At first, my senior coworkers and my boss were nice to me as a newbie, but as they gradually started getting stricter, I began browsing job sites on my phone, thinking about switching jobs. That day, exhausted from working overtime the night before, I was overcome by sleepiness. Standing on the train, I leaned my weight against the overhead strap, half-asleep and nodding off. Then the train jolted—not quite a slam on the brakes, but enough to make me awkwardly sway every which way. The surrounding passengers started making a commotion, so I figured something had happened, and right after that, an announcement came over the speakers saying there had been a collision, making everyone get that "oh..." look on their face.

Well, more than half of them had annoyed, exasperated expressions, but secretly I was thrilled because it gave me an excuse to be late for work, granting me a momentary breather.

Of course, arriving a few hours late meant getting chewed out by my boss the moment I showed up, but that kind of unreasonable scolding was a daily occurrence anyway, so I just dodged it noncommittally.

On my way home that night, I felt lucky that overtime ended after only three hours, so I grabbed a quick drink with a coworker at a nearby izakaya before heading to the station. The second I stepped onto the platform, though, I felt a strange chill. Even though the platform was swarming with a sea of people given the time, I was hit with an indescribable sensation—like someone was staring right at me—making me look around in alarm. But I couldn't figure out where the feeling was coming from.

So, when the train arrived, I boarded normally and left the station. As the station pulled away into the distance, I caught sight of a lone figure standing stranded on the platform. Noticing it, I glanced over casually—it was probably a woman—and from under hair that covered her entire face, she lifted a pale face and looked right at me.

My heart skipped a beat for a second, and I immediately looked away. Not the kind of flutter you feel when falling in love, but the jumpy shock of sheer, mysterious terror. Given the time of night, women who drink too much and throw up usually look pale like that, but this was a lifeless, ghastly pallor that scared me even more. It's not that I don't believe in ghosts, but I'm really bad with paranormal TV shows and that kind of stuff, so I tried not to overthink it, wanting to forget about the woman I'd just seen as soon as possible.

Maybe because of that effort, I didn't see that woman on the platform for about three days. Just as I was letting my guard down, thinking she really had been just some passed-out drunk woman, I spotted her on the platform on my way home, and a chill instantly swept through my whole body.

Since I was sober that day, I knew she wasn't a hallucination from being drunk, but seeing her so clearly also made me think she might just be a weird drunk woman. Not wanting to get involved, I kept my distance and decided to board a different car than usual.

As the train pulled out and I watched the platform drift by through the window, she was the only one who didn't board, standing still on the platform and watching the train leave with a resentful look.

But then she jerked her head up, and the right side of her forehead was caved in—unnaturally missing, as if gouged out. I couldn't help letting out a small gasp: "Whoa!" On top of that, even though there hadn't seemed to be any blood a moment before, as soon as she raised her head, blood—or rather, a thick, goopy mess like melted meat—sloughed down from the crater like melted cheese. The sight triggered an instant surge of nausea, and with a gag, I clutched my mouth and doubled over.

Because of that, the surrounding passengers panicked slightly, thinking I was about to vomit, and backed away from me. Under their cold glares, I felt terrible and quickly moved to another car to escape, barely holding it in until I reached my home station. Once there, I sprinted straight to the station restroom and threw up, though.

Having seen what looked like a ghost for the first time in the two years I'd been using that station, I talked to A, my coworker from the same hiring year, about what I experienced the next day. My goal was just to relieve my anxiety by talking about it, but A listened surprisingly seriously, which lifted a bigger weight off my shoulders than I expected.

"Could it be from exhaustion? Man, you're working way too hard. Take some paid time off and get a real rest."

A suspected I might have hallucinated out of sheer fatigue and recommended taking time off. Coming from a toxic workplace that had become my normal, the possibility of hallucinating from exhaustion hadn't even crossed my mind, so it was quite a shock.

He also recommended seeing an internist, but since I hate hospitals, I said I'd try catching up on sleep first to see if that fixed it, laughing as I told A that if that didn't work, I'd get a doctor to check if I'd gone crazy. He just gave me an exasperated look.

