Death Formula | KTH ✓

3. And When He Comes

The weather had gone terrifying. The sky was as grey as a coal miners' handkerchief tucked securely on their waistband and so low that the world felt tiny and close. The air was thick, wafting with the lovely smell of the coming storm. The wind unforgivingly rushed by, slapping my warm cheeks with its cold current as it dishevelled my once tidy hair.

Before I had sprinted a few yards down the lane, each drop of rain splattered down mercilessly, dampening my garment. The rain danced like watery sprites in the puddles after they had formed. Lightning flashed on a distant mound, like a serpent of brilliant light dispatched to bite the ground. The sky trembled with the sound of thunder, but I remained motionless beneath it, despite my brain's parallelism with the weather and discrepancy with my own frozen body on the train tracks.

Turbulent and strong, the only word that whirled in my head for the past two hours was: death.

Unaware of the consequences of my death, whether I would meet a robed skeleton holding a scythe or I'd go to Heaven or Hell or I would be reincarnated or mayhaps I'd turn into a ghost or I'd sleep for eternity—at the end, I did not care enough and had inferred that life was much harsher than death.

I want to die.

The debouching feeling of sadness threaded with the unbearable pain in my chest, made me feel dizzy. Not once did the cascade of tears stop, streaking down as though determined to empty my soul.

God had occasionally delivered an incomprehensible calamity into my life, destroying my hope and passion, and flipping everything I had saved as a memory in my head. And I couldn't take it any longer. In this brutal world, the tie of lonesomeness drew me into a dark room of pessimism. I was numb on the inside. My tongue was parched as if someone had shoved a fistful of irritating powder down my mouth. My eyes were a mess.

Will there ever be an end to this?

There is one end.

Resoluteness and unhindered confidence settled deep within me as I stood in front of the train tracks.

When I watched the train approaching at an indiscernible speed just where I stood, my patience with the torrential rain and anticipation of my death finally paid off. My wet hair clung to my face, and I blinked, drawing them away as I took a few long breaths to relax and closed my eyes, expecting the train to slam into my frail body with all its force.

All of a sudden a voice shouted, "what the hell are you doing?"

Someone grabbed me away from the tracks before I could even open my eyes, slamming my face onto a wet, hard chest. As I wriggled to free myself from the man's firm grip, the ground beneath me and the sky above me trembled violently.

The train blew its horn, now the sound of it becoming louder and louder with ticking time and it would just take a few seconds for it to run down the railway, along with my chances of dying.

And in a trice, it was gone.

"Why did you do this? Why did you do this?" I cried out, hitting his chest repeatedly as I choked. The tears couldn't be distinguished from the raindrops that drenched both the man and I.

"Hey, relax," the man muttered softly as though the strong spontaneous blows of my balled fist on his chest didn't hurt him.

But it did hurt me.

"I lost my chance of dying because of you!"

My breaths came in gasps, darkness contouring my eyes as though I would blackout. My heart was hammering inside my chest as it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin. And then, my uneven blows on the man's chest stopped abruptly, ceasing to termination as I placed my hands on my head, trying to make everything stop, make it slow to something my brain and body could cope with. I felt so sick. Everything was spinning, the ground was melting under my feet. I collapsed onto my hands and knees, my breathing shallow and quick.

I could hear the stranger saying something, but he sounded distant and muffled as if his voice was coming from the other side of a dark and deep tunnel. My stomach flipped at an unknown feeling of dread that crept up.

"Look at me. Look at me," I heard him say as he pushed my chin up to face him.

Reluctantly, I looked up at his hazy figure, blurred. His wet bangs that fell on his face almost covered his eyes. Without another word, he took my one trembling hand and placed it on my stomach, indicating to me to caress it as he held the other in his hand before intertwining the fingers.

"Take deep breaths and close your eyes."

I tried breathing but the air seemed to act stubborn as I felt it getting lodged in my throat, blocking instead of passing through my wind canal.

"Try."

I did.

"Release."

And I did.

Again, I repeated the same process.

My hearing was the first to return as I heeded his voice more than just mere somewhat incoherent words then my eyesight followed suit. I was still shaking as I pushed back onto my knees, grabbing the man's shoulders as I stood up.

I was breathing again.

But I still felt weak.

My eyes for the first time saw the man before me properly as the first thing I noticed on his face was his sweet, comforting, boxy smile.

"Let me take you to a safe place."