Station 429

the night of colleen

the night of colleen

__________________________________________________________________________

I was rather surprised to see Colleen walking into the station a few nights after Foster had left. She was alone, as to be expected, and I couldn't think of a reason as to why she would come around. No one was due to be back for at least another week.

She climbed down the rock pile, at which she had become a pro at by now, and headed towards the train. She held in one hand the picture of the couple, and in the other a pieces of lined notebook paper, folded along two creases.

When she got inside, she found the broken overhead compartment and opened it. Taking one last glance at the pair, she placed the pictureback inside. Then, she moved to stand in the middle of the circle of chairs. She took a deep breath, then let it out, her shoulders sagging almost to a slouch. But she kept her head held high—something she was always good at doing.

She stood there thinking about how she had come to this place for a moment, took in the familiar sounds of the wind whistling through the tunnel and blowing through the fallen leaves, the single light source given off by the lone street lamp outside, the darkness that settled all around the train if you didn't have a flashlight on.

There was no one more surprised than her that she had become so attached to this place, not to mention the people in it. She never thought she'd stay as long as she did, either, but she just couldn't keep herself away after the first few nights. She thought she was a goner, and maybe she was for a while, but the station had brought her back, just like it was supposed to.

Colleen turned on her heel towards the door, cutting her visitshort. She stopped in the door way, unfolded her note, and taped it to the frame. She slid her hand down the other side of the frame and looked back briefly "Don't worry," she whispered, "I'll come back." I couldn't have been happier to hear those words.

Her note read:

Dear Station 429,

Hi. I'm Colleen Brigs, nineteen years old, and my best friends committed suicide. That's all I'm going to say about me, though. I know that these letters are supposed to be about my story, but I've said it around here so much that you're probably tired of hearing it by now. Instead, I'd like to talk about my new story.

You see, I was broken when I first came here. I was so broken that my legs didn't work right. One day, they just took off walking from my apartment building and brought me to this abandoned train station. Although, maybe they weren't broken but rather knew what I needed. I don't know, and probably never will.

Anyway, yes, I was broken. And everyone here was broken, too. That was the most beautiful part of this place, really; the fact that we could all be wholesomely broken was something I couldn't even fathom before I came here. It was a fantasy, a place nonexistent, yet you made it real. Thank you.

There has been talk about magic here—the magic of the station, as they say—and there is no other explanation for the unmistakable pull I had that told me to come back. And I'm so glad you used it on me, because otherwise, I wouldn't be here writing this letter.

You and the others—Foster, Misty, Owen, Kendall, Dustin, and Nathan(the originals, I like to call them)—helped me. You all helped me see who I am and work through my brokenness so that I could start my new picture. I hope I was able to return the favor. (Foster assures me that I have, but I feel like I'll never be done trying to repay you.)

My new story, or picture as Foster now likes to say, started with you. Where it ends, though, I don't know. There are so many places I could end up. I could end up going home, I could end up staying in New York, or I could end up in California, but I don't know. These stories are our lives, so we don't know where we'll end up until we get to the end, which is quite okay with me.

AllI know right now is that I'm here. I'm here for you and I'm here for anyone else who wanders in through the giant hole in the wall, just like I did. You are a home to broken souls, and I'd love nothing more than to be the hostess.

Love always,

Colleen.

What she didn't know, though, is that I had a bigger picture in store for her than she ever could have imagined. And she was going to love it.

__________________________________________________________________________

song is kids by saints of valory. (please listen to the audio because the song basically sums up this story perfectly it makes me cry tears of joy.)

you guys. it's done. what is life right now.

i won't ramble on because i'm going to post an author's note after this, but i want to thank you right now for seeing this story through to its end. i can't tell you how much that means to me. thank you for taking this journey with me.

i love you all so much.

-abby xx