destiny

I am so numb from last night. I have a train to catch, to get to my office, do my 9-5 job, and return home- go to sleep wake up and repeat. Like a clockwork. I am aware that I am at the subway in my 1500 dollar thrifted cyan pantsuit, the wind caressing my golden brown hair. And yet I couldn’t get my attention to how close I was standing to the yellow line.

Someone grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. I was jerked back to my senses.

“Watch it woman! Don’t be so trapped in your own thoughts. ”

I whispered a quick sorry but I don’t think he heard me. As the bullet train swished past right in front of my eyes, a surge of adrenaline shot through my veins. The sheer velocity and power of the train were enough to leave me in awe, but a chilling realization hit me—it had been dangerously close. The rush of wind, the thunderous noise, and the sheer force of the passing train were a vivid reminder of how close I had come to potential injury.

In that split second, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fragility of the situation. It dawned on me that I had been standing perilously close to the tracks, the boundary between safety and an unforeseen disaster. The thought of what could have happened sent shivers down my spine.

As the train disappeared into the distance, I took a moment to collect myself. The gravity of the situation lingered, serving as a stark reminder of the importance of caution around train tracks. The speed with which the train went could have injured someone, anyone but not me? God must have plans for me today.

The man who had pulled me back, a homeless man sat huddled in a corner, his weathered clothes telling a tale of wear and tear. His dishevelled appearance mirrored the harshness of life on the streets. ’Wisps of unkempt hair peeked out from beneath a worn-out beanie, barely shielding him from the chill that lingered in the underground air.

A tattered blanket, patched with remnants of a forgotten past, draped over his shoulders as he clutched a worn backpack, the only possessions tethering him to this transient existence. The lines etched on his face spoke of a life weathered by hardship, each crease telling a story of resilience in the face of adversity.

I heard another train coming; this was the train I was supposed to board. I rechecked all my belongings. My phone buzzed with a notification;

“Install new game today! Trapped”

Cherry on top.

The train stopped and no sooner did the sliding doors opened than a woman shoved me and marched past with her two children inside the train.

Talk about women bringing women down or well in this case “women shoving women aside.”

I picked up my supplies which now lay scattered on the ground, quickly boarded the train. Of course I have to stand.

I started thinking about my life again, suddenly how boring everything seemed to me, and how I had lost interest in screen writing (my favourite hobby) or spending time with my family or eating my favourite food in the world. Everything just seemed so boring. When we are young everyone assumes that we know nothing.

I started observing all the people around me. There was this you-tuber filming a vlog; mostly harassing the old woman sitting next to her forcing her to do the peace sign with her hand and pose to the camera.

The old woman used her stick to stab the girl. I let out a light laugh after such a long time, but then the old woman started hitting the girl, so some tried to stop her and the rest, continued making videos for Face book.

The train suddenly stopped mid tracks inside a tunnel.

It was pitch dark and not a soul could be seen, I could feel the kids terror and the women whispering. It was strange; London’s subways are so efficient and smooth-

Whispers turned into screams.

I looked on my left to find the entire compartment blown off, I could not hear anything, and it was so numb, a whistling shriek was going on inside my head, I felt like tearing my ears off because of the pain.

It was a strange view in front of me, an entire compartment blown away by some calamity which I was too disturbed to focus on. Right in front of me15 minutes ago was the old lady who was playful and the blogger who was filming. It felt as my eyes were not being able to send signals to my brain.

I clicked back to the reality when I heard shrieks of children in my compartment. They were clutching to their mother’s clothes so tightly.

I raised my hand from the pole to find it terribly shaking. I was baffled but it felt like having a Déjà vu, this situation didn’t feel new to me, like I was already used to the screaming and howling.

“THIS IS NOT A DRILL, WOMEN AND CHILDREN TO BE EVACUATED IMMEDIATELY. I AM REPEATING: THIS IS NOT A DRILL, WOMEN AND CHILDREN TO BE EVACUATED IMMEDIATELY”

The P.A. was shouting and soon came officers to our aid.

“You have lost so much blood but you don’t seem to be in any kind of pain and neither do your eyes show any panic.

How are you so calm?”

I didn’t realise but it turns out the woman was speaking to me and I was just too confused to answer. I looked around one last time and I saw a reflection of me, I was staring back at myself and it didn’t seem like I had lost any blood. I looked fresh just as I had left my house in my new pantsuit this morning for my office.

I tried to calm myself down and shut my eyes.

Open.

I found myself on the platform again and a man had pulled me back,

“Watch it woman! Don’t be so trapped in your own thoughts. ”

But this had already happened, I heard another train arriving.

Why is everything repeating in a loop?

Then it strikes me.

I am trapped inside my dream, which I had when I was 5.

TRAPPED.