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Call of the Void
CW: SUICIDAL IDEATION
Mrs McLean was perched on a bench at the mostly empty train platform trying to eat her bacon and egg roll neatly while balancing her shopping bags on her lap. It was a disappointing roll; the bacon was too undercooked and fatty, and the egg was even worse. She’d plucked up the courage to ask for the yolk to be “as runny as you can get it, please” but instead it had gone orange and congealed, and she hadn’t the nerve to ask them to redo it. The roll was also too crispy for her liking with crumbs sticking to her mouth, and worse, falling on her shopping. She felt terribly self-conscious, looking around at the other people on the platform to make sure she wasn’t being observed. Mrs McLean would usually have waited until she had gotten home to have such messy food, but she’d taken to dizzy spells lately and her daughter’s voice was stuck in her head.
“You have to eat when you’re out mum, your blood pressure gets too low – you’re at that age now where you need to take care of yourself.”
Her daughter had delivered this in the same tone Mrs McLean had used when she was potty training her children and it still stung. The public eating was a kind of rebellion then, proof that she was still responsible and in control. She was regretting it deeply. A funny turn was better than the humiliation of paying £3.50 for a subpar roll and the fear of a stranger literally catching her with egg on her face.
She was halfway through chewing when she heard the sing-song of the announcement.
“Please stand clear of platform two, fast train approaching.”
It seized her then. A thought that was so urgent and surprising that she forgot how to swallow, the bacon and egg turning to mush in her mouth.
--What if I jumped in front of the train.--
She’d never had a thought like this and the thrill of it sent a jolt through her tummy, stirring the contents of her stomach. She swallowed the bacon-and-egg-mush, but the thought remained, niggling at her like a bad tooth.
--It would be fast. I’d barely feel a thing. I’d be in all the newspapers--
She felt a wild delight picturing the confused faces of her children when they heard the news.
“There must be some sort of mistake – Julianne McLean, are you sure?”
Inside, she was frenzied, ecstatic, picturing herself flying through the air before a perfect fade to black. At that moment, she heard it – the rush of air as the train came hissing through the station. She felt electric as she rose to her feet, ready to pirouette into the perfect conclusion to her perfectly mundane life.
“Oof.”
She let out a pathetic exclamation as the blood went rushing to her head. Her roll fell out her hands with a soft thud and her shopping landed heavily on the ground. The train passed quickly, and through her dizziness, Mrs McLean felt all the adrenaline leave her body. Her cheeks reddened as she saw the few commuters on the platform look over at her with concern. Panicked, she shoved the half-eaten roll in her shopping bag; greasy bacon and egg smearing her box of cornflakes. She scurried up the platform stairs, feeling light-headed and guilty as she walked towards the bus station.
© Diane Lawlor
Mrs McLean was perched on a bench at the mostly empty train platform trying to eat her bacon and egg roll neatly while balancing her shopping bags on her lap. It was a disappointing roll; the bacon was too undercooked and fatty, and the egg was even worse. She’d plucked up the courage to ask for the yolk to be “as runny as you can get it, please” but instead it had gone orange and congealed, and she hadn’t the nerve to ask them to redo it. The roll was also too crispy for her liking with crumbs sticking to her mouth, and worse, falling on her shopping. She felt terribly self-conscious, looking around at the other people on the platform to make sure she wasn’t being observed. Mrs McLean would usually have waited until she had gotten home to have such messy food, but she’d taken to dizzy spells lately and her daughter’s voice was stuck in her head.
“You have to eat when you’re out mum, your blood pressure gets too low – you’re at that age now where you need to take care of yourself.”
Her daughter had delivered this in the same tone Mrs McLean had used when she was potty training her children and it still stung. The public eating was a kind of rebellion then, proof that she was still responsible and in control. She was regretting it deeply. A funny turn was better than the humiliation of paying £3.50 for a subpar roll and the fear of a stranger literally catching her with egg on her face.
She was halfway through chewing when she heard the sing-song of the announcement.
“Please stand clear of platform two, fast train approaching.”
It seized her then. A thought that was so urgent and surprising that she forgot how to swallow, the bacon and egg turning to mush in her mouth.
--What if I jumped in front of the train.--
She’d never had a thought like this and the thrill of it sent a jolt through her tummy, stirring the contents of her stomach. She swallowed the bacon-and-egg-mush, but the thought remained, niggling at her like a bad tooth.
--It would be fast. I’d barely feel a thing. I’d be in all the newspapers--
She felt a wild delight picturing the confused faces of her children when they heard the news.
“There must be some sort of mistake – Julianne McLean, are you sure?”
Inside, she was frenzied, ecstatic, picturing herself flying through the air before a perfect fade to black. At that moment, she heard it – the rush of air as the train came hissing through the station. She felt electric as she rose to her feet, ready to pirouette into the perfect conclusion to her perfectly mundane life.
“Oof.”
She let out a pathetic exclamation as the blood went rushing to her head. Her roll fell out her hands with a soft thud and her shopping landed heavily on the ground. The train passed quickly, and through her dizziness, Mrs McLean felt all the adrenaline leave her body. Her cheeks reddened as she saw the few commuters on the platform look over at her with concern. Panicked, she shoved the half-eaten roll in her shopping bag; greasy bacon and egg smearing her box of cornflakes. She scurried up the platform stairs, feeling light-headed and guilty as she walked towards the bus station.
© Diane Lawlor
