Keegan Tate didn't wake up that morning thinking she was going to be any type of hero. She'd long ago resigned herself to the fact that her life was going to be boring in a comfortable kind of way. And that was fine, she wasn't the kind of person who needed drama to thrive. Keegan was happy to sit back and take notes while the rest of the world slowly changed around her.

The cracker crunched against her teeth as she walked down the winding culdesac that led off her road. Food wasn't something that Keegan loved. She ate simply because she had to, not because she particularly wanted to which was ironic in its own way as her father owned a chain of restaurants. She walked at a slant so not to expose the ladder in her tights, she'd been meaning to get new ones but hadn't had the time between the piles of homework she'd been given.

Though Keegan would never admit it to her parents, she wasn't a complainer, Alberta Girls School wasn't the type of place she'd imagined it to be. Books had made her imagine a more picturesque building full of friendly girls who would welcome her with open arms. Reality had been stony walls and stony faces from girls who looked like they'd stepped out of Teen Vogue Magazine.

Looks were fickle, she knew that. If she could view herself from another persons point of view Keegan knew what she'd see, the Tate family were attractive enough but they greatly lacked in charisma and Keegan was no exception. Her Father may have been able to whip up a three-course meal in under an hour but while his food held flavour his conversation would easily send you to sleep. She wanted to be different, the one who stood out in the family and for a while, she had tried, purposely making decisions that would be the opposite of what her straight-laced parents would want.

It had resulted in a disastrous hair bleaching incident after which the fight went out of her, she would be who she was always meant to be and would wear a smile on her face as she did. There wasn't really much choice.

Keegan kept her gaze focused as she walked through the busy high street. Early morning was a strange time especially in winter, people looked like they weren't quite sure if they were still asleep or not, clutching at coffee cups like they were the only thing keeping them going, she'd never been fond of coffee herself, no amount of sugar and milk could mask the bitter aftertaste and she already experience that from her own life, she didn't need a caffeinated drink reminding her of it.

Another reason why Keegan's school wasn't exactly ideal was the fact that it was twenty-five minutes away by train meaning to get there on time she had to catch the seven a.m train to Knightsbridge, but she didn't ever complain. The train station was a building made of red brick and there was the usual bustle there was every morning, she bought a packet of gum from the Asian shopkeeper who's name she had never asked and began chewing intensely, that would be her entertainment for the ride. 

Checking her phone she saw one email from her bank reminding her that there terms and conditions were changing in a month, she deleted it and then turned off her phone, right now it would be of no use to her, she took out her notebook instead. Even before she stepped onto the carriage Keegan knew who she would see, these were the regulars like her who always got into the same carriage each and every morning, four in total.

First, there was skater boy, she knew the name was unoriginal but at the time she had thought of it immediately, he seemed to have a wardrobe that consisted solely of black and had an eyebrow piercing which glinted everytime they passed a streetlight. He was always in another world and she wouldn't have dared to try and bring him out of it. There was an unmistakably cool aura about him, people like that didn't talk to people like her, his name was Brandon, he got off a stop before her. Next were Ted and Carol, a middle-aged couple who seemed to speak only about their dog, Paula. Keegan had scrunched up her nose at that name, it didn't seem fitting for a dog, they were married but from what she'd gathered they had no kids, or if they did she felt sorry for them, they didn't get a look in, not when Paula was around.

The most strange companion on her train journeys was a dark-skinned beautiful woman who wore different silk turbans each day, Keegan didn't know when she got off the train, or what her profession was, she never took out her phone or spoke to anyone else, she simply stared out of the window as the world rushed by. She wanted to reach out to her and find out anything about her, Keegan had only been making this journey for a year but most days she tried to come up with a name for her, she'd settled on Jamila and wasn't quite sure why.

Albert was the most open of the passengers, he boarded the train with a smile on his face, smelled of toffees and read the newspaper back to back, he often smiled at Keegan and she knew if she talked to him, he would be glad. She didn't know what stopped her, but at the same time knew all too well, she wasn't someone who outright sought out conversation writing in a notebook was easier than formulating sentences, keeping people's interest.

She was on the platform, the notice board read that her train was approaching, Keegan stepped behind the yellow line, her Father had told her about the perils of standing too near an incoming train. When it had slowed, she put forward her sensibly clad foot and stepped into the bright light. Jamila was sitting at the end of the carriage, skater boy had one chunky boot resting on the door, he moved out of the way for her without a word. Keegan was about to take her usual seat when she saw the one thing that made today different.

On her seat there was a paper napkin folded perfectly in half, she would have picked it up and thought to chuck it away later had it not been for the clear signs that this particular napkin had been written on. There were many reasons why people wrote on napkins, it could have been the first thing the person had on them and they'd remembered something important for later, she was never one to intrude on others privacy, but then, she thought if it had been so important would they have left it on a train?

She hadn't realised she'd stopped still almost in wonder until the train began moving and she was pushed forward with the force, she stumbled and hit her knee on the rail. Against her better judgement she picked up the napkin and took her seat, feeling a blush rise on her cheeks, everyone on the train was probably silently picking her actions apart, she looked up, not on a pair of eyes were turned her way, they were all caught up in their own lives.

Keegan loved mysteries, she loved anything that made monotonous life seem that bit more interesting and they were certainly something which did that, so she gingerly opened the napkin feeling her heart race at an abnormal pace as she did. 

The writing was slanted, the person who had written it was clearly in a rush, but the ink didn't look like it had been sitting on it for very long otherwise it would have seeped through, she studied the words:

Dear Reader,

I don't know you and you certainly don't know me, but I once read something that said the kindness of strangers can be the most surprising of things. So here I go, making my final bid for life, you might think this a strange way to do it, this napkin is made of paper, as breakable as anything, this could be tossed aside, scrunched up and forgotten about. Truthfully, I'm kind of hoping that this is what will happen, I don't feel like I want to survive this, but then again if I truly wanted to leave would I have written this? You answer that for me. I'm not a crazy person, I know, I know, crazy people would never admit what they are. But I'm a person who seems to have reached the end, not to be dramatic but there really isn't anything left to live for, have you ever lived day after day just because you felt a duty to rather than because you actually wanted to do things each and everyday?

So there it is, all set out. I've checked the laws extensively, nobody else knows I've written this letter, you can forget you ever read it and you're covered, but if you want to find me call the number below.

Her heart constricted, what the hell had she just gotten herself into? It wasn't stated clearly in this letter but whoever this person was they were clearly thinking of ending their own  life.

She felt as if the words directly spoke to her, though she knew it was crazy. Keegan didn't ever do anything reckless but looking at her reflection on the glass window suddenly she didn't want to be predictable or good. Here she sat in her too long school skirt, with her curly hair tied sensibly back and her shoes polished so hard that they gleamed. She didn't want to be this person because this person was a coward who would pretend they'd never read the napkin. She wanted to be the type of person who called the number of a desperate person who had written their final plea on a napkin praying someone could hear.

The train slowed at the next station, Blackfriars, she had never gotten off at this stop, but before she could stop herself she was on her feet and had walked right out. Her heart was pounding with exhilaration, she wasn't following the rules anymore. Keegan took out her phone and dialled the number on the napkin she was clutching tightly in her hand.