ears. The ancient train comes down the track like a car using its last drops of gas. It comes to a stop and all of the commuters morph towards the two doors of the first car. I slowly walk up the harsh metal stairs, feeling the heavy weight of my colossal backpack trying to stop me from proceeding upward. I begin, what feels like my long journey to the first car of the train. I pass the usual people and then take in the atrocious smell from bathroom that lingers in the air. I pass by the fellow commuters I see everyday, and I make it to the section of the two, old, beat up seats where my friends are hunched over staring at their iPads, racing to get their last assignments finished before school begins. I tell Trevor, "Move over," but I already know what the answer is. "You jump over me, I'm not gonna move." I awkwardly hop over him and his huge heap of stuff to quietly sit next to him, "Happy?" The hard seat is cold, and the old leather is uncomfortable. I put my backpack on the ground and begin to make a checklist in my head of all of last night's assignments. We all start talking to each other about homework and other unimportant topics. I am exhausted from waking up so early for this daily routine. Personally, six thirty nine A.M is not my favorite time of day. When I talk, I can’t even recall what I just said. All of my thoughts, dreams, and words are scattered around in my head. I am going through the motions again and again. The rickety train ride jostles me as I sit, and I remember why I do this commute. I travel many miles a day so I can go to BC High. Being at BC High is worth our early mornings, even if we are exhausted. When we get to South Station, one of the commuters, a balding man with his coffee and unmistakeable goatee, does us a favor and lets us out through the conductor booth when he isn’t supposed to. As I step off the train, he tells us, "Study hard, do good." His last words to us are, "Soar!" So I do, I guess.