It was a chilly autumn evening when Mark missed his usual train home. The station was nearly deserted, with only the flickering lights casting long shadows on the platform. As he waited for the last train, he noticed a figure sitting alone on a nearby bench. The figure was a young woman, dressed in a vintage coat that seemed out of place in the modern world. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, and she stared blankly at the ground, lost in thought.

Feeling a strange pull, Mark approached her. "Are you okay?" he asked, but she didn't respond. Instead, she looked up at him with sad, hollow eyes. There was something about her gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. He felt an overwhelming urge to help her, but he didn't know how.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, the sound of the train's whistle echoed through the station. Mark glanced at the schedule and saw that the last train was approaching. He turned back to the woman, but she hadn't moved. "Come on, we should get on the train," he urged, but she remained silent, her expression unchanged.

When the train pulled into the station, its doors slid open with a hiss. Mark stepped forward, but as he turned to encourage the woman to join him, he was startled to see her standing now, her face pale and ethereal. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the train.

Mark's heart raced. He reached out to her, but before he could touch her, the train doors began to close. He lunged forward, trying to hold them open, but they shut with a finality that echoed in his chest. He watched in horror as the woman stepped onto the train, her figure fading into the shadows of the carriage.

Desperate, Mark pressed his face against the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of her. The train began to move, and he felt a sense of loss wash over him. Just as the train rounded the bend, he saw her one last time, standing by the window, her eyes filled with sorrow. Then, she vanished completely.

The next day, Mark returned to the station, hoping to find answers. He approached the ticket booth and asked the attendant about the woman. The attendant's face paled. "You saw her?" she asked, her voice trembling. "That's impossible. She died in a train accident here years ago. She's been haunting this station ever since, waiting for someone to help her find peace."

Mark felt a chill run down his spine. He realized that the woman had been reaching out for help, trapped in a cycle of longing and despair. Determined to honor her memory, he began researching the accident, piecing together her story. With each detail he uncovered, he felt a connection to her, as if he were helping her find closure.

Finally, after weeks of investigation, Mark held a small memorial at the station, inviting others to remember the lost souls of the past. As he lit a candle in her honor, he felt a gentle breeze brush past him, and for a brief moment, he sensed her presence beside him, no longer sad but filled with gratitude. The last train had come for her, and she was finally free.