Conscious Traveler

The rumbling of the tracks rattles the windows, yet the large man next to me doesn’t stir. I knew this was going to be a long ride, but no one mentioned how much of a tight squeeze it would be. After being kneed by the large man for the millionth time, I shove him over. He tips like a rag doll but doesn’t budge from his slumber.

With a sigh, I climb to my knees and peek over the back of my seat. A train car full of people and I’m the only one awake. I flop back down and take a second look at the man next to me. He remains in that same hunched-over position I shoved him into. I give him a shake, but he still doesn’t move. No part of his body is moving. I hold my hand up to his mouth and nose but feel nothing. My heart jumps in my throat as the realization sets in; He’s not breathing.

I hop back on my knees and eye the other passengers again. Besides the occasional sway from the movement of the train, they’re all lifelessly still. I shoot out of my seat and squeeze past my deceased neighbor into the aisle. The train rocks, knocking me into the lap of a small child. Her long blond hair falls into my face, but she remains lifeless just like the others. I force myself back up, using the back of the seats to steady myself. As quickly as I can, I stumble over to the closest door at the front of the train car. Even with the help of the train sways, the door doesn’t budge. I rush to the door at the back of the car only to have the same issue. Unsure what else to do, I try to shout for help, but the words don’t come out. I grip my throat and attempt to scream, only to be met with a silent release of air from my lungs.

I slam my hands against the door hard enough to send a shock to my shoulders. Hearing no response, I sink to the floor. I must be dreaming. There’s no other explanation. I begin smacking my cheeks. Lightly at first, but as the sound of my own heart grows in my ears, I feel myself getting more aggressive. Perhaps it needs to be hard enough to physically knock me awake? I clench my fist and brace myself.

Before I’m able to give myself this blow, something holds my arm back. My eyes shoot open and are met with a freckled face looking back at me. Her green eyes scan me slowly. She hands me a white cloth and taps the tip of her nose. I follow her lead and bring the cloth up. I must have been hitting myself pretty hard, the cloth comes back with a small red patch. The girl adjusts into a crisscross position and pulls out a palm-sized black notebook. Before I have time to process what’s happening, she’s putting the little book open in my free hand.

Hi Emily, is all that’s written on this small page. I glance at her pale face before returning my eyes to the notebook. How could this girl know my name? I didn’t even give my real name when I bought my ticket. As if reading my mind, she hands me a small black pen and in turn, I give back her cloth.

How do you know my name? I scribble onto the page before handing back the little book. The girl smiles at the page as she writes. The message she responds with isn’t exactly an answer, however, just a name; Rodney. A wet drop hits the page before I have the chance to register who’s shes talking about. I lay my head back against the door and close my eyes. I can’t stop the memories from coming forward. The way his curly brown hair bounced as we ran up and down the dirt driveway of our family home. How his light blue eyes matched the color of the sky the day our father took us to the lake for the first time. His contagious smile and heartwarming laugh. I take a deep breath in an attempt to pull my tears back in, wiping away the moisture from my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I see the girl staring at me, her head cocked slightly to the side.

How do you know my brother? I scribble onto a fresh page and hand it back to her. She takes the notebook but doesn’t spare it a glance before reaching up and running her pointer finger along my cheek. Her eyebrows shoot up as she brings her finger to her face, examining the liquid. Before I have a chance to stop her, she sticks her finger in her mouth and gives me a weird look. I try to hide the disgust from my face, but I’ve never been good at masking my facial expressions. Rodney and I have that in common.

She breaks away from her fascination over my tears and begins writing again. She seems more unsure of what to say this time. Scribbling over her last attempt and starting again.

He was here once too. I squint trying to read the sentence she scribbled over, but the only words I’m able to make out are this place.

In hopes to get her to say more, I write, What is this place? This question makes her drop her smile and lock eyes with me. I nod encouragingly, but this doesn’t seem to ease whatever worry is going through her head. She gives her head a little shake before dropping her eyes back to the notebook. After a few moments and a large sigh, she hands it back.

