Alternate (Phan)

1*Train Wreck

Dan

I held my breath as I stood on the edge. I lost all hope, everything was wrong. I hoped that a version of me was happy in an alternate universe, but this version of me wasn't. This version of me didn't have a family. This version of me had caused so much suffering to other families. This version of me had made some stupid decisions.

Maybe it was down to circumstances and if there wasn't an ongoing war for the last fifteen years, I wouldn't be in this position. I would have been raised happily by my family. I wouldn't have turned the gun on them and left by age thirteen.

I could have had a girlfriend, not a family yet since I'm only eighteen. But something. Something in this mess of a world.

I never bothered to learn how this war started, it doesn't matter because if you're alive right now, that's your only aim: to stay alive. Why? Nobody knows. I don't see the point.

That's why I'm here.

I'm at Manchester train station sitting on the edge of the tracks. I'd liked to have hoped that in an alternate universe, this would have been used by hundreds of people a day. But, instead, there's a desolate depressed teenager who's sitting on the platform. This one's still in use. I don't know if it's for transporting weapons or drugs. Either way, I don't care.

I heard the tracks rumble.

Not long now, Dan.

When I left when I was thirteen, I took a job in the sub military. The military is the one that's actually fighting and keeping order across the world. The sub military, aka submil, is the one that 'keeps order' within the country for its citizens.

That's what they taught me, that's what I believed.

I soon came to realise that it was just a service controlled by a rich bastard who was psychopathic and wanted any control he could get.

It was a hard leave, but I made it out. Mainly because I pulled a stunt of fake hanging myself to get out.

I was out by age seventeen, just over a year ago. Since then, I've been working with technology and social outerweb. Technology has improved massively because of the war, we have technology we wouldn't have even dreamt about twenty years ago.

I bet there's a universe out there where I'm a farmer. Poor universe. Although, I'd still switch.

You don't have jobs here. You survive on what you can find and/or harvest yourself. If you work in a service like the military or submil, they have their own management and farming solutions, so you basically survive for your service.

To keep myself busy, I started broadcasting myself on WeTube.

There are different people on it, from survivalists sharing their skills, to extremists who try and take as many risks as possible before dying, to activists, which explains itself, to what I do, comedy.

Okay, it sounds crappy! I get that, but I kind of hoped that by posting completely off-topic videos to what the current world's situation was, I'd help distract people. I just wanted people to keep going, find some sort of happiness of love, etc.

A lot of people deserve it, but not me.

That's why I'm here.

That's the train. That's my suicide approaching.

I smiled.

Ten.

I drummed my fingers against the concrete platform.

What is the point in this world? Why would I be existing just to survive? Surely fate would have kicked in by now? My mum always told me to live for love, that's how she survived. But I've found nobody, and myself isn't enough.

Nine.

I just wished I learnt what went wrong with the world, I should've learnt when I wasn't facing my own death. It was something to do with politics.

Eight.

Fucking hell, this is taking forever. I started to shake my feet to get myself hyped.

Seven.

My followers on WeTube wouldn't even know what happened to me. I wouldn't be the first to mysteriously disappear. People assume you were shot or something.

Six.

I've watched other Tubers just vanish. I can't say any of them affected me that much, so why would mine affect anyone else?

Five.

Actually, there was one disappearance that affected me. But he's been gone for months now.

Four.

I should've hit 50k followers this month. Well, fuck that.

Three.

I wonder if that other Tuber is dead? Is he alive and hiding?

Two.

I guess he taught me the point in life, but with him gone, I've just forgotten.

One.

Goodbye.

That's when I jumped, the train a meter away from me. That was it. That was my suicide.

But I never fell, an arm grabbed onto me and threw me back round onto the platform just as the train went by.

Someone was grabbing me by my shoulders, I drummed their chest with my fists to let them release me.

'You fucking idiot! I hate you! LET ME GO! What is my life worth to you?! It's worth nothing to me!'

Tears started pouring down my face in desperation, pain and anger. I was so close. The next train was tomorrow.

The figure just kept me shaking in their arms, holding onto me tight. I gave up, my breathing steadying in their arms. Tears burnt my cheeks.

'I fucking hate you.' I looked up.

I recognised the face. The sharp jaw, the turned nose, the pale skin, the small pink lips, the hair...fucking hell the hair.

'Well, shit me.'