The Other Side

I often write about the silly, funny, amusing or generally odd occurrences that I observe while using public transportation here in Chicago. I like those stories. The ones that make you feel good, proud to live in a big city like this, excited by the energy, the crowds and the passing of life.

Today's post is not that type of story.

I was riding the Red Line down to a friend's house, and we got on the train at Addison heading south.

The train was somewhat full, so I walked through the train car to find two seats together. We sat, and only then did we notice a young twenty-something girl hunched over, sleeping/passing out, drool hanging from her lips, crushed eyeglasses and a soda at her feet, and a bookbag to her left.

She was more than "napping" on the train. She was full-fledged passing out, and I don't mean the type of "passing out" you see where it is a homeless person riding the train to stay warm.

This girl was clearly going somewhere, or had begun a trip with those intentions, but now she was just a mess. A train wreck, if you'll excuse the unintended pun. Her hair was a slimy, tangly mess, though her clothes were clean and matching. It was a sad dichotomy to witness—someone whose appearance didn't really seem to match her behavior.

With her eyes closed, mouth hanging agape, she kept nodding into the bar of the seat in front of her, and was just lolling forward, and then back, and the forward again. She was completely out of it, unaware of her body or the stares she was receiving.

My friend and I tried not to stare, but my heart was just breaking for her. She clearly was on serious drugs, but who am I to say what we were witnessing. She was drawing nervous glances or downright glares from everyone on the train, and I just felt saddened by the whole experience.

Evidence sometimes presents itself in a jolting way of the many types of people that comprise this city, the disparate places from where people hail, and the challenges that they face every day.

All I could think, while trying not to stare, was that she was someone's daughter. Someone's sister. Someone's neice.

Where are these people when she clearly needed them so much? I don't pretend to understand the circumstances, but one thing is painfully clear.

My heart still aches for her.

She will be in my prayers tonight, and hopefully she can get help.