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Working in the city, you get pretty used to the daily crush of people all desperate to get to where-ever they’re going. At first I hated it, then after a while you kind of become numb as soon as you set foot into the packed streets or stand in a crammed train compartment.
That’s exactly how I’d come to spend each train journey to and from work, and this particular evening was no exception. I had worked a little later to try and avoid the rush hour, but as ever my plan had failed and I ended up squeezed onto the train, feebly gripping the handle with the very tips of my fingers in an attempt not to fall over.
I had just shut myself off to the sights and sounds (and smells) and was lost in my own thoughts. I was being pressed further by someone behind me, and managed to step to give a little more space. The person pressed again, and once more I managed to gain some room. When the person pressed against me for the third time, along with a certain part of his anatomy (hence me realizing this person was indeed a He), I not only realized that it was no accident, but realized I had no more space to escape into.
I froze shock still, and could sense everything and everyone in the train. Could everybody else tell what was happening? Could anyone else see? Was it actually happening or was I mistaken? He started moving his body against mine.
And I decided. It was happening. So what did I do?
I closed my eyes and bared it. I closed my eyes and wished the train would hurry up to its next stop. I wished something, anything, would happen that would stop it all. But most of all, I wished I was brave enough to do something myself to make it stop. To break his nose, or punch him, or scream, or…anything.
The time it took to travel that short distance to the next stop seemed like an eternity. Ice ages came and went, civilizations rose and nations fell, and all through this I could feel his breath on my neck.
The automatic doors to the carriage had never opened to slowly, and I fell out of the carriage as soon as I could escape. I stumbled to the side and leaned against the wall, refusing to look back into the carriage just in case he was watching – I did not want to know his face. I caught my breath and grit my teeth, trying to bring myself back to normal.
Half an hour and a cup of the station cafes weak coffee, I felt more sturdy on my feet. I stood myself up straight, adjusted the bag on my shoulder, and stepped back onto the platform to continue my journey home.
4 trains later, I was finally brave enough to step on board one.
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