Disturbance ( a short story)

Disturbance

                The bench is hard. It’s cracking with every movement. Left to right, you will be shaken, regardless of if that’s what you want or not. It’s packed and smelly. The distinct smell is a mixture of perfume, bubble gum and your bench neighbor who has seemingly never seen the insides of a bathroom. The smell of alcohol joins the others, silently disturbing your nose in intervals.

                And there she is; the next perpetrator. She wears a burqa. Black from head to toe, with only a little bit of space to breathe through, she is covered in this sack that does not offer you any insights into her soul. You feel like you can’t breathe. It’s a feeling as if you wore the burqa, not her. To intensify the feeling, she has brought a backpack. The backpack looks filled up, with no space left for any freedom. Not even the insides of her backpack have liberty.

                You can see her eyes scanning you. You feel naked, because you are not granted the chance to hide behind such an extraordinary piece of fabric. Is she angry? Does she have a plan? You stare back. Somehow though, you feel this is inappropriate and thus, you scan the cabin. There are several people who apparently share the same images in their heads. One man even has some sweat on his forehead.

                If only sweat was the only bothering thing in here, you think. Your eyes meet hers again. You wonder if you should switch into another cabin, or if this would be even more inappropriate. Life can be over, within the blink of an eye. There are more people joining the scene and some leave. The ones that leave actually survived.

                Your heart beats faster, as she is tightening the grip around her backpack. You begin to count. One, two … three… five, there are several people in here that would definitely die. It is even inappropriate to think about this, but what if? And when is she finally going to leave, to give you some peace? How long can a train ride possibly be?

                The normal fifteen minutes you need from one stop to the other stretch out to an eternity. Uncountable masses of people come and go, but you are stuck in this mess with the strangest feelings plaguing your mind. You wouldn’t even have time to reminisce about your life.

                Then, a black lady joins the scene. She smiles at the burqa woman and greets her. Apparently, they know each other. It takes a load of your mind, but it also leaves you behind, feeling more than ashamed. What if you were in her shoes? Still thinking, you hear the announcement of the stop that you have to get off at. Life is too short to waste fifteen minutes.