She places her bag by her side as she sinks onto the station bench, glancing quickly around before opening her book. The train is due in five minutes but there are not many people around. They’re spread out along the platform, perhaps ten or so, each of them alone. Closest is the guy standing by the wall on her right, absorbed in his paper, oblivious to her presence.
She sighs and settles into her novel. Someone slides onto the bench beside her and she looks up with surprise, she hasn’t heard anyone. There’s a young man sitting there, who glances at her as she looks up. Wow, is the first thought in her head. Good looking, but maybe a little raggedy. He smiles and she forgets the ragged part. She smiles and puts her head back in her book, but she can still feel him looking at her.
In the midst of wondering if he’s getting on her train or not she hears a yell, though distant, it slices into her distractedness.
“Hey!” The yell is closer and she looks up. “You…!” The sentence isn’t finished as bone connects with bone with a surprising crack, and she sees to her left the guy with the paper go down. A second man falls on top of him; a dangerously ugly look contorting his features, as he continues to punch into the man’s head. She feels her mouth drop open as she watches them, barely a metre away. There aren’t any words being thrown back and forth, instead there’s a grunting on both parts, and something like a groaning. When the guy on top pulls out a knife her heart drops to her feet and her body freezes in horror.
Someone is speaking beside her but she can’t hear them, and then suddenly someone has her by the arm and is trying to pull her up. The knife is so close to her she can’t remove her eyes from the silvery gleam as it shimmers in the air.
Just as she thinks the knife is going to connect and she’s going to pass out the guy on the ground lets out a yell and throws his attacker. She tries to get out of the way and realises suddenly that the good-looking boy beside her has hold of her arm and is trying to stand in front of her. But he’s too late to help her. The guy with the knife careens into both of them with a force she can hardly believe, and her next thought is that she’s falling. The next image before her eyes the dirty gleam of metal tracks and then blackness.
Opening her eyes she sees a creased brow, knitted eyebrows, and worried brown eyes. Her intended saviour is bending over her. A sharp pain slices through her skull and her eyes roll back in her head. “No, no. Come back.” She feels him shaking her and her eyes snap back open. He smiles. She tries to smile.
She realises suddenly that she is vibrating, and looks around in confusion. He realises at the same time and turns abruptly. The train is coming. Before the truth can even hit her he has her in his arms and is hoisting her onto the platform. All pain forgotten she scrambles into the arms of the people waiting there, of which there is now an alarming number. But barely safe she swings around to make sure he’s following her. She sees the train coming and all the breath leaves her body. Never before has she realised how fast trains move, and never have they looked as deadly as they do in that split second.
But there he is, before her, still tangled in the arms of the people who dragged him to safety, looking precisely how she feels. The train glides into the station indifferently, choking the air with burnt electricity. He turns to her, his eyes wide, and without hesitation she throws her arms around him, gripping him violently to her. She thinks she hears him laugh with surprise, but his arms circle her and he hugs her back.
When she finally pulls away he’s smiling. She tries to smile but imagines it looks pretty shaky and unconvincing. “I’m Justin.” His bright smile makes her blush as he holds out his hand.
She tries to smile again, and thinks perhaps she has partly succeeded. “Lucy.” She takes his hand. She’s thinking what an extraordinary story this is going to make when quite suddenly his face begins to fade before her eyes. She shakes her head, trying to clear the fog, but he continues to disappear and the fog seeps in all around her. Is she blacking out again?
A sharp movement to her right startles her and she turns in confusion. There’s the guy with the newspaper, leaning against the wall. She blinks and looks again. He’s standing there as though nothing has happened. She looks up and down the platform. Everyone is standing precisely where they were before. There is no confusion, no crowd of people, no train, and she’s sitting back on the bench. The reality drops dully on her. She dreamed the entire drama.
The guy with the paper doesn’t have a scratch on him, has never been attacked at all, but he’s watching her. Her eyes adjust to focus on him and she sees that he’s actually looking behind her. Justin. She spins around as her heart leaps in her throat and almost laughs joyfully aloud as she sees him sitting there with his perfect smile.
But there’s something wrong, she thinks. She understands it all too late as he stands abruptly and lunges toward her. There’s no kindness in his eyes anymore. He grabs her bag and bolts, followed by his friend with the newspaper.
© Sara Skinner 2008