Following A's advice, I somehow managed to beg my boss for a single day of paid leave and enjoyed a relaxing day off for the first time in ages. I spent the day lounging on the sofa watching TV, taking occasional naps, eating when I woke up, and taking a stroll around the neighborhood while running errands. Thanks to that, my body felt refreshed the next day, though I felt gloomy about going back to work; still, I definitely felt recharged to some extent.

However, during that commute, while I was standing in line on the platform as usual, the incident happened.

I was absentmindedly staring up at the electronic display when, after the train arrival announcement, I suddenly felt the impact of someone bumping into my back and shoulder. I lurched forward, taking several quick steps to keep from falling flat on my face. At that moment, another surge of anger welled up inside me—Why are people crowding the line when the train hasn't even stopped yet?—but the moment the tracks appeared right beneath my eyes, the blood drained from my face.

"Oh shit, if I fall now while the train's coming, I'll die," flashed through my mind, but physically, I couldn't stop myself.

Fortunately, a few people in line who noticed me about to fall onto the tracks instantly grabbed my clothes and yanked me backward, causing me to land hard on my butt inside the yellow line.

I was saved.

As I sat there with my mouth agape, several people around me yelled things like, "That was close!" or asked, "Are you okay?" but I could only stare up at them in dazed shock, as if it were happening to someone else. Once I snapped back to my senses, I bowed my head as hard as I could to the people who had saved and worried about me, stammering, "Th-thank you so much." Station staff who caught wind of the situation came rushing over to ask what happened. I ended up having to take the next train, but I felt a small sense of relief that I didn't have to ride with the passengers who knew about the commotion. It would've been awkward.

Forced to wait for the next train, I sat on a bench and wondered who on earth had pushed me. I didn't tell the station staff. Or rather, I couldn't. During the quick questioning, a few people nearby testified that I had suddenly lost my balance and hopped forward. To bystanders, it looked like I had stumbled forward on my own, as if trying to jump in front of the train. In that situation, if I alone claimed that "someone pushed me from behind," I knew they'd look at me suspiciously, so I kept quiet.

Later, I realized that if someone had actually pushed me, I should have said so then, but being shy and terrible at speaking up in front of people, I probably couldn't have done it anyway.

When I told A about this during a break at work, he got genuinely mad at me: "Dude, you should've said something!" But taking into account that I'd been talking about seeing a ghost for the past few days, he also muttered that it was hard to say for sure, since it might be mental paranoia. Hearing A say that made me a bit sad, thinking he thought I was going crazy, but when he added, "Maybe you should go to a doctor once?" with genuine concern, I realized my worries were unfounded.

I saw a ghost. I had no idea what kind of hospital to go to for symptoms like this, so in the end, I didn't go anywhere.

Even so, after that day, nothing unusual happened. I stopped seeing the woman's ghost, and nobody pushed me. Work was still tough with endless overtime, but perhaps because my anxiety over the ghost incident had faded, I actually had some energy left to spare.

It was about two weeks after that incident on the platform. That day, my work wouldn't end, and after my regular overtime, I stayed late doing unpaid extra work all by myself. Realizing it was almost time for the last train, I rushed out of the office. Not yet conditioned into a full-blown corporate slave willing to sleep at the office, I sprinted to catch the last train and huffed for air the moment I stepped inside the car. Noticing the gazes of other passengers, I raised my head, only to realize that for some reason, I was the only one in the car.

Even if it was the last train, the station was near a downtown entertainment district, so there should have been a decent number of commuters. Puzzled, I peeked through the glass into the adjacent car. Seeing one or two passengers sitting alone here and there, I convinced myself that it was just an unusually quiet night and took a seat.

Deciding to relax and enjoy the luxury of having an entire car to myself, I looked out at the night scenery reflected beyond the front glass and decided to take a nap until my stop.

But just as my consciousness began to drift, I felt an overpowering gaze that made me so uncomfortable I opened my eyes. We must have entered a subway tunnel because it was pitch black outside, making the inside of the car clearly visible in the glass reflection. Reflected in the glass across from me was myself staring back—and lined up right beside my seat was a row of people sitting together. They were all staring at me too.

