Jane

• Tamasine Crocker, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2013

A young man dozing heavily is suddenly jolted awake. The yellow lights of Basildon have woken him. Voices run from one end of the platform to the other, curtaining the train in noise. He raises the blind and stares at the passing blurs. A heavy pounding of rain has descended. The other passengers slumber peacefully, whilst the young man searches the early morning gloom. The bleak colours of black and grey are interrupted by a bright purple. A young woman standing with her hand raised to the glass of the train, face almost pressed against the passing windows peers into the carriages. The man jolts back as her hand slams against his window. A bloody handprint is left behind. The figures on the platform move faster, spinning and sprinting away. The noises die and the train shudders in the cold breeze. The man scoops up his mobile phone from the bed, dialling a number known by heart. He waits impatiently for the person to pick up.

He utters one word, one name as the receiver picks up. “Jane.”

The young woman stands alone on the empty platform starring in the direction of the train's fleeing movements. She draws a phone out of her pocket and fumbles with the keys, wiping blood onto her dress.

"Janey dear, just left you a message." The young woman throws her phone to the ground and stomps on it with her bare feet, cutting her petite toes. Then, with stinging eyes, hands and feet she hurls the phone onto the tracks waiting to be run over by the next train.