The Middle of Nowhere

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A/N - This is a free-verse style (super short) story I've been working on.

I pull my suitcase
behind me,
echoing,
at is clatters
onto the concrete;
'tatatatatatatatat',
as the train
pulls away
from the station.
Fleeing.
Fleeing,
as I should.
As I wish I could.
Fleeing,
from this desolate town
no-one knows about,
in the middle
of nowhere.
Fleeing,
because no-one,
no-thing,
wants
to be here.
Least of all
me.

For a moment,
just one
I contemplate
turning around
and never
never
coming back.
For a moment,
I wish.
I wish things
were different.
Better
But,
they aren't.
And in this desolate town
no-one knows about
in the middle
of nowhere
is where I must be.
Where I am.
Where I wish I wasn't.
Where everyone wishes they weren't.
And yet,
this
is where I find myself
for the first time
in a decade.
Besides,
the train is already
long gone.

So instead of fleeing,
instead of turning around
and leaving
I walk,suitcase in hand.
My body and my mind
screaming
in protest.
Telling me to turn back,
to flee,
to never come back.
But I don't listen.
I continue walking,
into this desolate town.

Shadows, cast from the moon,
litter my path.
The brick wall,
crumbling.
And a rat, scurrying
fleeing,
from me.
And this time,
rather than taking a moment
a moment
to wish
to hope
to flee,
I ignore the rat, and walk.
But I can't help but feel
as though the rat, scurrying,
fleeing,
is a warning.
Telling me
what I already know.
Telling me
to flee.

I don't.

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