The Platform

He stood on the platform with a certain type of confidence; one that tried to overcompensate for the insecurities which were etched deep into the lines of his face. Trying to keep composure as every worry for the next three weeks rushed through his brain. He had no choice in the matter; the dorms were closed for the break, and the flight was already paid for. Last minute scenarios of how he could avoid the inevitable flashed behind his eyelids with every blink, each one being more outrageously unlikely than the previous. Maybe the train to the airport would derail; preferably before he stepped on to it... Or maybe if he was on it, the death of a train crash would be more bearable than dealing with the dysfunction and everything that would come up during the time with his family.

The next train will arrive in two minutes.

Please stand behind the yellow line.

He looked down at his feet. His right foot was right on the line. It was this moment that he realized just how close to the edge of the platform he actually was. The idea of being that close scared him, but then thinking to himself, he reasoned that it was no less scary than the scenarios he had just been imagining. He stared at the thick yellow line that bordered the edge of the platform. There was nothing on his mind; no thought, no words, nothing. Just the image of the lines he was staring at. It wasn’t until the front of the train had rushed past him that he realized he had zoned out. Looking up, he watched as the train slowed, and eventually stopped. The doors opened, directly in front of him. He stood still for a second as people poured into the train car around him. Finally, he stepped onto the train, finding a seat to himself. He stared out the window.