Emotional

I chased the train down and and caught it before it began to roll the wheels. Streams of sweat formed two distinct lines down my cheeks into the mouth and from neck into my clothes making it soaked. I found a corner seat devoid of social interaction or casual stares from strangers because I, exhausted from a busy day of work, desired nothing more than peace. However, a woman in her thirties and her son had somehow picked up seats next to me as if vacancy was an issue. The train was empty due to they stay-at-home order that also rendered the streets, market places, churches, and so on, unoccupied by the worried citizens out of fears of getting contracted with the coronavirus.

As a nurse, it was my duty to come to work on time and leave work late. The demands of healthcare workforce have been on the rise because of the pandemic. It’d claimed the fates of many people from affected patients to doctors and nurses alike. If it hadn’t, the stress of having to work extra hours daily would soon precipitate lonely suicide attempts across the country. I left work grumpy and frustrated because the patients kept making unreasonable requests and doctors hurried us to move nonstop as if we weren’t. I got caught up in two extreme ends of the spectrum where both the doctors and colleagues produced the same emotional response: rage.

The married woman next to me on the train, inconsiderate and rude, commenced to slashed out her son because he lost the new toy. She didn’t want to listen to his side of the story before making the subconscious decision to hit him on the shoulder more then once. He didn’t stand up to his mother and run or called for help, which made me outrageous at both the mom for abusing her son and the little boy for not retaliating the blatant mistreatment.

“Where did you lose it, you stupid retard?!”

“I forgot, mom.”

She patted him on the shoulder rendering his eyes red and tears trailed down the cheeks, which I could swear to be commensurate with my exacerbated sweat. I wanted to switch seat to avoid the escalation of tension present in this part of the train. But the heat was what excited me and compelled me to heed for more. I yearned for more screaming in quantity and quality; the moment she raised her voice to make points across or when the boy threw the other toy at the floor yelling, hinting at their mutual frustration. My shirt saw a noticeable sweat like it had just been taken out of the washer.

I took this stop and and exited the train. I walked in the direction of the stairs that led towards the openness of the subway, my hands clenched together and I shivered in rage from previous experiences. But before I could proceed any further, I noticed I had left my primary purse on the train. It probably had been retrieved without a sign of the person returning it. My fractured composure couldn’t sustain anymore anger so when it disintegrated, I often found relief in destroying inanimate objects until their forms look hideous from the impact. I brisk-walked to a nearby pillar and kicked it. Sweat could have filled a tall empty cup at this point.

“What are you doing?” said the homeless man who had occupied an area within my vicinity.

My lit eyes turned to him, an innocent-looking man, whom I met at an inopportune time. He’d definitely been through a series of unfortunate events; anyone with a sound mind could assess his circumstances by looking at the cardboard and a few newspapers he called home. I walked towards him with an obscured intent. When I stood close to him, he was lying on the floor, face pointed upwards to gaze at me. I had an unyielding advantage of height which made him appear like a dog asking for mercy or food. It was soon made clear to the homeless man that I was coming here with a malicious mindset.

I started kicking him in the gut because the impact could create more significant damage to the chest, heart and lungs. Plus, it felt sturdier; when it broke I could sense the deterioration in the bones or the organs. The man had remained lying on the floor, covering himself with his arms, and screaming at the top of his lungs to express his yielding to my attack. The sweat hadn’t ceased for one second, the uncalled for assault had left this already unkempt man rolling in blood discharged from his mouth. Up until he no longer was in motion, I stopped, my eyes turned blue again, body replete with newfound tranquility, and sweaty back welcomed in breezes.

The episode had come to a halt but it was the first time she imposed the unprecedented anger upon a human being. I came out of the dark and rejoiced in the sunset as I exited the subway. Things had really gone out of control.