Memphis Wills wants out of Whitehaven, the tiny village she's lived in her whole life. So aged sixteen she leaves for college in the city and never looks back.
Until five years later when she finally wises up and leaves her dirt bag boyfriend. Fee...
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Breathe.
Your life is not over.
There's just a massive fucking detour you did not see coming.
The cubicle to my left opens, startling me a little, and out strides a lady, her heels clip-clopping around the tiny echoey room. She stops beside me to use the sink and I can't pretend that she's not giving me the once over. My heart sinks a little when I catch her screwing up her nose. I mean, I don't blame her. I've been standing here for the last ten minutes and I've come to the same conclusion over and over again; I am a hot mess. Red, snotty nose all swollen and leaking. Puffy eyes and damp cheeks. This isn't what I had planned for today, that's for sure.
I catch her eye again just as she moves to the hand-dryer and this time she seems to be less judging; her filled in eyebrows less frowny and her dark eyes wider. For the tiniest of seconds, I think she's talking to me, but her cherry red lips aren't moving, and her voice would only be carried away from me by the rumble of the dryer.
I wait until she's gone before I decide to get my act together. I grab a tissue from the stack by the sink; it's already slightly damp but I dab at my eyes anyway before moving to tackle the rest of my snotty, tear stained face. It smells like cheap soap in here and the barred fluorescent lights are really doing me no favours. I know my brown eyes are tinged red but here I look like I've not slept for days. In reality I've only been feeling this shit for less than twenty-four hours. My nose stings with an influx of tears but I blink them away.
There's only so much damage control a wet tissue can do so when I'm sure I'm as presentable as possible, which is not at all, I force myself to leave with a sigh.
Intent on hiding my face in the collar of my jacket as a group of teenage girls pass me, I don't hear the voice at first.
"Excuse me, Honey?"
The early afternoon air stings my face as I look up to see the lady in heels. She's standing just outside the entrance to the toilets, a small suitcase to the side of her. I can feel myself blushing, adding more redness to the already blotchy skin that crying has induced, and I grip the straps of my backpack with white knuckles.
I make myself meet her gaze, all of the embarrassment in the world throwing itself at me when I see the pity in her eyes.
It's a long moment before she speaks, punctuated only by an announcement going off through the speakers above.
"I just want to say, whoever they are, they aren't worth it." Her voice is lilted with an accent and kind. She nods to herself, like she's satisfied that she's spoken, before she heads in the direction of the stairs leading to the opposite platform.
I stand there blinking until the sound of the teenagers reappearing wakes me up. I shuffle out of the way, slumping back against a wall. I squint up at the information board, searching for the one pm train to Whitehaven. The thought of boarding it makes me feel sick but staying isn't an appealing option either.
