I'm going to do it I'm going to do it I'm going I'm going I'm here. I stand at the edge of the end of the Fourth and Ninth Street platform, my toes dancing along the yellow hazard line. I look out over the handrail next to me, just inches to the right of where my feet are positioned, between the handrail on the side of the tracks and the edge of the platform. Darkness has draped itself over the city like a deep purple scarf, something my fourth-grade teacher would wrap and tie around her neck. Light from the windows of buildings dot the landscape, the corny little gemstones arranged in flower patterns along the hems of the scarf.
My phone rings.
I know who it is. I want to answer it. No, no I don't because I'm going to do it I'm going to do it I'm going--
"Toni!" Vanessa's voice rings in my ear.
"Toni! Toni, where are you? What's going on? Toni, what did you mean in those texts?"
I close my eyes. When I open them, suddenly the melancholy spell of depression breaks, and everything actualizes around me. I see the people. I see the places. I see the world. And I see that I am broken. A sob is released from my throat as tears begin to run down my face. They gush. I'm soaking in my own sadness.
"Vanessa," I moan.
"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone with me. Talk to me. Tell me what you see."
"I see the sky."
"Okay, good. Do you like the sky?"
"Yes, it's beautiful. It looks like a scarf Ms. Rosenthorne would've worn."
She chuckles. It's a real laugh. I can hear that she's crying, but she's laughing too.
"You're right, Toni. You're so right."
We ride the train home together. Vanessa had run all the way there and came sprinting down the platform only about five minutes after I picked up the phone. My head rests on her shoulder, and her hands are clasped around tight. Our legs are flush up against each other, and Vanessa pushes into my leg with hers, as if trying to prevent me from leaving. She whispers "I love you," over and over and over and over into my ear and squeezes my hands every time she says "you."
"I love you too, Vanessa."
When we get to my stop, I start to get up, but she pulls me back down. and looks me in the eyes. Hers are glistening with tears, but they are strong and her gaze is firm. She smiles.
"You're coming home with me tonight. I'm not letting you leave me quite yet."