I squatted there, next to my two pieces of luggage. The others had been taken away to pay a fine and I was left, eyes squinting and head nodding, trying to parse the continual pain now that I was given a chance.
Another flood of people funneled down the escalators. The sign jumped from 1:00 to 0:30 to 0:15, and there began that high-pitched shrieking, faint and ethereal at the start – was it there, or was it just another hallucination? – and it grew and grew and the deep guttural churning roar of a tortured ancient beast of burden joined in. Amidst this a wind began, first a soft breeze and later a wind tunnel test. My hat blew off and fluttered into the metro tracks.
And there, as the metro just began coming around the turn, its lights starting to illuminate the tunnel, the strain began. My muscles tensed, my previously half-open eyes bulged, my teeth ground and I clutched my head tight in an attempt to feel some pain. Some more pain.
My legs kept making as to get up and then giving up halfway. How I longed for that final impact, A sudden thud and twisting and dismemberment and nonexistence. How I craved nonexistence. Even heaven would be hell for me.
This would be perfect, right? Away from those who would care. Well, the others had said they cared. But did I care if they cared? I hardly knew most of them, and disliked a majority. What fucking shortsightedness had prompted me to go with them.