He took a deep breath, feeling the air slowly enter his lungs and circulate throughout his body. In and out, in and out, the breaths continued, supplying his body with the required oxygen that he so desperately required.
Corey sat hunched over the bench, his head pounding and his mind foggy and confused. It was all blurry. Everything. They walked around him. Back and forth, back and forth. He saw them all but knew none of them. They were like ghosts. There but not there. Like figures of his imagination.
Finally as the dizziness began to fade, his mind returned to a normal state, his vision slowly returning like a camera lens adjusting its focus.
Corey scanned his surroundings, finally seeing it all. It was as if he had wakened for the first time and was now seeing everything anew. He let his mind take it all in, all the images, sounds, feelings. He was finally able to comprehend where he was, his mind clear again.
He was in a Metro station, seated on a bench across from the train tracks, the graffiti on the wall barely visible. People stood scattered around him, headphones in their ears, looking down at their phones as they waited by the tracks for the next Metro.
Corey heard the loud rumbling sounds of a metro train as it approached, the sounds getting louder and louder as it neared. He watched as a train entered the station hissing loudly and halted to a stop in front of him.
The train emptied and new passengers entered immediately after, filling up the train claustrophobically, leaving no space inside to move.
Corey watched as the train accelerated away, zooming by like a blur, as if it had never been there at all.
Corey again felt the nausea grip him, holding onto him tightly and not letting go; ceding briefly and re-appearing with a vengeance. He looked down at the ground, simultaneously covering his face with his hands, trying to rid himself of his demons.
“Are you alright?”
Corey felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, noticing a young woman standing above him. She had short, blond hair, sharp blue eyes and freckles that spotted her face asymmetrically.
Corey examined her in more detail. She wasn’t the type of woman who would throw you off your feet with her beauty, but rather one that would take you away with charm and kindness, one that would make you fall in love with her on such a deeper level.
She was the type of woman whom you would obsess over: her personality, her movements, her interactions. It was the little things that made you fall in love, not beauty. Just like Caroline. Just like Caroline.
Caroline. The love of his life. Three years they had lived together, spoken together, breathed together. They were always in sync with each other, understanding each other’s movements, each other’s intentions. They were together. They were one.
Until she had left him. She told him there was someone else, that she was no longer happy. She wanted more than he could give him. She said he hoped he could understand.
But he couldn’t. He could never understand. What was there to understand? They were so perfect together. They were one.
Now Corey had nothing left. He couldn’t even remember how he had ended up here. He looked up, suddenly remembering the young woman. She looked at him sympathetically, as if to say she could understand. But she couldn’t understand.
“Yes I’m fine”, he managed to say. His lips felt glued together, as if he had just woke up. His voice sounded croaky and rough.
The woman watched him a moment longer, before turning around and hurrying up the concrete steps to the streets above.
Corey watched her leave, her scarf curled around her neck, her jacket wrung tightly around her body. He couldn’t help but look at her backside as she strode away convincingly, her heels clicking against the ground.
For a moment the nausea was gone, the thoughts eliminated from his mind.
Then it reappeared. Caroline. He couldn’t stop thinking about Caroline.
He covered his hands over his face, feeling the wrinkles and edges along his face which were not there before.
Corey heard the sounds of the next train appearing, the sounds intensifying by the second, the shriek of the train as it began braking.
He heard the chatter of people among him, busy people, going home to their husbands, their wives, their children. Oh how he longed for what they had, their simple but elegant lives.
Corey rose up off the bench, feeling the draft of the approaching train. He could see it now, its lights illuminating the tunnel. He walked forward, passing the others around him who were so selfishly focused on themselves, their eyes glued down to their phones.
Corey sighed as he approached the edge of the station. He looked down at the tracks, and then back at the approaching train.
He took a deep breath. As he exhaled the thought appeared once again. Caroline. She entered his mind one last time.
Then he walked down. And waited.
