We sit in our empty train compartment, our head against the window as we observe the passing landscape cloaked in darkness thanks to this particularly beautiful brumous day. We hit a bump in the track and we are brought back to reality slightly amused at how far away we just were. We hear a noise at the door and see a man enter, he seems to not notice us, instead struggling to put his bags away before finally collapsing exhausted in the seat across from us, and we finally get the chance to get a better look at him. His exhaustion is written plainly on his face, what had 3 weeks ago been a healthy full face was now gaunt, lack of sustenance had torn away at him, his cheeks caved in, his brilliant sapphire eyes now two dull stones set too far back in his skull. His hair hangs in greasy locks around his face leading us to wonder the last time it had seen shampoo. He was wearing a business that matched him perfectly in its pathos, it was beset with wrinkles and the tie seemed to be desperately clinging to his neck for dear life. To look like this at 11:00 am we find ourselves wondering what day he was having. He pulls a bottle of pills out of one of his bags and pours out a handful, seeming to momentarily look reflectively at them before swallowing them without the aid of any liquids like he just didn't give a shit anymore. He hangs his head and takes a deep shaky breath and as he exhales we can hear the tears seeping into his voice and we see tear trails moving down his cheeks. It is when he raises his head that he finally sees us, his face becoming noticeably whiter, a sight we are not unaccustomed to.
"You!" he screams, launching to his feet a spiteful finger pointed in our face. "It was you! You are the one who took her from me. How could you?" His words become more and more difficult to understand as his soft crying turns into sobbing, yet he continues yelling. "You will pay for what you've done, I swear it." A defiant scowl on his face.
"We serve a purpose, everyone does, you must understand." Millions of voices echo the same words, forming our voice.
"NO! NO!" Going into dramatic hysterics now, "No I DON'T have to understand and I refuse to."
"Why do you have so much fear?" His sobbing starts to subside at these words, "It's natural and it will always happen, no matter how hard you fight it. Why should she be the only exception?" Anger seeps into my/your/our voice, and we take a deep calming breath.
"When I first lost her," all the rage and hatred in his voice dissipated and was replaced with sorrow and hopelessness, "I was so miserable I wanted to die." He slumps into his seat and stares out the window remembering the world as it will never be. "I kept asking myself, 'Why is the Earth still spinning? Now that she's gone nothing deserves to be, why hasn't the world crashed and stopped?' but it didn't," His eyes fill with tears and his voice cracks. "The world moved on and left her behind, and it left me behind too, I have no place without her, no home."
"You would throw away everyone's life just for her?" Before he answers we cut over him. "What a selfish act, but ultimately an irrelevant one as you are already dead." His eyes get wide.
"Dead? But when did I..." We point at the bottle still in his hand and it sinks in. At this reveal, he breaks into full on sobs again, finally dropping the bottle.
"Now I'll never see her again, and you are here to take me away." He drops his head. "Just make it quick, anything will be better than this."
"Maybe not, your plight has moved me, in my millions of years dividing lovers nothing has moved me as much as your words. Your love is genuine and I want to see it flourish." As we finish, all our voices coming to a rapturous horrendous stop a beautiful woman enters the compartment. Her abyss black hair floats around her head like some cosmic black hole, her pale skin complements her perfectly and her brilliant eyes (the complete opposite of her husband's currently) lit up her face and makes even our hearts sway in our chest. He runs to her and they cry in each other's arms, a beautiful and touching sight. He steps out of her embrace but keeps his arm around her as though she would disappear if he took his hand away.
"I never thought that death would be the answer to my problems, but I guess I was wrong."
"I retract your death, I'll give you a chance to be with your love, but know this: Life is just an equation," We point intensely at him, "Death is always the answer." The woman disappears leaving us alone with him and already he looks healthier than a few minutes ago. A smile breaks out on his face and he opens his mouth to say something but he drops, dead before he hits the ground. We soar up through the roof of the cart, watching the train roar off into the country. Why did we lie to him? There was no hope for him, but we felt good giving him one last smile.
