There are seven million people all over the city. And two million in the heart of it.
She stood on the steps of the Masjid Jamek LRT station, waiting. Rush hour. Two million hurrying like one malleable mass. She an unmoving speck. The first call came at 5.52pm.
“Where are you, Dee?” she asked, with a certain desperation she never felt before.
“I’m on the train now heading to you. Just left Bukit Jalil. I –”
The line went dead. But five minutes later, another call.
“Dee, what happened? Is it the phone’s battery?”
“No … fine … last night … ten minutes … wait …”
And then it went dead again. She waited. She watched the bustling crowd. Where were they going? Where did they come from? Nobody looked at anybody, not even a glance. Eight minutes later, she received a text message.
“m almst thr. wait 4 me.”
She replied: “ok. wats wit d line? trains nt undergrnd.”
She waited for a reply. It took almost another five whole minutes.
“am up 2 d wat xdfgh mt me dhjkl”
She stared at the screen, feeling something like a million tiny legs creeping up her back. More than 10 minutes had passed. Dee should be here. She entered the station, fighting against the human tide. The escalator was jam-packed; she decided to take the stairs.
She was halfway down the steps when a momentary glance towards the ascending escalator made her stop. Was that Dee? She ran back up the stairs … up … up … rising towards what seemed like eternity. When she reached the top, Dee was nowhere to be found.
She knew she would never see her friend again.