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This train terminates at Stanmore
It’s ninefourtythree and he’s at the tube.
Tommy chuckled, knowing he would never reach the end. This was it. He’d decided to do it a while ago, and every passing minute, the urge to just commit became just that bit more enticing. He looked down at the rails and imagine what it would feel like to hit the ground. It would hurt a little, he’s pretty sure, but as the train came it would be over.
He imagined how annoyed all the people waiting for their train would be, that’s what always happened. Nobody cared what blocked the train, they just cared that they would be late. He would show up in a statistic somewhere, just one of many the city had claimed.
God, how he wished for it to be over already. But it wasn’t, because he was a pussy. He told himself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, that people did it everyday, yet, he felt like for him it would be different. Maybe people would mourn, maybe people would realize what they’d done, finally come to their senses.
Yeah right, fat chance. Tommy was the biggest man and as such, he was well aware that nobody would give a fuck.
This was becoming embarrassing, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t commit, yet he so desperately wanted to.
He watched the people rush past, catching train after train, leaving and returning, nobody was even noticing his existence.
Well, they’ll have to acknowledge him, when he blocks the train. When, not if, because Tommy is a big man and not a pussy.
He chuckles, at least then, someone will pay him attention. God, he was pathetic.
Then, without his control, he stood up from his bench, where he’d been sitting for the last hour and a half, just staring.
It’s ninefiftyfive
He entered the train as one of many. It was sticky and full and he hated every second, and yet he did not exit, he just stood there in a flood of people, who didn’t care, caring too much.
The train began moving, and so did the people. Mothers with crying children, moody teens and tired businessmen with phones to their ears.
The train stopped, people left and more entered.
The train starts moving and Tommy nearly falls.
The train stops and people leave, less enter.
The train stops and people leave, nobody enters.
The train stops- the train stops- the train stops
Someone enters
It’s tenthirtysix
Tommy looks up to the now nearly empty cart, he hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten, that everyone had left. First the mothers, then the men and finally the teens, with too big headphones and too loud music.
Tommy sat down on a seat to his left. The stranger sat close to him. Weird. Tommy hoped that he wasn’t trying to start anything he was currently lacking the energy.
The stranger looked just as tired as he did, with long sleeves, a beanie and bags as dark as his own under his eyes. He was wearing a sweater, a muted yellow in color.
He looked kinda dorky, like a hipster, if it hadn’t been for the look in his eyes, maybe Tommy would have made fun of him. But, he recognized that look from the mirror and he didn’t,
It was weird almost, the stranger and him hadn’t exchanged a single word, and yet Tommy felt like he’d known him forever.
The train stopped, they both sat and nobody entered. Tommy exhaled a breath he hadn’t noticed he held. It felt weird to think that this silence could be broken at any moment, he didn’t want it to end.
Or maybe he did, just because he wanted to end it all.
“Hey”, the stranger said, silently, nearly whispering, after they’d been sat in silent for a good twenty minutes. Tommy looked up, and locked eyes with the brunette. “Hey”, he answered, not mustering up enough energy to smile.
That was ok though, since the other didn’t seem in the mood to smile either.
The silence continued, only broken by the occasional information coming from the speakers. It was late and dark out. Curiously, Tommy didn’t feel tired. He hadn’t in a while. Maybe that was because he’d decided to go to sleep forever in a while. Only, he had started to regret the decision just a little, maybe today wasn’t a good day to vanish. Maybe he should wait until next week. Or maybe that was just the pussy in him talking, the coward who was afraid of finally accomplishing his end goal.
The stranger was looking at him and Tommy looked back. “What are you doing up so late?” The stranger asked, tentatively. His voice was kinda rough, a little dark, as if it hadn’t been used in a while.
Tommy stopped and didn’t answer, at least for a while.
Finally, “I could ask you the same”. Tommy wasn’t ready to admit his own weakness.
“I think you know why I’m here and I think you are here for just the same.”
Tommy nodded, the other understood. Quietly, so untypical for himself, he asks “Why?”.
It’s stupid, because he knows why, everyone knows why, yet he asks, curiously.
It’s tenfourtyseven
“I’m tired, I’m sick of the city smock and the people and I truly don’t think I can continue.”
Tommy nodded, he understood and he agreed, yet, he struggled when the stranger asked in return. “Why?“
Tommy shrugs and tries to find the right words to express this feeling of total helplessness, desperation and depression. “I hate it. I hate everything and everyone and I especially hate this city.”
The stranger nods, he hadn’t asked for a name, maybe he should.
“Are you?” He didn’t finish, and he didn’t have to. “The stranger shook his head, “I might, I’ve sat here for a while now, I’m not sure if todays the day.”
