Pulling up outside the station, she turns off the engine and sits there staring at those going about their daily commute. Since that day all those years ago, tens of thousands had passed through, and yet this was the first time she’d set eyes upon it. Just another place, and yet to her, it was as sacred and as holy as the womb, and just as dangerous. Bowing her head, she peers over the steering wheel with shaky hands. On the pathway leading to the entrance, she sees a younger version of herself adorned in a black dress with patterned tights, hair down to her waist with lips as red as blood. He’s standing before her, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket with eyes as red as her lips. Some argument among many others. She can’t remember what. She does remember she was hungry though, hungry enough to declare that she didn’t love him anymore with a cruel sneer. She didn’t mean it of course, but she was hungry, and he was asking all the wrong questions just as he always did. As soon as the words left her lips, she’d wanted to take them back, but it was too late. The pain was there in his eyes, etched into his cigarette scented face. He’d tried his best not to, but there were tears which made it all the more worse. She’d raised an apologetic hand, but he’d slapped it away before storming off. She’d called after him. He turned, withdrew a clenched fist from his pocket and then threw the necklace at her which she’d left around his after showering. It had been an engagement gift. One he’d had engraved with both their initials. As it flew over her shoulder, she went to speak, but he’d already turned his back on her with one final fuck off. Disappearing into the station, she made to go after him but broke down in tears on the way. Looking behind her, she’d bent down trying to find the necklace. Sobbing as she crawled around on her hands and knees, she could hear his train leaving. Could feel him being ripped out of her. She couldn’t find the necklace, and as she scampered around with tears rolling down her face, those walking by didn’t say a word, they just left her to it. She kept saying his name until her voice broke and all that came out were thin, raspy croaks. Scratching at the ground, she couldn’t see anything through the tears, and when her fingers begun to bleed, she’d brought them to her mouth, rocking back and forth not knowing what to do. And still people walked by without saying a word, not wishing to get involved. And she never saw him again. And there were no more words, just a silence that had never shifted.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US