Content warning: suicidal ideation
Her father looked towards the approaching train, but he didn’t seem as concerned as the four-year-old holding his hand. Knowing that his answer would be swallowed by the train’s horn ringing out as it slowed to a stop, he settled for smiling at her pouting face and scratched at his stubble chin.
The two entered the train. It was crowded. They barely had space for her to stand between his steel-toed work boots, so he picked her up with one arm and held the blue strap dangling from the rail with his free hand.
“You’re going to be late,” Suri whined. “We missed the train we’re normally on.”
“Suri McAllister,” he said, his tone an almost sing-song quality. Something he used to placate her. “Think about now. Not later, okay?”
The nervous girl tugged at the collar of her burgundy coat and fussed with the baby blue scarf around her neck until her father adjusted them both for her. When a kind passenger saw the pair, he offered them his seat. Her father thanked him and sat the girl on his lap. He quickly began busying himself with a crossword puzzle that she wasn’t old enough to read yet, and the girl who would normally have slept on their earlier train, became disgruntled on this one.
“Right now, I’m bored,” she said.
He laughed and folded the newspaper in his hand, tapping it against his faded jeans as he looked around curiously. “Let’s play a game then.”
Suri nodded in excitement as her father continued, taking advantage of her enthusiasm.
“Let’s see who can find the most interesting person before our stop.”
The girl looked around before fully understanding what she was doing, only knowing that she wanted to win the game, but frowning when she realized that she wasn’t sure how.
“Interesting? What’s that?”
“You know, interesting,” he poorly explained. “Find the person who, the one who…”
He readjusted her on his lap and bit his lower lip in thought—a habit she had recently began to inherit. She fussed when he placed his chin heavily against the crown of her head, accidentally shifting the knit hat she wore. He fixed it, fluffing out the pom-pom bursting from its seam, before clarifying his words from earlier.
“The most interesting person, well, that would be the person who you would want to ask the most questions to. Let’s see who could find them first.”
“Deal.”
***
Another loud fit of giggles from the girl who was now boarding one of the incoming trains with her father made Suri’s recollections flip upside down. Her already frayed nerves completely unraveled.
Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and her fingertips grazed the wetness that had formed on her cheeks. With a gasp, as if she had stopped breathing altogether, she took a step away from the edge of the tracks. Then she began to pace in a brief, anxious circle.
That wasn’t something that she needed to remember. Not right now. Not today. She wiped the moisture from her face.
She had to stop being so indecisive. She had to commit to her decision. Nothing was going to change her mind. Nothing could be as important as what she had lost nor could anything be regained from a life as cruel as this.
In a few minutes, her train would be coming—the one she had scouted out and was currently waiting for—making today the last ‘today’ that she would ever have to suffer through.
There would be no tomorrow.
She stepped forward once more. Her toes would have curled around the edge of the tracks if it weren’t for the thick soles of her cheap shoes. Despite having brushed the tears from her face, more quickly came to replace them. They trailed and smeared across her cheeks.
A rare few broke from the curve of her jaw and down into the tracks. As they did, they plopped onto the hiding creature tucked against the wall.
She hadn’t noticed the small animal, never would have if she hadn’t startled it and caused it to flap the moisture from its tussled, dirty feathers. The strong thrumming of its purple wings and the shrill twitter it released when it was cried on startled Suri in turn, making her jump with a start and rock precariously on the edge of the tracks.
She held her arms to her side to regain her balance. The stupid thing had almost made her fall in too soon.
With a frown, she scrutinized the shoddy little bird. If it were cleaned up and healthy, it would be a pretty fowl. A stunning, almost glowing violet tinted each of its small feathers, or at least that was what she could glean through the mud coating its back and tail. And once it had calmed down some, its desperate sounds of surprise were replaced with a lulling song. She could also see that only one wing seemed to want to take off; the other hung out uselessly to its side.
It would be her and this bird then. Both useless, both tragic, both just moments away from an end to their poorly constructed existence. It was unfortunate just how annoying the bird was though.
She couldn’t help the regular chatter and clamoring of the station, but she really wished that it were quieter as she contemplated her final moments. The laughter was gone, but there was still the everyday talking, the musicians drawing the crowds away from her, and the bird pointlessly flapping. In fact, it sounded like it was chirping much louder now.
“That’s totally annoying,” she said.
“I agree.”
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