Tommy got that sentiment, he wasn’t sure either.
The silence returned.
The train stops, the doors open, nobody enters.
He watches the barriers come and go and nearly scoffs at the irony. The half assed attempts of the city to stop people was truly one of the funniest things he’d seen all day. The barriers failed and everybody knew why.
The stranger follows his gaze and chuckles too, “You know the city of London didn’t put the barriers up to stop us, they out them up to stop the trains from being late”
Tommy nods, everyone knows. The city doesn’t care, and neither do it’s people. He wonders if anyone is searching for him, if anyone has even noticed that he’s gone. Tubbo might notice tomorrow, when he didn’t return any of the texts, but other than that, it was unlikely to be noticed for at least a few days.
God that was depressing. Nobody cared.
The stranger haa a weird look in his eyes, almost like pity, but that was ridiculous, why would the other pity him.
“I’m Wilbur” the stranger said, breaking his silence once more. Tommy raised an eyebrow, “Tommy”.
They stay there, silent,y staring at the bright lights glimmering above.
It’s eleventwelve
“So what do you do, Tommy?”
The question startled him, he hadn’t expected more talk. What did he do? “I film and play video games, Minecraft mostly.”
He expected to be laughed at, most people did whenever he mentioned his passions. But Wilbur surprises him, as his eyes light up with recognition and he begins to smile, “I know that game! It’s so calming, I play it a lot!”
His excitement is contagious and soon Tommy is talking a mile a minute with a random stranger on a train about his very favorite game.
The dark thoughts that had been pushing down on him all day, slowly disappeared, almost like a bad taste in his mouth. He began to laugh, his situation was absurd. Two suicidal strangers meet on a Train-
Tommy doesn’t know how the joke would end, what the punchline would be, but he’s sure it would make a great one.
His random laughter inspires Wilbur to do the same, and as they sit there, laughing in an empty cart, the worries fly away and he feels like he’s met his match. He feels like they are brothers and when he tells Wilbur the other threatens to cry.
They exchange numbers, it’s elevenfiftyfive and the ride is coming to a close. Neither of them want to move, and break whatever it is that’s holding them together but alas, the world keeps turning, time doesn’t stop, and finally the train reaches Stanmore. They sit, waiting, for whatever happens when a train stops for the night.
Eventually, they have to get up though, the guards come along, checking the train for any people who might have fallen asleep. They haven’t, fallen asleep, that is, but they do have to leave eventually.
The doors open, the train stops and two people leave. They stand there, in the final train station, and wait, Tommy’s not sure for what, but they are at Stanmore and it’s oneeleven as the lights flicker above.
Tommy doesn’t wanna leave the stranger on the train, he doesn’t wanna return, unsuccessful in his only goal, he is a failure, a pussy and a coward, and yet he want to continue talking with Wilbur.
The other clearly shares the same notion as he holds on for just as long. Tommy can’t remember the last actual hug he’s received, and slowly hope builds in his stomach, hot like it might burn him and yet cold and hard, just like a knife ready to gut him at any given time as soon as he starts to trust.
Tommy realizes how much he’s missed that feeling, how much he’s lacking, and suddenly he starts missing Tubbo. He hadn’t seen the other in forever, and maybe he’s just lonely, maybe he doesn’t want to die. As soon as the thought came, it vanished, he wasn’t lonely, he wanted to be alone, and he didn’t want to annoy anyone ever again.
But, as he stands there at onetwentythree, close to a man he hadn’t known that morning, he makes a pack with himself. Everyday he chats with Wilbur is one day longer to live, to conquer, and that’s what he tells Wilbur too. Sure it might put too much trust in somebody else, but hey, at least he’s not actually dead yet.
Wilbur seems slightly startled, but agrees, tells him that it’ll be the same for him. They make the pact, they shake hands, and as they finally move apart, each in direction of home, Tommy’s heart aches for the first time, not with desperation but with a need to talk to his new best friend.
He starts texting him at onethirtyseven and doesn’t stop til school starts at eightofour the next morning.
Wilbur goes along, continues to joke, and finally, finally, Tommy starts to think that some stuff might be alright again.
He texts Tubbo, who doesn’t have to worry because Tommy couldn’t answer, and nobody notices his change. But Tommy notices and that’s enough.
When Wilbur’s song comes out, Tommy sings it on repeat and he understands why it’s written, possibly better than anyone else.
Tommy doesn’t go down to the tube anymore, except when he meets up with Wilbur who’s moved to Brighton. Tommy’s jealous, but then again, it’s one more year till he moves as well.
It’s ninefourtythree and he’s at the tube