train stations

xix.

They got off the train together. She had been hesitant about it, but Melanie insisted that seeing her grandmother wasn't as urgent as it seemed.

They walked from the train station to the bridge and stood, gazing down at the black river below.

"This is where?" Melanie's voice seemed so far away.

"Yeah," she whispered.

Melanie took her hand, as if to bind her to reality, to living. "Why do you feel like you have to do this?"

"I deserve it," her voice cracked, tears dripping off her nose. "I'm broken, and the universe is punishing me for it."

"The universe is not punishing you. You are punishing yourself."

She tore her eyes from the river and looked at Melanie. "I have to do this."

"You don't," she whispered, taking her other hand and turning her away from the edge. "You deserve to live. There's nothing wrong with you, and you are not broken. You are a whole person. Being yourself is not a crime. Taking steps to be yourself is a good thing. The universe didn't make you this way as a punishment. The universe made you this way because it makes you beautiful."

"I just can't do this," she let herself sob as the wind tossed her hair around.

Melanie hugged her. She smelled sweet, like summer. "You can."

She cried into her shoulder. "I don't know—I don't know anything."

"Come with me? To see my grandmother? We can stay there for a while, and I'll help you figure everything out. We'll let your husband know you're safe, and you'll be okay."

She sniffed. "I don't want to run anymore. This is what the universe wants for me."

"I don't think it is," Melanie said.

"I already started—I left everything. I can't turn back. All my letters—You know what I wrote."

"So, then, rewrite it."