There's No Going Back

(Trigger Warning: Story contains mentions of abuse, substance abuse and depression.)

Raised wrong, abandoned at the age of five, left to fend for herself in the great big world. It already seemed like it couldn't get any worse for Willow, right? Wrong, it could. To add to the pain that was her existence, she also was assaulted at six years old on the streets, how she managed to survive as long as she had was truly a miracle. There was one shelter that really looked out for her, the people there had basically raised her.

Of course, as voluntary work is in this world, it didn't last, it closed a year ago when she was only fifteen, Willow was hardened by the world around her, she wasn't above stealing from stores and certainly wasn't above robbing people at night, thanks to the ruthless assault that showed her people would get over it. The amount of family photos she finds in wallets make her sick.

The part of town she was in was already rough, there was no one she liked or trusted, she had no intention of leaving it however, she knew how it worked, best places to sleep and how to deal with anyone else looking for trouble, she knew them by name at this stage, it was that bad.

On her way into a convenience store, she pulls up her hood quickly, slipping some food into her pocket while the shopkeeper was distracted. She partially guessed he had noticed but just let her off seeing how frail she looked. She went to an alley and began to eat but was quickly disturbed by the dropping of rain as it frantically picked up.

"Damn."

She muttered to herself, heading off towards a train station, down the steps, knowing she'd get some shelter there, just to get away from it. Winters were the hardest for her, there were more people hiding out in places like this, Willow liked her privacy but knew better than to expect any.

She sat down, leaning against a wall in the corner of the station. Willow spaced out, eyeing the people around her, envying the fact that they were probably all in a rush back to their houses, their families, their outlet to memories that weren't tainted by assault-

A train passing snaps her out of her thoughts. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to stay warm, pulling her gray hoodie closer to her neck, huddling up in it. She tried to get as much food as she could but she was caught often. She was used to taking water from taps though.

Fatigue must've been catching up to her because she found herself falling asleep, drifting away from the pain of reality for just a little while, it was good enough.... she was back... at the house she spent the first six years of her life in, her dad hadn't left her mom, everything was ok, her mom had a steady job and was more than willing to look out for her. Yet, in the end, Willow knew the outcome, her dad left, her mom broke down over it, lost her job, eventually lost her mind and abandoned Willow until the house was taken too.

Willow woke up, 5 a.m. was her guess for the time, the station was almost completely empty except for the stranger asleep on the bench, everyone was a stranger to Willow anyways. She stands up to leave the station but when she walks past the bench and glances at the sleeping stranger she stops dead in her tracks.

It's him, it's the guy, the guy who assaulted her when she was merely six. How, what the hell, why? Haven't I dealt with enough, after everything?

She thought to herself.

Obviously she was free to just walk away and leave, he wasn't awake and the odds of him remembering her were very low, but Willow couldn't move, all the pain she had gone through because of this guy.

Nights she woke up alone in an alley, crying, inconsolable, outlining all the bruises on her small body, she was just a kid.

She wouldn't have kept going after that if it wasn't for the shelter.

Of course the guy in question was certainly worse for wear, his life clearly had declined, yet the whole ordeal felt unfair to Willow, that he just got to carry on with life, after everything he put her through, he probably didn't even remember, probably had hurt many like that, whereas Willow still gets chills thinking about it, can still remember the exact places she was hit, the taste of blood from her busted lip.

She decides, albeit reluctantly, to walk away from him. Hitting him would have made her feel better for sure but was likely not worth the consequence nor would it ever erase her memories. She heads out of the station, up the stairs and back onto the streets, for another day.

It rained again, during the Winter she always slept in the station so it didn't matter to her, she headed back down the stairs and to her surprise, the guy was there again, she was cursing inwardly, wishing so many things but knowing all of them were futile. He was awake smoking a cigarette and she ignored him, he didn't recognize her either, she walked to the corner of the station and lay down there.

She couldn't close her eyes, kept watching him, perhaps the damage from all these years had proved too much for her to handle, she made the plan in her mind.

She was going to kill him.

Push him out in front of the 6 a.m. train and flee this town.

---

R.C. was the only name this guy had, he stubbed his cigarette out, watching as the station got emptier, ignoring the people that he knew were just sleeping here. He was one of them it seemed. He’d been out on the streets for what felt like forever. He used to have a normal life, yet he was never content due to the abuse from his father when he was a child, he was never completely happy. His wife couldn’t deal with it, he tried to cope alone.

