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On the Train
On the Train
You wake up suddenly seated in seat F3, right next to the window. Looking around, you realize you’re on board a moving train, not knowing your destination or even how you got there. Your clothes are all wrinkled and your hair is messy, but you are so confused that you don’t take much notice of this. You get up and open your compartment door and find yourself in a long hallway with dark ends. You walk from one side to another, but this proves to be pointless, as you have no idea what is happening. Out from the darkness, a man walks closer to you whilst eating a sandwich. This makes you feel sick as the thought of something as comforting and pleasuring like food could even spring to mind at such distressing times. Nonetheless, you pull yourself together and try to force a couple of words out of your mouth. “Excuse me? Do you know where I am?” You ask. “Why yes, my dear lad. We’re on our way to Portsmouth.” “Portsmouth?” You ask as it all starts coming back to you. That’s right! You were on your way to Portsmouth to visit your daughter, who has been sick as of late. “You alright there?” The stranger asks. “Sure, I just need to rest a little bit.” You return to your compartment and rest your head on the windowpane. You manage to shut your eyes for a small space of time until an old man barges into your compartment with an angry expression all over his face.
“Unbelievable! You get on a train like any decent bloke and they treat you like some dirt! I get on this train regularly. Twice a week, and they just spend their time withering all the nice passengers!” You listen on as the man bemoans the train service, but it doesn’t interest in the slightest. You shut your eyes off again as the man storms out yelling: “It’s a rip-off! A bloody rip-off I tell ye!” You shut your eyes once more, but this doesn’t last long. A couple of minutes later a skinny looking woman opens the compartment door pushing a trolley down the dark hallway.
“Would you like anything to eat?” She asks. You indicate you’re fine as the woman leaves with a smile on her face. You start thinking about home, about your daughter, what things would be like if she didn’t have to live so far away. Would you be any closer to her? It’s certainly hard to imagine having a close relationship with her at this point. You look through the window and see a profound darkness that covers your thoughts with sadness. You try not to dwell on that for too long and look away elsewhere. Shortly afterwards, the lady with the cart comes back. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.” “I have no interest in seeing anyone on this train.” You answer coldly. “Not even your own daughter?” She asks. You quickly look at her and get up from your seat. You try to keep your cool, but this becomes harder every passing second. “Where is my daughter?” “She is here. Amongst us.” “She can’t be here. She is in Portsmouth. I’m on my way to see her now.” Just as you said that, your daughter steps into the compartment. “It’s okay daddy, I’m fine.” You become paralyzed after seeing all this. You don’t understand what’s happening and start feeling a rush of blood to your head. Your whole body goes numb, as you don’t know how to react to all this. You grab your daughter’s hand and run down to the dark hallway. You see the man with the sandwich again, but he doesn’t pay any attention to you this time. You freak out as your heart beats faster than it ever has.“Finally! I found it!” He yells out. It was the man who was complaining earlier on. You hesitate for a minute and finally find the courage to ask, “Found what?” “The newspaper! It’s all here.” He says as he hands it over to you slowly. “OCTOBER 22nd: TRAIN CRASHES EN ROUTE TO PORTSMOUTH” The date is a week later from the time you boarded the train the same train on the newspaper. You’re death. You think quietly for a minute until you look over to your daughter, who is looking very worried. You look at her for some time until you finally tell her, “C’mon, let’s go get some warm drinks from the nice lady.”
This story was written by Mauricio Rocha.