Drowsy just a second before, my brain jolted awake and I practically leaped out of my seat. I spun around to look at the bench, but no one was there. Of course not. I was the only person in this car.

To check again, I looked back at the glass across from me, but the train had already emerged back above ground, and the night view stretched out beyond the pane.

The moment the train arrived at my station, I bolted out of the car and sprinted through the ticket gates.

Thinking my mind had finally snapped, I called A on my way home and explained what happened.

A said, "Seriously? That's bad. Forget a doctor, shouldn't you get an exorcism?" As soon as I got home, I searched online for nearby temples or shrines that performed exorcisms. Thinking no one would answer if I called at this hour anyway, I decided to call the next afternoon, saved the list of temples in my notes app, and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Tomorrow, I'll call the temple, and if they agree to do an exorcism, I'll confirm a date and request a day off, I thought anxiously as I left the house. I was honestly mentally drained. If this wasn't a paranormal phenomenon, I'd finally have to admit myself to a doctor—the thought was depressing.

Arriving at the station, I stood waiting for the train as usual, mindlessly staring up at the departure board. Train comes in a few minutes... As I watched my surroundings with a blank, stupid look on my face, a person dressed like a high school girl caught my eye as she stumbled along the platform. She was staggering terribly, swaying as if dead drunk.

Standing out to anyone on the platform, the high school girl gradually walked toward the edge of the tracks as if drawn to them.

No—she was clearly heading straight for the tracks.

Is she going to jump? As that thought crossed my mind, I swallowed down my frantically racing heart and looked around for help. But even though a high school girl was strangely ignoring the line and approaching the tracks, the other commuters just waited silently for the train, paying her no mind at all.

Something was wrong. Even thinking that, to me it looked like she was about to throw herself onto the tracks, and I instinctively bolted out of line.

"Look out!"

The moment I yelled, the high school girl turned around. My heart froze when I saw her face. It was like a crushed hamburger patty—there was no trace of eyes, nose, or any facial features. I tried to pull back the hand I had reached out while running, but the moment she turned, she grabbed my arm.

Instantly, an immense force yanked my body forward.

I remember the surrounding area going into chaos right then. Shouts echoed, and my body was violently pulled back onto the platform, sending me crashing hard onto the ground.

Then, a bunch of older guys I didn't know started yelling at me furiously.

Apparently, the older guys had managed to grab me at the very last second as I was about to jump in front of the train, and the train rushed past right after they pulled me back.

When I tried to explain in confusion, "No, I was trying to save someone...", they blasted me, telling me not to try committing suicide. And no matter where I looked, the high school girl who had been gripping my arm just a second ago was nowhere to be found.

Feeling it was completely unfair to be yelled at when I had jumped out to save a girl, I apologized to the older guys with all my might. But as the platform grew increasingly chaotic, the guys gradually started looking around, wondering, "What's going on?" As I sat kneeling on the floor watching, an announcement came over the speakers reporting a fatal train accident.

In fact, right after those guys saved me, an accident had occurred.

I learned from the newspaper days later that the victim was a young office worker. He had been hit by the very train that would have killed me if I'd been a second too late. According to eyewitnesses, he had suddenly jumped onto the tracks while uttering pathetic, flustered cries like "W-w-wait..."

When I learned that, I went pale.

Because up until that moment, I had been about to get dragged under the train by a high school girl who grabbed my arm. Maybe that man had seen something too, and got pulled in by something. Realizing that made it feel way too personal.

I was lucky those guys saved me, but the thought of what would've happened if I'd been alone makes my blood run cold. I have an appointment booked at a temple that agreed to do an exorcism, but I'm starting to worry if it'll actually work. Plus, I can't shake the anxiety of whether I'll even survive until then.

There are two days left until the exorcism. Until then, I'm avoiding trains and taking taxis, though the expense hurts. But safety comes first, and I just want to get the exorcism over with so I can finally breathe easy.