I look up at the notice board; the only train that's available at this moment in time would deport the station within the next ten minutes. I need to get away from here. Any place would do just as long as I could get away! I walked up to the ticket reception after getting all of my ducklings in a row. "Good evening, how can I be of any assistance to you, ma'am?" A young lady with effective African roots asked me in Afrikaans. She's got a deep flawless Western Province accent, giving off the feeling that she must have grown up in 'First River'. I smile at her kindly or at least as best as I could muster under the circumstances. "I see there's a train that's departing for 'Mosselbaai'. Is there any seats available?" I asked her in a hopeful tone. "As a matter of fact, yes, this seems to be your lucky day. There had been a last minute cancellation. Would you like to purchase a ticket?" She asked me with a broad yet warm smile which effortlessly reaches her eyes. I nod in response as I retrieve my wallet from my coat's pocket. I hand over my identification document, which is necessary to make the purchase, before paying the fee. She passed the ticket over. "I hope that you enjoy your journey, ma'am." I took the ticket from her with a forced smile and made my way over towards the train sluggishly yet at a quick pace before I could change my mind and run back into his awaiting arms. I fear that his pained expression will haunt me for years to come; the thought pesters through my mind as I reach the platform.
As I aboard the train an elderly man, salt and pepper breaking through a thick mob of black hair, smiles down. The beam that shines upon the old man's face licks at his deep forest green eyes. He takes the permit from my hands and pointed me into the direction of my seat, a window seat and it's precisely what I need. Nobody to ask me why I seem to be so sad and broken. Nobody to ask me to depend on them or offer a shoulder to lean upon. It's just me and my window seat.
My mind fills up with a whirlpool of memories as all the while emotions floods me. How could they have kept this from me? Didn't it once occur to any of them that I had a right to know? Even though my heart's broken into millions of little shards, I still can't seem to push the memory of him away. I am devastated at everybody: My parents, my friends, my brothers… God dammit, I'm angry with everybody that had been present and mainly had the nerves to overlook it completely. Still throughout it all, I can't see how I'm to not feel bad for Ella. Liam might have thought, at the moment, that he did the right thing, for which I'm glad he had, but this is surely going to put a strain on their relationship. I reminiscence the video that I've watched merely moments before, feeling mistreated. How could he have wronged me like this? How could he have said those things so casually? I take out my phone from my pocket and gaze down at the blank screen. Five more minutes before departure, I noticed after I pushed the side button to unlock my mobile. Three hundred seconds is hardly enough time for a descent kiss, yet it feels like a lifetime to me. Quickly I re-locked the smart phone and buried it back into the pocket.
A Multitude of times the device had vibrated against my body, but I ignore it. I really don't want to talk to anybody right now; especially Misha! Coming to think about it I have absolutely no idea how I'm to survive in a strange place all by myself. I don't have any income nor do I have a place to stay. Zero relatives of mine lives in that area. But let's be honest here, that's not the part that upsets me the most; all of these thoughts about Misha and I that's flooding my head like a tidal wave… it's the most upsetting. I wipe a tear gloomily away that rolled in a lonesome fashion down my cheek. My heart's trying to overpower my decision of leaving, to which my head reasons logically. If only he had told me. If only he hadn't kept this from me. The outcome would have most likely still been the same, but at least then I would have know what to expect when the video were forwarded to me privately. As I'm beginning to think that perhaps my reaction had been uncalled for, a rational response from my head pipes up, confirming that I'm doing the right thing for everybody sake. A cornucopia of emotions fills me up to the brim; confusion being the eye of the hurricane that's erupting within me.
I lift up my head to look out of the window as the train starts to move away from the station, just to get a glimpse of a panicked Misha rushing up onto the platform. Giovanni followed him in a hurry. Fingers intensely snaking through my collage buddy's hair. Grief and distress, clearly readable within his panicked features. The same look is plastered on the Greek God's structures too. "GENEVIEVE!!!" Misha's grief-stricken tone faintly reaches my ears. Still it's enough to throw my senses into a pandemonium state. My heart splinters into smithereens as tears begins to fall at an overwhelming swiftness. I simply can't seem to get a cap on my emotions, the more I wipe them away, the more the waterworks follows. Regret, that's what I'm feeling right now. A pang of guilt nibbles at my soul. I'm sorry, perhaps you and I, Mr. Misha Anderson were just never meant to be… I apologized mentally as I lay with my head against the cold window watching the passing scenery.