Relying on his intuition, Jerry applies pressure to the brakes of the train. He wants to avoid being too fast toward the end of the platform or he will have to come to an abrupt stop. While he is shifting his gaze between the end of the station and the speed dial, he suddenly notices a quick movement in between the pillars of the platform. For a split second something came out and went back again into the row of steel girders. Jerry puts his hand on the emergency brake and focuses his eyes on that spot.There, again! He sees a woman's head protruding, tilted over in an unnatural angle, seemingly in distress. The shoulder-long, black, and straight hair is covering her face. Her head is wavering and she is holding on to one of the pillars. She seems to try to keep herself from falling over. Why the fuck is nobody holding her back? Jerry feels anxious. At a loss what to do, he reaches for the button that activates the train horn. Jerry pushes it.
The compressor blows the air through the valve and the deafening sound emerges from the horn. In an instant it travels about 60 yards to where the woman is standing. Through her ear canal and transmitted through her skull, it finally tears on her ear drum. The violence of the sound catching the woman off guard and the startle which to a healthy person would have been nothing more than a nuisance, in her already unstable state, is enough to make her let go of the pillar. Her shaky knees are not ready to take on her whole weight. The request for stability and balance is too much of a burden for them and they collapse. She falls to the ground with her head hanging over the platform edge. The shift of balance from the settling limbs, puts her center of gravity over the edge and she slides into the track pit. With a thud she hits the tracks. Then, soft groaning. There she lies sprawled out and barely conscious.
As Jerry realizes the scene, he startles into an alert wakefulness and before he can think about what he is doing, he has already activated the emergency brake. The screeching of metal abrading metal. The bump of the cars being jammed into each other. Momentum pushing him forward over the console and his face close to the front window. From there he can tell that it’s about 20 more yards to the woman lying in the pit. He will run her over. Jerry feels like running out of his booth. He pushes himself back from the windshield trying to reach for the horn button, but he doesn’t want to push it again. He feels trapped in the booth feeling the impossibility of escaping the world which is rushing onto his front window. Jerry’s heart beat begins to violently shake his chest. The momentum of the braking train constantly pushing forward, forcing him to where he doesn’t want to go. As last resort in his desperation, he vaults to his seat and sits down on it sideways, pressed against the metal back wall. He bends over and turns his head away from the windshield. He pushes his face into the booth door, draws his chin to his chest pressing his eyes shut, and covers his ears with his hands.
He can hear the frantic shouts of the people on the platform. Then, a quick thump, an uproar of screams, and cloth sliding. Jerry cowers in his booth knowing that he will have to go outside.