Purgatory Station

DON’T DO IT…

IT'S NEVER WORTH IT!

Violet stared at the obnoxious yellow sign in front of her—the bold, black letters accompanied by an outline of a figure falling down. It was hard to ignore, being the only pop of colour besides the yellow train platform in the white-tiled train station. 

How she arrived at the train station, that had no name—she had no clue in the world—never had she been there before. 

All she remembered was taking a bath and then going to bed. Almost by magic, she plopped into the mysterious place with no trace of how she got there. It must’ve been a bad trip, or a dream. 

She waited behind the platform, swishing saliva around her mouth, trying to rid herself of the dryness and strange chalky taste that wouldn’t go away. The slight pounding in her head was hard to ignore. She would need to pick up painkillers on her way home—if she could even find her way back home. It was quiet, except for loud sniffling and coughing echoed behind her, making her wonder if someone was crying or just had a cold. 

A train finally arrived, screeching on the tracks. People started to board while Violet looked around, hesitating before stepping off of the platform. She was already lost, the situation couldn’t get any worse. The train had to take her somewhere. 

The interior of the train looked normal, yet felt strange, as there were no maps plastered on the walls like a normal train. 

Violet looked to the back of the train—her preferred seating—which seemed quiet enough. The train moved, making her grab a pole for balance before sitting down.

A girl who looked her age sat on the seat across from her. A book hid her face, as she flipped pages with her fingers that were covered in silver rings and black nail polish on her nails. 

The book had no title, only a blank cover and back. 

No name, just like the train station.

Violet observed, wondering what the girl was reading, not noticing how much she was staring. Her stare was returned with a pair of dark eyes. Violet looked down, feeling ashamed. 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” 

Violet looked up, the book was away from the girl's face and in her lap. “You’re new, right?” 

Violet was confused, slightly leaning forward to hear better. 

“Sorry?”

The girl shifted in her seat. “I’ve never seen you around, just curious.” 

Violet swallowed, her mouth still feeling dry and chalky. She wondered how observant the girl was. “I’ve never been here before.” 

The girl looked amused. “I already knew that. I just needed a conversation starter.”

Violet had no clue what she meant by that. She wasn’t “new,” she was lost. She started to feel like she was the pun of a joke. 

“So how’d you end up here?”

“I don’t know…” Violet tucked her hair behind her ears. “I can’t remember anything.” 

“Wow, so you really have no clue, do you?”

Violet shook her head, in both confusion and as a response. 

The girl clasped her hands, resting them on top of the book. 

“I guess I should tell you—you’re here because you’re dead. You killed yourself.”

Violet raised her brows and scrunched her face instinctively. The girl had a strange sense of humour. Violet didn’t say a word, her expression doing all of the talking for her. 

The train stopped. Outside of the window wasn’t a new station, but a sandy beach. It truly wasn’t a normal train. People got off, and the train started to move again. 

The girl didn’t elaborate on what she said previously—standing up and grabbing a pole instead.  

“I’m getting off at the next one, if you wanna come.”

They stayed silent until the train slowed and a new stop appeared. It looked like a normal city, but not one Violet recognized. 

The girl made her way off the train. Violet followed behind her. She didn’t know why she followed her, but she felt an obligation, as if the mysterious girl were her tour guide.The girl’s presence was so intimidating, yet welcoming. 

They got off, landing on a colourful sidewalk. 

The girl turned to her and extended her hand for a handshake. “I’m Zoe, by the way.“

“I’m Violet.” 

She could feel Zoe’s cold rings touching her skin as they shook hands. 

Zoe lowered her hand and pulled out a box of cigarettes and lighter from her handbag. “You want one?” 

Violet shook her hand to say no. Zoe lit one, inhaled, and blew out a puff of smoke. Violet hated the smell of cigarettes, yet, she couldn’t smell anything. In that moment she actually  noticed how good Zoe smelt, almost in a comforting way. 

“I think you’re gonna like it here, Violet. There are no rules.” Zoe blew more smoke into the air, watching it disappear into nothing. 

Violet didn’t plan on staying there—wherever they were. She was going home. But she needed some things before her journey home. 

“Is there a store around here? I need to get some stuff. My mouth is so dry and—”

“I know a place,” Zoe interrupted. 

Violet felt so disoriented—not realizing that they were already  in a new area. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to her new surroundings. Time felt oddly different. It was the same way she felt when she first arrived at the station somehow. 

Zoe guided her past a bakery and a massage place. Violet’s stomach grumbled seeing the pastries and desserts through the glass window of the bakery. Zoe opened the door to a convenience store. 

It was a normal store—the first normal thing Violet had seen so far. She walked around and spotted the drinks, opening the sliding door to grab a water bottle. She scurried around to find painkillers but couldn’t find any. 

“What’re you looking for exactly?” 

Zoe startled her, making her turn around quickly to face her. 

“Painkillers or anything that’ll help my headache.”

Zoe scrunched her face. “You won’t find that here.”

Violet sighed. “Damn it…” she whispered, realizing something. “I don’t have any money.”

“You don’t need money here.” 

Zoe almost had a slight smirk on her face. Violet looked at her blankly. Zoe nudged her shoulder and guided them out of the store. Violet looked back anxiously—expecting a store employee to chase after her—but there were no consequences to her actions. 

Violet opened the bottle, chugging the water cold to soothe her throat. Zoe watched her intently. “Maybe that’s how you did it.”

Violet swallowed and lowered the bottle to speak. “How I did, what?” 

She put the bottle to her lips again. 

“That’s how you killed yourself.”

Violet almost spit out her water. 

“Do you remember taking a huge load of pills recently? It could explain the confusion, dry mouth—headache situation.”

