Departure

As she stepped onto the train, embarking on her journey into the sunset she met the shining, teary eyes of her mother, crying for the loss of the life that she had chosen to leave behind. Her mother’s hand moved slightly, as though she was going to attempt to reach out to her, but the movement was quickly aborted. Her hand quickly moved, retreating behind her back as her posture straightened, unconsciously trying to hide her earlier movement.
The train’s bell rang and her mother winced, the sound too loud for her aging ears. She quickly covered them with her hands, taking a step back. No one waved to her as the train pulled away, like they always did in the stories as the protagonist faded into the distance, finally at peace. The hero would look forlornly out of the window, sending farewells to family as they slowly pulled away.
As the train pulled away, she did not look out the window at the horizon, contemplating her lost past and approaching future. Instead, she slung her backpack off of her right shoulder, letting it swing in a controlled ark to hang in front of her chest, allowing her to reach in easily and grope within for her keys. When her fingers grasped around them, she withdrew her hand, slipping the keys up her sleeve as she does so, lodging them in the folded cuff of her jacket. She smiled to herself, seeing a reflection of her current life in the many stories packed into her mind and bag.
She went to find a seat from which to stare out the window and watch the world ride past, but she was not able to find any, wandering for a few moments amongst the crowded cars until she gives up and finds an area to stand. It was rush hour, and the train was packed with commuters who were seeking to relax after a long day of work.
This train does not continue on into the sunset. This train does not make a stop at a perfect ending. She will have to disembark soon, as continuing in the direction she has started will not take her anywhere new. The train only stops at the known. She will have to come up with the next steps for her new life, she will have to become the ramifications of her decision to simply leave behind the story she did no longer wished to be a part of.
But for now, she will stand by the door, watching out the window as the sights she has lived with for all of her life slowly fade into to something that is not entirely new, but is still able to hold a hint of a future, a backpack filled with empty mementos jostling against her back at every subtle bump in the track.

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