Writing Prompt Wednesday #60

Write a short story that takes place on a train. https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/general/write-a-short-story-that-takes-place-on-a-train/
    The fields rushed past my view, a blur of green as the train moved along the land. My vision mixed with tears and I felt myself having to look away.
    As I looked across the cart, I met the eye of a young man. He smiled and I glared at him through my sadness, turning back to the window.
    What was I going to do with myself? I had left everything I knew; how would I survive on my own? The tears burned in my eyes again and I looked down at the floor.

    A pair of shoes came into view, and I looked up. The young man was standing there again. He smiled at me and I glared back at him. He seemed unfazed by it as he asked, “Can I sit here?”
    I didn’t answer, but moved over a few inches. The man sat down next to me, smiling despite my misery. “So, what’s your name?”
`    I sniffed, “Marisha.”
    “Nice to meet you Marisha. I’m Kent,” the man said. Something in his eyes was odd; there was an unusual spark of wisdom there. “So where are you heading to?”
    “Away.”
    “Interesting.” Kent shifted, turning to face me. “Away from what, if I may ask?”
    “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back there.”
    “Whyever not?” Kent asked.
    “Too much pain. It’s not worth my time to deal with.” I crossed my legs and turned away from him, glancing out the window. “I’m going far away from here. Nothing’s going to touch me again.”
“Are you sure running away will fix all of this pain?”
I laughed, but no humor was in the sound. “At this point in time, it’s pretty much the only option I have left.”
“I don’t think so,” Kent said. “I mean, there’s always other options besides what’s facing you directly. Humans always seem to ignore that there’s a different answer glaring at them. You only see what you want to see…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment. “I suggest you do not be so blind as to think running is your only option. It almost never works out well.”
I tried to ignore the odd way he spoke and asked, “Well what are my other options?”
Kent smiled. “That’s for you to figure out.”
The train began to slow as we approached the station. Kent stood up, grabbing the railing on the sides as he did so. “This is my stop,” he said.
“Wait,” I said. “What do you mean? What can I do?”
Kent seemed as if he hadn’t heard me, walking to the doors of the train. He glanced back at me as he stepped off, offering me a friendly smile. “Good luck Marisha,” he said.
I watched as he exited the train. I stood up and ran to the window, searching the crowd for his form. There were countless figures walking around, faces looking around the station or looking down at cell phones. I looked around, but I couldn’t see Kent. He had seemingly disappeared.
I sat back down in my seat, stumped over Kent’s words. I thought about our conversation as the train pulled out of the station and started carrying me away.