THE SWEETEST

Two Years Later The bench was cold. It was a deep, biting cold that seeped through Anna’s coat and settled right against her bones. She didn’t move. She just sat there, her hands buried in her pockets, staring at the spot where the yellow safety line had started to peel. Her right hand was closed into a tight fist around a small, jagged piece of glass—a shard of a broken medicine vial she had found in the dirt between the tracks. It was a souvenir of a life she wasn't supposed to survive. Two years. To the rest of the city, Platform 4 was just a place where people waited for the 6:15 express. But to Anna, the air still tasted like iron and betrayal. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the screaming—not the train’s whistle, but the human kind. The kind that haunted the halls of Westwood Medical College. People walked past her, their footsteps echoing against the concrete, oblivious to the fact that they were walking over a graveyard of secrets. They saw a girl in a worn jacket waiting for a train. They didn't see the girl who had watched her world splinter into sharp, unrecognizable pieces. A gust of wind kicked up a discarded candy wrapper—bright red, crinkling against the ground. The sound was like a spark. Anna’s mind fractured, the cold of the present melting into the stifling heat of a morning two years ago. She could almost feel her mother’s arms around her again. She could almost hear Jerry’s voice, before it had turned sharp with a different kind of worry. It had started here. On this exact platform. Before the poison. Before she realized that some people return from the dead, but they never come back whole. --- Two Years Ago "Anna, take care. Be good—and don't get into any trouble." Her mother’s voice didn’t just tremble; it frayed. She hugged Anna so tightly that Anna could feel the rhythmic thud of the woman's heart against her own ribs. Anna forced her muscles to relax, offering a smile that felt like a mask. "No, my Gracie," Anna whispered, using the name that felt like a secret between them. "I'll be a ghost. No noise, no trouble. I promise." But as she pulled away, looking at the familiar lines of her mother's face, a strange, oily sensation of dread settled in Anna’s stomach. She was nineteen. She was supposed to be excited. She was moving to Westwood to learn how to save lives, leaving behind the small-town shadows of what had happened to Iza. "If you two keep standing here and staring at each other, you'll miss the train. Just go. Quickly." Jerry was standing by the luggage cart, his jaw set so tight Anna thought his teeth might crack. He was trying to be the protector, the "Man of the House," but his eyes were darting toward the dark tunnel the train had just emerged from, as if he could sense the shadow waiting for her on the other side. "Jerry," Anna said, stepping toward him. "Take care of them." He didn't hug her. He just gripped her shoulder, his fingers digging in for a second too long. "Just get on the train, Anna. Don't look back." The announcement for the train’s departure cut through the air—a sharp, lonely shriek. Anna hauled her bag onto her shoulder, the weight of it pulling her toward the silver doors. She found her seat in Carriage B and pressed her forehead against the glass, watching her family shrink until they were just colorful dots against the grey station. Pull the chain, a voice hissed in the back of her mind. Pull the emergency cord. Run back to the car. Stay in the sunlight. Instead, Anna reached for her earphones. She turned the volume up until the music was a wall of sound, blocking out the world. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm of the tracks lull her into a false sense of peace. She didn't know then that she was heading toward a university built on silence. She didn't know that by the time she came back to this platform, she wouldn't be the same girl who had left it. When Anna opened her eyes again, the world was draped in night. The compartment had grown crowded, the air thick with the low, tired murmur of travelers. She took a slow sip of water from her bag, her gaze drifting forward as she tried to shake off the heaviness of sleep. That’s when she saw her. The girl in the seat directly ahead felt… familiar. It wasn’t immediate recognition. It was softer than that—like a memory brushing past her, refusing to be caught. Anna watched her quietly, noticing the slight tilt of the girl’s head, the stillness in the way she sat, the small, absent-minded movements of her fingers. Something about her tugged at Anna’s chest. And then it came. A sudden image, clear and bright—like an old photograph pulled from the depths of time. A little girl with black curls, fair skin, and a soft, easy smile. Azeela. Anna’s breath caught. Was it really her… or just someone who reminded her of a past she had tried not to revisit? --- Once, there had been four of them. Azeela. Jenny. Iza. Anna. Anna leaned back slightly, her thoughts drifting further. She and Jenny had met in kindergarten, their friendship born out of constant fights over toys and silly arguments that never lasted more than a few minutes. Somehow, those small battles turned into laughter, and that laughter turned into something stronger. They grew up side by side, inseparable without even realizing when it happened. Then, in first grade, Azeela and Iza entered their lives. They were cousins—close in a way that felt effortless. At first, Anna hadn’t liked Iza much. There was something about her confidence, the way she carried herself so easily, that made Anna uneasy. Iza seemed to belong everywhere without trying. But over time, things changed. Slowly, without any single moment to mark it, the distance faded. Conversations grew longer, laughter came easier, and before they knew it, the four of them had become something whole. They shared everything—stories, secrets, small dreams whispered during lunch breaks and long walks home. There was always noise when they were together, always movement, always life. And somewhere along the way, they made a promise. To stay together. To study together. To make it to Westwood University, no matter what. Anna had believed in that promise. For a long time, it had felt unbreakable. But somewhere… something shifted. Time passed. Things changed. And without any clear reason—without a fight, without words—the four of them slowly drifted apart. Messages became shorter. Meetings became rare. The laughter that once came so easily turned into silence. Until one day, it was just… gone. --- The steady rhythm of the train eventually pulled Anna back into a light, restless sleep. When it reached her stop, the sharp sound of the brakes brought her back. She stepped down onto the platform, pulling her luggage behind her, the cool night air brushing against her skin. A small café near the station caught her attention. She walked in and ordered a coffee, hoping the bitterness would clear her thoughts. As she turned away from the counter, she collided with someone. “I’m sorry—” Anna began, the words slipping out automatically. Then she looked up. Her breath stilled. It was her.the girl from the train. Up close, there was no doubt now. The girl’s eyes widened, filled with surprise… and something deeper. Something that felt like it had been waiting. “Anna…” Hearing her name in that voice made everything fall into place. It wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t a mistake. It was Azeela.