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Kitty was not a girl who was inclined to emotional outbursts, however in this particular moment the only thing she wanted to do was tear out her hair and scream. The train station was cold and it was ******** lonely, and as she disembarked the train, she pulled her American flag flask from the pocket of her studded cargo vest and took a long, much-needed swig. Southern Comfort burned its way down her throat and almost immediately soothed her nerves. What she had seen in the city that day had been almost too much to handle...things that she could never tell another living soul, because nobody would believe her. Nobody would want to listen. It was the kind of s**t from cartoons. Her hands, wet either because they were clammy or from the now-pouring rain, struggled to drop the flask back into the pocket. The only nearby solace from the rain was the tunnel in which to cross from the inward to outward-bound side, and it was poorly lit in yellow light and smelled, strongly, of pee.
xxxxThe whiskey made the tunnel slightly more tolerable. There were small patches of weeds growing close to the tunnel's entrance and water dripped, painfully slowly, from the rounded archway onto the pavement below Kitty's feet as she crouched down and waited for the rain to let up. She was in no shape to walk home, especially not when she felt like this. There was nobody to talk to about it. Except that...thing, the thing she hadn't even seen since she had made her stupid wish. She buried her auburn head in her hands and let out a groan that wanted to be a sob. If only she could muster the strength.
