Limbo

And she walked, following the pitter-patter of the rain.

Out of the shining sun and out of the warmth. Things that needed to be left behind in a

safe-kept jar.

She instead came with nothing but the clothes she wears to sleep and a ticket she found.

No! I urged. But my voice went unheard as she strolled.

Turn back, I tried again over the deafening rumble of the stone floor. Followed by the

loud chug of rolling wheels and the calls of a whistle. In the distance was an old train, one that

had been coming to this station for a long time without anyone knowing. As often as movement

would allow it, it stopped per routine. And whenever it did, it always left with no one to get on.

However, this time, it was approaching to pick up a passenger of one. Someone who only

came here through the talk of whispers.

The train stopped with an abrupt screech. Then came the quiet that overshadowed the rain

and the out of breath pant. The wooden sides were suddenly empty and eerily. Its only hint of

solace was the orange tinge inside the cart. Candles that are melting away wax, like melting

away feelings. But even then, it felt alone.

By the exhale of the door, came out the conductor who reached out a hand.

She knew what he wanted. The one-way ticket. Hesitantly, she gave him the damp ticket

protected by her palms. The conductor took one look before punching a small hole into it.

Once the conductor handed back the ticket, it burned to heavy ashes, reminding her that

there was no way back once the path was carved into her skin.

The conductor disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving her to enter the doors

unattended for.

The first step on the train felt heavy, like the air around was shifted to put pressure on a

wound she didn’t know she had. Yet, she climbed up and watched as what little relief she had

completely vanished. It was quiet, too quiet.

She went to take a seat and then finally did the train take off somewhere she didn't know.

She only had to focus on the force on her back, pushing her forward and beckoning her that she

was alive, and not dead. Though there seemed to be a void ahead.

Except it wasn't dying. Not really. She still felt things. Just grieving what she had to leave

behind—the things that were meant to be forever.

A sharp pain pounded her awake. It wrapped around her neck and squeezed the oxygen

out of her lungs. In a desperate panic, she clawed for a way out. She wanted to breathe, needed to

breathe. I told you but you didn’t listen, I hissed out. But she was still ignorant of my words,

clinging onto a thread that led ahead instead.

She couldn’t let go.

Maybe she needed to hold on because that was the only thing she knew how to do. And

she needed to adapt. Change. Be a better version.

The pain that was her heartstrings grew suffocating. They were slowly twisting into her

chest. It choked her insides out in a burn that felt inextinguishable. Invisible as it was, it existed.

And it was moving, like poison aimed to kill.

Every thought seemed to be a whirlpool of scribbles, eating everything up and wanting

more. Consuming everything until it reached her bones, leaving a hollow version of itself.

Empty. Tired.

In the depths of despair, an ache made the tears come in raspy sobs that flowed endlessly.

But at least, it hurt less.

And she began moving, following the anticipation of the wheels.

She crawled to ask the conductor to stop the train. Please, stop.

When the door was pushed open, everything must’ve melted in the background of

monochrome colors. The conductor was not there. Nobody was driving the train.

Only a lone chair remained. It was then that I knew that it wasn’t stopping any time soon.

There wasn’t anything she could do as she slowly approached the chair and sat down.

She brushed her hands along the steering wheel.

In the distance, a quiet flower blooms outside a window. A light seeping through the

clouds, somewhere I hadn’t noticed was there. It wasn’t supposed to be anyone else’s place.

Painful, yes. But it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.