Craig Binch
Darren was on edge. They’d changed his meds today but he hadn’t taken them. He knew what they were trying to do. He was twitchy, eyes darting up and down the crowded platform there were too many people.
He couldn’t breathe, clenching his fists and tapping like they’d taught him. He ripped at the top button of his shirt to get some air, he was sweaty, his heart beating out of his chest and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.
He just needed to get home, but someone was following him. He’d taken three buses and crossed the road every few metres to get away, but everywhere he looked, they were there! In the shadows, hoods pulled up, watching him. He put his own hood up to disguise himself, he was surrounded.
He stared through the crowd and spotted one of ‘them’ meandering through the dense sea of commuters, heading straight for him.
He had to get away, but the crowd was too much. The man was a metre away. Eyes wide he jumped over the yellow line, instinctive hands darted out to catch him as he fell, the crowd parted as he hit the track and a thousand volts pulsed through him.
A moment of silence on the platform, a siren sounded and someone screamed.