Violet thought about it for a second—remembering taking pills for a headache before she went to sleep. That was all. She didn’t take more than two—or five at most. 

“But I didn’t take…”

“Dude I get it. It’s hard to admit that you did something like that but everyone here has done the same thing.” 

Violet was agitated. “Stop messing with me. I just want to get home. I only followed you because I thought you’d help me.”

Zoe paused and stared at her. Violet felt bad for snapping at the girl she just met but she felt like she was being lied to. She hated the way she was being stared at and analyzed. She felt insecure. 

Zoe took the cigarette out of her mouth and put it out on her arm. Violet cringed yet she couldn’t look away. She threw the cigarette on the ground. To Violet’s surprise, there was no visible mark on her arm. It didn’t make any sense. 

“See? I felt nothing. You can’t do this stuff anywhere else.”

Violet realized the reason why they didn’t have painkillers there. 

“So this is like…purgatory or something?” Violet was starting to question the suicide possibly, still not believing anything. 

“Not like purgatory. You don’t suffer here or pay for sins or whatever.” Zoe pointed to the sky. “Out there, that’s suffering—the real world, I mean.”

“There’s just no way…” Violet whispered to herself as she paced around, looking at her feet. 

“You can start your life over here. You can do anything you want. You can eat whatever you want and not gain a pound or smoke all the cigarettes in a pack and not get sick.” 

“How long have you been here? Have you tried to leave?” 

“I’ve lost track of how long I've been here and no, I haven’t. Why would I leave when this is better than what I had before.”

Violet almost felt bad for Zoe—her life must have been really horrible for her to enjoy whatever, or wherever they were. Sure, Violet’s life wasn’t so great either but she didn’t want to be dead. She didn’t want to start over. She had just started college. Her plans to move out into a nice apartment—get a job—and maybe get a dog or two would be squashed. 

And sure, she didn’t have any friends that would mourn her death or any family members that would care. She felt invisible living at home with her parents—almost unwanted. 

It was stupid of her to take the pills for her “headache.” She just wanted temporary relief from everything but she didn’t think of the consequences. 

The stupid pills just gave her an even bigger headache than she had before. 

Violet stopped pacing, remembering something that Zoe said previously.

“You said that you don’t feel any pain here, right?”

Zoe looked startled, not expecting Violet to say anything logical. 

“That’s right.”

“So why do I have a headache if I'm here?

Zoe put a finger to her lip, understanding what Violet was grasping at. 

“I didn't even think of that—Damn! I’m not as sharp as I thought I was.”

“That means something right? I don’t think I’m fully dead if I can feel pain.”

“It’s a possibility but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”

Violet started feeling a bit calmer than before. She still had a chance of being alive.

“I gotta tell you this, people who are already here can’t get off at the station you came in. It’s impossible.”

It was a chance Violet was willing to take—a harmless one at that. 

She made Zoe guide them to the nearest train. They sat beside each other on the train—silently observing other people the same way they did to each other when they met.

“You can start your life over here. You can do anything you want.”

Zoe’s words echoed in Violet’s mind but she didn’t budge. She wanted to go home. 

“Hey.” Zoe tapped Violet’s leg to get her attention. She was holding a pen in her other hand. Without asking, she rolled up Violet’s shirt sleeve and started writing on it. She finished writing, revealing numbers written in pen ink on Violet’s arm.

“If you run into trouble or get lost or something, you can call me. I sort of have a place I stay at and this is the phone number.”

Violet looked at her arm, avoiding eye contact. 

She couldn’t decide if Zoe was being truthful or sincere in any way. She had such a cold demeanor but she helped her ever since they met. She wondered how many other people Zoe made friends with on the train. Something told Violet that she was the first interaction Zoe had in a while. But it was that way for her too, she didn’t have a single friend in her life. 

The train slowed down. 

“This is your stop.”

Violet stood up, waiting for the train to stop completely. No one else got up because no one else could leave. People stared at her, probably thinking she was crazy for trying to get off. 

She didn’t say bye to Zoe and neither did she. In a strange way, she didn’t want to say bye to the girl she just met. Their eyes locked for a few seconds until Violet turned around to get off of the train.

She held her breath, praying that she would be able to get off. 

Her feet touched the yellow platform. 

She stopped holding her breath, looking around frantically. The obnoxious yellow sign wasn’t there anymore. The white tiles turned into gray ones—tiles she recognized. The station was loud and busy—filled with people walking hurriedly. It was the city station that she grew up going to.  

Violet turned around to see that the train she got off was already gone—perhaps it was never there. 

She ran to the bathroom in the station. She knew exactly where it was. Her reflection looked back at her in the smudged mirror. Her fingers reached out to touch the cold mirror. Her throat didn’t feel dry and scratchy anymore and her head felt completely fine. She was real—everything was real—not a dream. 

But everything that happened before was all a weird dream—she tried to convince herself that it was. 

Still not fully convinced, she turned on the sink, splashing cold water onto her face. The water ran down her arms, confirming that it was in fact not a dream. 

“Damn it!” 

Her sleeves were drenched in water. She rolled up her sleeves to dry off her arms. 

The blue ink was everywhere. 

She held her arm up in disbelief—streams of blue ink trickled down her arm along with the water. 

The numbers on her arm were smudged. 

Zoe grabbed paper towels to dry her arm quickly, trying to save the numbers as best as she could. Most of them were ruined but she tried to make the numbers out as much as possible. 

A few zeros—a two—either a nine or an eight.

Her arm dropped to her side, she wouldn’t be able to figure it out.

Zoe—she wasn’t a figment of her imagination after all. She didn’t even disclose her last name. It would be hard to find any information about her. 

Violet rolled her sleeve down.

She somewhat hoped to see Zoe again—in real life—but a dream would do just fine too