The Empty Station. As the darkness of night approached, I… | by Nikyy | Sep, 2025
As the darkness of night approached, I had just come home from work, and it felt incredibly tiring to have to repeat the same routine every day. At 8 p.m., I entered the station where I usually waited for the train home. I stepped inside and walked down a fairly wide corridor with a high ceiling. The walls were decorated with old Soviet-era paintings still hanging there. I could also hear the intermittent sound of singing that usually played from 8 p.m. onwards. After arriving at the platform, I looked around and there was no one there, but to me, that was normal. Although it might seem scary to a normal person, I clearly remember the first time I arrived here, feeling scared and anxious, afraid something might happen. But now I’m no longer afraid, and I’ve accepted and strengthened myself. I remember my mother often telling me that I have to get used to places I don’t like. I think what she said to me was true: we will eventually move from a familiar place to a foreign one, and no matter what, we have to get used to it. Then I sat in the waiting chair and took a deep breath. I pondered, and suddenly I felt sad. I suddenly imagined what it would be like if I were the only one living in this world, or how everything I’d been through and experienced was just a play, like in the movie “The Trump Show.” Suddenly, my vision blurred, and I cried. I was scared. I missed my mother and her voice. Now, my mother is gone, and I am left alone in this world, forced to live daily with fear and anxiety. Even the happiness and pleasant memories of my mother appear only momentarily, as if I had only been by her side for a short time. I can’t hold back my tears, and I cry, my cries echoing in the empty platform, accompanied by the dim, flickering lights. Oh God, how sad I am. Why is this all happening to me? When I was at my mother’s funeral, I cried and prayed innocently that my mother would come back to life and be by my side. I miss my mother’s slightly salty cooking, I miss her nagging, I miss her voice when she told me stories. I am lost in my grief, and everything seems gloomy. No one comes to me, no one wants to talk to me. Even when people stare at me, I am scared. Now there is no place to take shelter or to confide. Then suddenly the sound of a train slowly appeared.
It was the familiar sound of a train that was usually late, and I was so annoyed I couldn’t be any more annoyed.
Not long after, the train arrived, and I wiped away my tears. When the train stopped in front of me, the driver immediately apologized to me, and I didn’t think much of it.
I got on the train and left the platform.
That’s the life we live.
Everything comes and goes at the same time, and rest assured, everything will come back at the same time, when you and I greet each other and exchange stories.
I hope you’re doing well there.