He had a breakdown one night, got high, ruined his life, he had a fight with his wife and hit her for the first time and then stormed out of the house, and beat up a young girl who got in his way, not caring about her at all, until his high ended.

Everything in his life rapidly declined after that, he admitted to his wife what he’d done, she never let him near after that, he kept getting high just to feel something that wasn't pain. The night before his best friend's wedding, he slept with the bride to be. His wife found out, drew the line, divorced him and left him with nothing, naturally his friend didn't leave the door open for him either.

Yet R.C. managed to be stable for a while, hold down a job and a small apartment, yet guilt caught up with him every night until eventually he snapped and fell back into getting high all the time, everything slipped away once and for all that time. Now he was on the streets, used to it. He'd never hurt anyone for anything, not after that night.

He still cried alone just thinking about what he did, he doesn't deserve forgiveness he believes, so much so that he doesn't even try to beg for money, just lets people look right through him, before walking past.

He eyed a woman walking out of the station, she reminded him of his wife, she was confident and kept together, it broke him that bit more, knowing what he did.

Strangers seem familiar when you get hung up on the past, that was certainly the case for him.

R.C. looked around, seeing if he could find anything useful. He was a little skinny, had the same pair of loose fitting jeans for what felt like forever, same for the black hoodie. He finds nothing and gets up, reluctantly leaving what little warmth the station had to offer.

Sometimes the past seemed to just… follow him… he'd hold onto bad memories too often, which did him no favors.

Places from his childhood, those would've been happy memories had his dad not showed up and dragged him away from his friends, repeatedly until they stopped trying to find him, fearing his dad.

A street too painful to walk through, without remembering the young girl crying.

Anyone who hates themselves as much as he does would usually stop trying to go on at this point. Deep down R.C. wanted a renewing point, a chance to make everything ok again, fix what was broken in different ways. Who knows how far he'd get trying to do this from the street.

He had only returned to this town recently, unsurprisingly because he was too attached to it, also because he kept getting offered drugs more than he would've liked in the other town, he really did want to change.

It seemed this need to change was something he did just so he could say his dad hadn't won, R.C. had absolutely nothing but his dad still hadn't won. R.C. was alive, still had purpose, his dad never broke him.

He broke himself, he knows that looking back, which is why he wishes he was better at looking straight ahead, tunnel vision, block out the rest of the world for a little while, or just get a chance to fix what he did wrong.

There he goes, thinking about the past, again.

He brushes it off. Trying to do some good today, his last good deed that he can recall was taking a fifty euro note that was handed to him and giving it to an old woman sleeping outside a store. He had spoken to her once before and she mentioned she was trying to get money to visit her grandchildren again. It reassured him, he wasn't the only one with dreams still.

He figured there wasn't much point in trying, but he always did this once a month, he'd write out a letter, deliver it to his ex-wife and hope that maybe one day she would learn to love herself, that would be enough, he doesn't want to plague her life, he just wants to erase the pain she was put through by him.

He headed up to his old house, remembering all the times he came back here well-dressed after a day of work. He walked up to the door and for the first time it opened, he was greeted by a man he hadn't seen before, but the ring on his left finger was indication enough.

"You're her ex aren't you?"

The guy leaning on the open door asks.

"Yeah, I am, I assume you are her husband now. I am not jealous, I just hope she found someone in you, someone that helps her be herself again."

R.C. sighs out, turning and preparing to leave.

"Wait."

The guy says.

R.C. turns around.

"It's getting cold out there."

He closes the door slightly before coming back out with a jacket.

R.C. wasn't used to kindness, his ex-wife's new husband would be the last person he'd expect it from. He knew that this guy was exactly who he wanted to be and may never get the chance to now.

"Thank you."

He says and walks away from the house, for the last time, no need to come back, his ex-wife is ok.

He starts heading back to the train station as it was getting late, putting on the jacket, R.C. would be lying if he said he didn't wonder what his ex-wife had said about him, considering the guy didn't show resentment at all.

R.C. walks down the steps to the train station, he stares down over the tracks, it's well past midnight, closer to morning, an early train must be coming soon, everyone he saw when he walked into the station were all asleep. Made it easier for him to think.

