It’s funny how a place can be so different at one period of time and the complete opposite at another. Canary Station is a place that bears both good and bad memories. The station is located on the outskirts of the city and it is the only mode of transport that I use on my way back from college. It is a place that is enchanted with vibrant hues in the morning but these hues are soon engulfed in the darkness as night creeps in and the aura changes into a dark and sinister one with a subtle sensation of the supernatural.
Spending a dark night all alone at Canary station was not something I’d cherish, but since my teacher had taken an extra hour to finish her lecture, I had no choice but to board this last train. It was a chilly night and the entire station was empty. There were two or three more passengers on the opposite platform who seemed busy with their own work. The only person on my side of the platform was the owner of an all night tea stall. This man was known for his cold and mysterious demeanour. He was a slim and lanky man with dark eyes and a dusky complexion. People often avoided visiting him although his tea was the best in the station and children never came near him despite the fact that his counter was aligned with colourful candies. Adding to it is the fact that his stall is only open at night.
I was sitting on a bench under a flickering lamp post. I had nothing to do than to watch the insects hover around the lamp post, after all they were the only trustworthy companions I had. There was still half an hour left for the train to come and therefore, I decided to get a cup of tea and also try to approach this enigmatic man. I went towards the lone tea stall and placed a note on the counter while asking for a cup of tea. The man gave me a cold and strangely creepy glare while arranging my order. He gave me the hot tea and along with it he said something I would’ve been happy to not hear. “She is coming.”
Instinctively, I turned to look back and to my surprise I saw a girl dancing on the other side of the platform. Her steps matched the European Waltz dance as she took the steps out gracefully. She wore an old fashioned white dress and had long black hair. I was admiring her beauty but soon the admiration broke into utter horror when she stopped dancing and stood as still as a statue while grinning at me. She had a huge smile plastered on her face which made me shiver and soon after, she took a large leap and the next thing I know is that she is standing right in front of my face. I could hear the shopkeeper chuckling mischievously , I turned back to ask him for help but I was left in for a shock when he was nowhere to be seen, upon turning back to the girl, she too was gone. I looked around and realized that the two or three passengers on the other side of the platform had disappeared as well.
I held my sling bag tightly to my chest and ran out of the station without stopping or looking back at what was behind me. I escaped through the station gate and stopped to catch my breath, that is when the stillness of the night was shattered by the loud whistle of the approaching train and I knew it was the train I was waiting for. I was debating whether I should go back or not but before I could, a bus halted right next to me and I chose the bus over the haunted station.
The bus was crowded and I finally felt at ease. Upon asking a few passengers about Canary Station, one answer from an elderly man left me satisfied. He stated that long ago there was a girl who adored dancing but her parents forbid her from choosing dance as a part of her career. Therefore, to escape from the suppression, she fled from her house one night to catch a train and in this run she met her tragic end. He also added that many others had similar experiences on cold winter nights when this girl had met her tragic end many years ago. It is said she visits the station in order to fulfill her passion. This story made me realize how society has shaped the minds of people and how these small dreams will make it big one day, only if they were to be given a chance. I felt sympathy for her and understood what she had felt but if I were to board a train one night, I would never choose Canary Station.
