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The train station was swarming with people. Passengers, close friends and family not prepared to say goodbye, and workers. The group of six could not take a stride forth without bumping into somebody, or stepping on their feet. It had begun to become overwhelming. A simple task turned unthinkable. They just needed to get to the train, sit down and unwind. Sleep until their stop. No more curses or elbows to their ribs.
Artemisia Robin wanted nothing more than peace. She had grown tired of muttering apologies each second, even when most of them were not her fault. But a discussion with some stranger was not something anyone on the platform lacked.
A firm hand in her back jabbed her forward. She rasped at Zach's actions, planting her feet on the floor to prevent head-butting into Garfield's green crown of hairs. That pause gave her an opening to jump on her tiptoes and catch a glimpse of what waited ahead. The doors were not far. A few more steps ( perhaps a minute ) and they would be in.
Her hand hugged a ticket, being cautious not to bend or sweat in it. A few more paces. Zachary's hand urged her ahead one more time. He was her guide, being taller and seeing easily how far they were, and when the crowd moved.
Another push, two steps forward. Gar peered over his shoulder and smiled at the pair. Artemisia grinned back.
It had been a few blinks and taps on her shoulder, yet it seemed to have lasted two centuries. Her mind was swirling around the past, and what the future could be. Time went slow in her brain, but it transpired triple the velocity outside.
Soon, holding her back from plunging into an abyss of remorse, her boot slid slightly on the new ground. It was no longer solid cement. She stood over metal, a minor crevice parting in the middle for the door to slide through. One more step and she'd enter the train. Gain her peace. Sit down and relax. She craved it so badly.
But if she yearned for it, why did her feet freeze?
She expected to take the next step. Yet her body did not respond. Another command spoke stricter as she grew anxious. A softer, remote voice. A reminder that she was not alone. Had not been for years. A warning for her life from someone who needed her. Whispers in her ears saying: trains are not safe. Stay out from them.
People protested around her, nudging the troubled woman out of the way, struggling to get inside. Four sets of friendly eyes glanced at her with concern. A hand cupped her arm. The warm contact twirling her into reality.
Her feet recoiled from the wagon. Back sloping on Zach's strong chest. They fretted at her actions. For someone who did not have a second voice in their head, it was tough to understand the change of heart. She elected to heed that plead.
"I can't get in," she whimpered, pushing further into his chest. He walked with her, providing her space to continue falling back. "I can't― she can't. It's too soon."