He hears the train coming, about to turn around and sit down, when all of a sudden a girl grabs onto him, trying to push him onto the track, he barely manages to hold his ground, taken by surprise at the attack, something about the look in her eyes is familiar.

His survival instinct kicks in and before he knows it, he has pulled her closer managing to turn the situation around as she was now excruciatingly close to being shoved onto the track. R.C. is lost, he doesn't know what to do, he definitely doesn't want to feel like he has to kill her to save himself, he wouldn't want that, if he helps and pulls her away, she might just try to kill him anyways.

In her struggle she reaches for a glass bottle next to her and breaks in on the wall, holding the bottle cap up to him, she's leaning back too far, in range of the train, just about to be hit if he shoves her lightly. His mind is made up in an instant, he pulls her away from the track and she falls to the ground, seeing the train she just avoided, getting up and looking him in the eyes for a second, seemingly dazed, before running off.

She stops though, just stops and turns around, R.C. keeps his eyes on her.

"Why did you save me?"

R.C. shrugged.

"It was the right thing to do."

She scoffs.

"Yeah, because you know all about making the right decisions don't you?"

R.C. pieces the events together.

"Okay, I am guessing you know me somehow, just going off the attempted murder and your judge of my character."

"You could say that."

She replied.

---

Willow wasn't sure why she was talking to him, why he’d saved her or why she even cared to know. Still she wants to make this clear, get it out of her system.

"My name is Willow."

She speaks clearly.

"I've been homeless for almost as long as I can remember, when I was six I was assaulted on the streets by you, it still keeps me up at night. I saw a chance to put my pain to rest and I took it, I failed."

---

R.C. 's eyes widened, he couldn't believe it, he knew something seemed familiar but he was pretty much convinced that was all in his head. He sits on the bench, looking at the train, thinking.

"I remember you."

He sighs.

"Too well."

"You do?"

Willow asks, confused.

"I wasn't always like this, I never wanted to hurt anyone, I made a mistake. I know you won't believe me but I feel bad for what I've done, I really do, Willow."

He puts his head in his hands, contemplating every choice that led him here. Staying optimistic was impossible at a time like this, especially when confronted by someone from the past, he can't fix it but he can try.

"I'm sorry."

He sighs.

He hears her walking towards him, surprised when he looks up and sees her sitting on the bench beside him.

"Me too, for different reasons. I'm sorry this is my life, I wish none of this had gotten to me, even after all these years, I wish my family had stayed normal and happy, I wish my mom hadn't left."

She confesses, giving her life story to someone, who anyone with little context, would expect him to not care in the slightest.

"What happened to you? You said you weren't always like this."

She asks.

"What didn't happen is a better question."

He laughs in spite of himself.

"My father abused me, it haunted me for my entire life, my wife couldn't help, one day I snapped, hit her, had an affair, ruined my marriage, worst of all, I attacked you..."

He started, trailing off at that last part.

Willow scoffed.

"How? How is any of this possible? The odds that the one person to apologize to me is the same one that still causes me pain to this day, it makes no sense."

R.C. laughs too.

"Nothing makes any sense in this world. I'm R.C. by the way."

"What kind of name is that?"

Willow questions.

"Not my real one... I left that behind with my life."

She sighs, looking ahead as people come into the station, few giving wary glances to the pair. R.C. had abandoned his old identity but Willow made him realize that he was the same person no matter what had changed, no one could truly become anyone else, no matter how badly they wanted to. He turned towards her

"Here..."

He handed her the jacket.

"You need it more than I do."

He stated.

She takes it and sighs.

"I'm leaving this town, I can't stay here anymore."

R.C. nods

"That's probably a good choice, I hope you find a sense of purpose, or luck to get you out of this. "

Willow shakes her head.

"No such thing as luck."

She laughs standing up

"I still hope you have a miserable death."

She states a smile on her face as she begins to walk away.

"You're not the only one."

He replies.

"Willow?"

He calls, getting her attention one last time.

"My name is Noah, it will always be part of my identity, no matter how much I change, you made me see that."

She nods, turns around and walks up the stairs, leaving Noah looking out as the train departs, he stays alone at the station, Willow off to find a new purpose.