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Writer's pictureEkanem

A lady in red heels

She trotted along the platform ending up right beside me. It was a bit early for shades but never the less she rocked her Armani shades on a chilly autumn morning, like she was hiding something behind them. But that notion was slightly tinted by her somewhat conspicuous entrance on the station platform.

May be she hadn’t much of a choice, it was a Monday and the last night of the weekend had just translated to morning. Judging by her slightly ceased outfit she probably had a late night and slept at a friend's place. A friend who apparently didn’t wear the same shoe size as she did. Her toes were probably nerve dead by now. She looked slightly uncomfortably in the 6 inch red peep toes platforms.


I had been standing at the platform, waiting and watching the trains come and go, people climbed in the cars and froze on the seats or stood in a pose. It often happened in a frenzied haze. My presence only physical for the time. My mind wondered off like it usually did as i waited for the 9.30am train, imaginations of the day I would no longer have to wait for a train for lack of choice, my day dreaming was at its peak in the mornings, my mind sharp and creativity uncanny. Today though there were interrupted. Interrupted by the woman in the red heels, she wasn’t the only one in heels on the platform but her heels were loud, they echoed across to meet me where I stood, the distraction lingered only awhile.


That was right before she throw herself in front of the oncoming train. One moment she stood at my side and the next she was off the platform. I felt rather than heard the front of the train slam into her frame as it sped past. It was almost as if she had been connected to me in some way, impossible to explain my feelings at the time. I am only sure i couldn’t possibly have felt what she felt but i had felt or sensed an acute pain in the centre of my being, an intangible shock that wrecked me.


The screeching of the wheels on the rails deafened me, I couldn’t have heard anything else. And the screams i eventually did hear were in slow motion, not sure if there were mine, my limbs had given way beneath me, it was all so overwhelming I could hardly breath, my heart rate accelerated leaving me panting for breath.


The woman had taken her life, just like that. Like she was to get a new one later on in the day at no cost at all. I was numb with disbelief and panic and goose bumps crept up, my arms and legs. I covered my ears with my hands as if to block out the reality.


She didn’t survive; she was hardly in one piece when the paramedics got her off the rails I heard in the news that evening. Playing back events had been difficult as I only remember blocking out the noise, an attempt to block out the reality, my reality and her reality.


I discovered the woman in the Red shoes and Armani shades lived in the same complex as I do, with a partner. The following morning i dragged myself to work, baffled at the previous morning's events, reasons why she would have done what she did sauntered through my mind. The case of course had been concluded as a suicide, plain as day. The trains ran like clockwork now. Life had gone on as normal.


Two days later, there was a knock at my door....








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