Born to be a Passenger on the Train

warning: mentions and ideas of suicide

What James hated most about the train ride home wasn’t the mass of sweaty, middle-aged people rushing to get back to their homes in the city, stressed from a long day at work or desperate for some peace. It wasn’t the fact there was never anywhere to sit on the train, as people were selfish dickheads who took the table seats for themselves or put a bag on the budding chair and jammed their earphones in to avoid social interaction. It wasn’t the loud, irritating screech of the track every time it stopped. James hated the train. Why? Because it reminded him he was alive.

It was impossible to avoid. When on a 2-hour train ride alone every single day, 5 days a week, after doing a job which is not only unfulfilling and pointless but also drop-dead boring, thoughts tend to roam in his angry mind. Thoughts of escape. Escape from this thing they called life.

No. He wasn’t living. Living is being happy, doing things with purpose, having a purpose. Living is getting up in the morning and living each day differently. Living is having other emotions than just numb, bored, and angry. Living wasn’t this. James wasn’t living; he was simply surviving. And he didn’t want to do that anymore.

The train finally pulled into the station after being dreadfully delayed. The mass of sweaty limbs and flailing arms scattered to be first the doors, cuss words being thrown about the busy station as people were pushed, prodded, angered. James did what he always did. Waited. Waited to be the last one on, avoiding the people he had no interest in, and therefore have some sense of pride. As the last human got on, an old lady with thick grey hair and fiercely bright shoes, he finally made his way onto the train.

Busy. Very busy. The jostling had not calmed down as everywhere was someone desperate to get to a seat. He saw the flash of the poor old woman’s shoes as she pushed her way through a group of teenagers and was offered a seat by a person who was too kind for their own good. Kindness gets you nowhere, he thought, settling on standing by the door, holding onto the wall for support as the train began its routine.

The time went slow on the train, he realized, as if God were forcing him to live longer of this worthless life. The tree's flashed by the window and the sky was a big blue blur as they slowly rushed through the country in the train. Why get a job in London? Why not somewhere close? If anyone asked him what it was he did for work, he couldn’t tell them. It was mind-numbingly boring to say the least, a big pile of crap he had to get through each day. And then, to stick the nail in the head, he had to sit through the most stuffy, restless train rides, day after day, surrounded by people.

From somewhere to the right of him, through the door, he heard a child crying. Why bring a child on the train at rush hour? He thought, scoffing to himself. In fact, why bring a child on the train at all? He didn’t know why parents would want to make their children suffer any more than what they had to on earth. Life was tough enough without forcing innocent souls into a lifetime of hardship. That started with the routine of 2 train rides a day to get to a place called the office. No one was human anymore. Everyone was tired bodies dragging themselves around to get to the next place, wherever that was.

About half an hour into the trip, a voice sounded over the intercom, the same sickly sweet voice of the woman who called out that “We are very sorry but we are experiencing some technical issues right now and cannot continue the train at this moment. Please get off at the next stop and find refuge in the area. Once again, we are extremely sorry for any problems this will cause. Thank you.” James swore, muttered angry words under his breath as confused, tired, and angry passengers began piling towards the doors. Conveniently placed, he managed to get out first. The smell of coffee and trash-filled his nostrils, the disgusting, contaminated air feeling rotten, unbreathable. The station was busier than ever; he had to get out of there.

His feet carried him before he could use his brain and soon he was going out of the platform, to the escalators, up, off then out of the hellhole. Pushing his glasses up on the ridge of his nose, he grunted angrily at the delay in his plans. What plans? Going home, alone, eating a microwave meal for one, watching rubbish TV before collapsing into bed, and then what? Repeating. Repeating the same cycle every single day of his sorry, worthless life.

But maybe tonight would be different. Maybe he would meet another lonely soul at the station. Maybe they would drop their bag and James would notice, would be compelled by some invisible force to help them. Their hands would brush slightly as he passed them their bag, they would smile to each other, offer some words. Then boom. He would be saved. He would have someone, and his life would have meaning, and he would finally find his smile again.

Because right now, as he stood in the middle of the busiest station of his life, as people rushed by him like seconds on a timer, he had never felt so alone.

And then he knew what he had to do.

He was in a small town in the middle of nowhere. He noticed it every time the train passed, and few people got off. But now, he was here, and he realized what a dump it was. Countryside and houses and charity shops. That was all. But he walked through, seeing something up ahead that caught his eye. He felt a sudden need to eat, the smell of fresh pastries filling his senses, but he shook it off. Eating wouldn’t be needed anymore. From somewhere in front of him as he was walking, he noticed an old couple sat on one of the benches. Rubbish surrounded them on the street, and though the sky was blue, the day was cold. But they didn’t seem to be bothered by their mediocre surroundings. They were so lost in each other’s souls that it looked as if no force on earth could ever tear them apart.

No time. James didn’t have time to stare at two old bodies, barely clinging on to life, no, he had more important issues to deal with. But as he walked by them, he couldn’t stop himself from hearing the small “I’ll love you forever, my dearest,” the man whispered to his world.

When he saw it, he knew it was what he was looking for. He was well out of the town now, walking along a deserted path that led to seemingly nowhere. But he saw the bridge poking out from behind the clearing, noticing the deep river running through the ground. And when he reached it, saw its height, its danger, he knew this was what he was born to do.

Some people are just born so they can be passengers on a train.

The sky got thicker as James got up the bridge, clambered to stand on the edge. He should’ve felt something. Some nerves, some fear, some dread. But no. He was left with the usual feeling of numb nothingness that had loomed in him for as long as he could remember.

He inhaled one last time, breathing in the air, feeling it reach his tired lungs. He felt his eyes shut but his glasses, his damn glasses, were falling off his nose again. He groaned, opening his eyes, pushing them up the ridge of his nose, shuffling on the ledge of the bridge, ready, when suddenly…

A yellow butterfly fluttered by where he stood, its huge wings proud and bright. It didn’t have a care in the world as it made a pattern in the sky, stopping to show off its beauty before flying away. From somewhere in the distance, a bird sang its song, a tune so unique that nothing on earth could ever perfect it. The sound echoed into the wild as if uniting predator and prey. The wind blew suddenly, a breeze which made the trees sing as the leaves rustled in unison. There was another whistle from another bird, a different living animal that had so much story but no words. A bee buzzed by, the sound terrifying but satisfying, dangerous but wonderful.

And from up here, James could finally see the world.

He could see the trees, how tall and incredible and insane they were, with their strong bark and leaves which died but came back, even more beautiful than before and new each time. He saw how the sky wasn’t only blue, but it was endless, spread out across the entire world like a blanket, joining every country, every person in a hug. He saw the river, how it rushed, never stopping, always going somewhere. But it always ended in the same place. Joined by the rest of the water. The river had the same routine every day; only it was content to fill out its purpose.

And James saw the world. He finally saw it. He saw the beauty, the wonder, the danger. He saw the endless possibilities it contained. He saw what living was. What life consisted of. Adventure, courage, awe, and new things which can only happen when you take a chance. When you take a leap.

The world was more than a bustling train station full of people who always had no time. The world was beautiful. And, he realized, as he drew in the first real breath he had taken since he was a boy, feeling the fresh, meaningful air drift down to his lungs, that moments are timeless. That to live he would have to go out beyond the norm of stations and train tracks.

James carefully crouched, sliding off the ledge, feeling his feet hit the bridge which he realized wasn’t the only thing holding him up anymore. His legs felt light, and his mind felt free.

And for the first time in a long time, whilst the birds sang their tune and the butterflies spread their wings, James smiled.