I got up to walk through the sliding doors to the next carriage. Pixelated text ran across the top of them in neon red, appearing letter by letter from right to left. I stood to watch as the information passed above me…
NEXT STOP…………
…It read. The ellipses continued on and on forcing the N and then the rest of the word to disappear into to the walls of the train. After both words had been pushed aside by the steady stream of small red dots the screen flickered and then went black. I continued to stare to see if anymore information would appear. After a moment a red letter T came into view above the right corner of the door, then an O and an I. I watched until the words had spelled themselves out.
TOILETS THIS WAY
Always good to know.
Making my way through to the next carriage I swayed side to side as the train sped along the tracks.
It seemed the ticket conductor had been right, there were a lot more people in the rest of the train, almost all the seats were taken. I sat down next to a blonde haired lady in a thick knit cardigan; her face turned to the window. With no phone I had nothing to distract myself. I thought about trying to sleep again but I always felt awkward about napping next to strangers on public transport. I couldn’t help imagining my head sliding to the side until it came to rest on the shoulder of my unknown neighbour, saliva pooling at the corner of my mouth down onto their shoulder. Instead I simply sat, upright and staring ahead, very aware of my proximity to the lady next to me.
I wouldn’t say I had any real social anxiety issues. I’d never been diagnosed at least. But I was never very comfortable in public. Or comfortable with myself. I felt forever like a t-shirt that was either too small or too big, never quite looking right on the body, and as a consequence I was always trying to tailor myself to fit in, constantly readjusting.
The lady turned to face me; except she wasn’t a lady at all. She was a he. A man with long blond locks, slightly greasy that framed his face; a soft jawline with the beginnings of a wispy blond beard that gave some shape to it. He began to speak.
“Have you ever had that feeling at the train station?” He asked, with genuine curiosity as if I had any idea what he was talking about. He continued, not waiting for an answer. “The one where the announcement that the train is soon arriving blasts out over the tannoy and after a moment or two the rhythm of a train begins to rise steadily somewhere in the distance, coming to a head as it turns the corner to the platform, drowning out all other sounds of life. And you look at the edge of the platform and think, what if I just jumped…” 468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡclsJGV4rfu
He said all this whilst staring intently at me his eyelids half open giving him a listless look. His voice though, it wasn’t listless at all. If anything, it was rousing, there was passion, excitement in it even.
I simply stared back, not knowing what to say. This always happened to me. I always ended up speaking to people on the edge. I didn’t necessarily mind. I like to think I’m a compassionate person. I’d like to think I’d help anyone if I could, but sometimes it got a bit much and I wished I could just meet someone well adjusted for once. Maybe there wasn’t any well-adjusted people left, the number of colleagues I’d seen burn themselves out a work suggested as much. Back to the situation at hand.
“...It wouldn’t take much.” He said, as I tuned back in. “I’d wait a little while longer, until the last second, so there wouldn’t be any time for anyone to play the hero and run after me. Just before the first carriage passed the middle of the platform. I could do it. And it’d all be over.” 468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq1CTE4WkeS
He paused and I swallowed, the sound loud in my ears.
“The two thin yellow lines that run the length of the platform, marking out the farthest you should come to the edge, they’re not much of a deterrent, are they? If anything, they look more like a challenge; the markings to a long-jump pit painted in to tell me just when to jump after a short run up. But…” He announced, pausing once more.468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmLEYzW7uZH
His eyes were still staring towards me, but I no longer felt his gaze. He wasn’t on the train anymore; he was reliving the scenario. In his eyes I saw the platform and the train racing alongside it. I felt the ball of my foot push against the floor as I imagined him poised to sprint out over the platform edge.
“…But,” he repeated. “The train always goes past, coming to halt with an all too human sigh as its hydraulics relax… and I’m still standing there.”468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUVFIViXobO
I still had no idea what to say. What do you say to somebody that admits to thoughts of suicide? Although I have to admit I did kind of understand what he was talking about. I have definitely had the urge to jump out in front of a train before. Isn’t there some kind of death drive? That’s what Freud said, didn’t he? Maybe not. Maybe me and Goldilocks here are just one in a million and everyone else is well-adjusted. Still, something about voicing it in public like this to a stranger makes it that more serious than my own fantasies I create to pass the time.
“I have, thought about it.” I replied, finally. “I imagined running into the tracks before. I don’t think it’s abnormal. At least I hope not.”468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAEjdJfEmjJ
His eyes, changed, I saw them come back to his face, changing his expression ever so slightly as he refocussed on me.
“Do you? That’s kind of nice to hear. But does that mean we should do it?”
“I, um.” I stuttered. “I don’t know, I mean no. You shouldn’t do it. obviously.”
“I see,” he said, his tone suddenly dampened.
And with that he turned around and continued to stare out of the window as he had been when I’d sat down beside him.
“Look, are you ok?” I asked, feeling I shouldn’t just leave the conversation there. This was clearly a cry for help and as much as I felt unable to do that, I couldn’t just leave.
He said nothing, he only turned further away, curling his knees as far into the side of the carriage as he could.
Not knowing exactly what I should do and feeling as if I’d caused more harm than good I got up and walked down the aisle to find somewhere else to sit.
Grappling from seat to seat to keep my balance I shuffled down the aisle as I searched for an empty place. At one point it looked as though there were two free seats ahead, only to find them occupied by a teenage couple scrunched up against the window, wrapped in each other’s arms with their heads locked together at the mouth.
“eugh!” I announced, slightly more audibly than I’d meant to. Not that it mattered, they didn’t seem to notice. 468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlENWELBGG2
A short way down, I finally found a space in a four-seater around a table, occupied by what looked to be a mother and father with their daughter.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked awkwardly, not wanting to cause anymore unwanted harm.468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6hnV92DwkX
“Of course not,” said a woman who I assumed to the mother. I sat down, sliding between the seat and table opposite the father.
“Thanks.” I said.468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtksbV62vJa
Once again, I faced the challenge of what to do without my mobile phone, feeling even more awkward than before as I now had two people facing me as well as one to my left. I stared out of the window not knowing where else to look.
Without warning the mother lent over across the table, blocking my view of the window and grabbed the young girl’s right arm, pulling her towards her. At the same moment the father, sitting to the side of the girl threw his arms around her middle and began to pull back against the woman. The girl, now suspended in mid air in some kind of tug of war contest, simply smiled.468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFVAagIH42S
“What is going on?” I screamed.
And then the train was plunged into darkness.468Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDJ8bBII54Q
