I really should have been happy. The socialist in me was pointing out that all over the world, children were starving as I complained about leaving for college. But I couldn't be happy. I was leaving my home, my friends, my family. Everything good in my life was about to be torn away from me, and people were asking if I was excited to go!
"Greenhill is one of the best girl's schools in Oregon," claimed my father. Over the phone. As always.
"I'm sure you'll be happy there," my mother argued. She has never been the same since the divorce...
A lighting bolt illuminated the room.
My adorable Irish-Catholic grandfather had been my true guardian since my parents split up. He had been against the divorce from the beginning. He left this world last week.
Thunder roared as rain hammered the train station roof.
The anger and sadness filled me to the brim. I couldn't take it any longer. I walked into the women's restroom as calmly as I could. The once beautiful mid-century modern design was browned, cracked, dirty. I peeked at my watch. 5:03 AM. The train wasn't due for another twenty minutes. After checking over all the stalls for pornographic drawings or writings, I took a seat in the one I felt most comfortable in. I took out my now crimson tampon and replaced it with a fresh, new white one.
Heh, seems like a metaphor for life. Out with the old and disgusting, in with the new and clean.
The room was silent besides the twinkle of my own urine. It made me feel surprisingly uncomfortable to be so alone. I was uncomfortable and self conscious of normal bodily functions.
Thunder struck again, as I finished up my business. No toilet paper. Wow.
Considering I was alone in the restroom, I waddled into the next stall, panties around my ankles, in a desperate search.
Of course as soon as I bend over to grab some from under the sink, someone walks in. I turn around in a desperate attempt to hide my lower lady-parts from this intruder.
"Hi!" said the redhead enthusiastically. Needless to say, I screamed and jumped into a stall.
"Okay, I see you're occupied..." she said as she walked out.
Screw her! I hate her! I hate myself for allowing myself to be exposed like that! She's so perky and friendly about it like it was nothing...
I looked in the smudged mirror into my green eyes. How could someone see me so vulnerable? It occurred to me this was the first person to see my genitals that wasn't a doctor or my mother.
Why am I so uncomfortable with myself? I sighed.
"Buck up, girlie!" Grandpa seemed to say to me.
He's right. I tucked in my long sleeve polo into my plaid skirt, buckled my shoes, pulled up my socks, and put my brunette curls into a ponytail.
As soon as I left, I saw the time on the clock - 5:06.
I let out a sigh apparently audible enough to be heard by all six people in the station. I sat on a bench which I'd padlocked my baggage to earlier, a tip Grandpa gave me.
Oh my, there's that redhead. Why won't she stop looking at me?
I buried myself in a book to avoid her glare. I knew it could only be temporary. She was wearing a Greenhill baseball cap.
Thunder struck again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Time flies when you read a great book.
A bright tone followed by a sterile, feminine voice broke my trance.
"Now arriving is the 5:23 to Portland."
I couldn't hide from the redhead anymore. I let my hair down in a vain attempt to keep from being noticed.
"Tickets," sang a porter.
"He-here it is," I stuttered. That orange-haired slut was behind me.
"Kayla O'Rourke?" continued the porter. Oh great, now she knows my name. "Are you related to John O'Rourke?"
"Yes, he's... he was my grandfather," I dutifully replied, holding back tears. I haven't even had breakfast and this was already the worst day of my life.
"Well, I'm sorry for your loss," said the porter, comfortingly. "Your grandfather was the best ballplayer this town has ever seen."
The ball in my throat got bigger, and I ran out into the pouring rain. I just stood, staring into the sky, for a good minute or two. My beautiful white shirt turned a shade of grey under the rain. I was soaked.
"Last call for 5:23 to Portland," the sterile voice warned.
I got into an empty passenger car, sat in the far back, and sobbed. It's rare when you can get a whole car to yourself. My shirt was drenched. My hair was black as night and dripping wet. There was no way I could be seen by any other human.
Then, I heard a flush.
Walking out of the bathroom in the seemingly empty car was the redhead.
"Ahhh, finally," she sighed. There was no way she couldn't hear my crying now.
"What's the matter, hun?" she asked. This was by far the most awkward moment of my life.
"Today's the matter." I replied reluctantly. "Everything's been going wrong!"
"Oh yeah... heh... sorry for the whole bathroom thing earlier." At least she regretted it, too.
My crying got more intense as the train sped up.
How could someone not twenty-two be so motherly to me? I thought I hated this girl not a half an hour ago. How could she be treating me so humanly? She's seen the ugliest part of me.
"Take off that wet shirt and put on this one," she recommended, holding up a dry Greenhill shirt.
Without even questioning myself, I peeled the cotton from my flesh. My cold, wet breasts revealed themselves in a tight bounce after my shirt pulled over them.
Why was I doing this? What would Grandpa say? This girl was probably the third or fourth person to see every inch of me and I didn't even know her name.
As quickly as my polo came off, the t-shirt came on.
"There we go. That's better." This stranger was comforting me, even after she learned I'm an 19 year old virgin. I was taught the world wouldn't be such an accepting place.
The rain began to lighten up.
"I'm Kathryn," she said. "You can call me Kitty."
"My name is Kayla," I responded once I came to my senses a bit.
"You should get some sleep Kayla. It's a long trip to Greenhill..."
I took Kitty's advice. I cuddled my baggage in my dry shirt, using my skirt crumpled up as a pillow and my jacket as a blanket.
Maybe I should give today a second chance...
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