Limbo. This train transports the dead. I raise an eyebrow and look around the train. While I don’t want to believe it, it would explain the other unresponsive passengers. Would also explain how she knew Rodney. A train taking the dead to wherever they’re supposed to go though? Or maybe she’s behind this. Maybe this is all her doing. Maybe the fact she knew Rodney is the reason I’m the only person still alive. Sensing my unease, she places her hand on mine and shakes her head before taking back the notebook. She quickly scribbles, passing it back.

I know it sounds ridiculous. She wrote right under her last answer. I read both over and over again trying to pull some other logical answer from her words. My eyes land on a young boy seated a little ways from us. His head is resting uncomfortably on his own shoulder. The woman right behind him has her arms freely dangling off to the side of the seat, hunched over as if her body couldn’t stand the swaying of the train.

Can you prove it? I write it out and pass it back to her. At first, she seems almost excited about the question, but quickly simmers down and starts biting her lip as she writes.

Rodney is your older brother. He killed himself during a birthday party at the lake your Dad used to take you guys to during the summer. I read this information slowly, unable to fight the shiver the memory brings. She’s right, but all of this information can easily be found on the police report.

I quickly write that’s all public information, and pass it back to her. She begins biting her lip again, but after only a few moments she starts writing. From here I can tell this answer is going to be a longer one than anything she’s written so far. She tucks a chuck of her red locks behind her ear before passing it back.

Rodney left you a note under the floorboard in your bedroom. It was the only note he left and he left it for you. It said that he loved you and didn’t want you to think you had any part in his death. He admits that you’re the reason he stayed alive as long as he did. He loved you, Emily. My vision blurs and I just allow the tears to fall. I dig in my front pockets to find a small folded piece of paper. The paper I found under my floorboard that day. I always kept it on me but never allowed anyone else to know about its existence. It’s the only piece I have of him left. I unfold it and skim the page.

Emily,

I hope one day u can forgive me. I can’t handle this world anymore. Dad was right, I lack the fire it takes to make it here. Please don’t think this is ur fault. Its not. Your the only reason I made it as long as I did. I love you, Emily. If theres something after this life, know I will be watching over u.

Rodney

I pass the note to the girl. Before taking it, she gives my shaky hands a light squeeze. Her eyebrows pull together as she reads the note. We make eye contact for a second and she pulls me into her arms. I feel the weight of her, but the hug lacks the heat you’d expect from a hug. She pulls away and places the note neatly folded into my hands.

How did you and Rodney meet? I write before passing the notebook back to her. She rubs her hand against my wet cheeks again, still fascinated by my tears. It didn’t take her long to pass the notebook back.

The same way I’m meeting you today. That was all I needed. The realization of my current situation crashes into me like a wall. But how?

I’m dead? I scribble, but the two words are barely legible due to my shaking hands. She takes the notebook and gives me a sad look before nodding. I try to use the wall to stand, but the room begins to spin. The girl pulls me back down by my sleeve and begins writing.

Everyone on this train is dead. Even me. I glance at the girl and the young boy sitting down the aisle.

Why are we the only ones awake? I pass it back to her, pulling my legs up to my chest. If I’m dead, why can’t I remember how I died? Why do I remember getting on this train with the idea that this journey would change my life? Was it a way for whatever god there is to keep the dead calm?

I couldn’t tell you for sure, but Rodney and I came up with a theory. We think those who kill themselves stay conscious during the journey beyond. Everyone else died in ways out of their control. We have no way of asking the others, but both Rodney and I.. Rodney said the guy before him did too.

All this answer did was create more questions. I flip through the pages, relief washes over me seeing that there are so many pages left. Rodney was here before she was. So, where’s Rodney now? Where’s the guy that was here before Rodney?

But I don’t remember how I died. Where’s Rodney now? I write, passing it back. This question pulls her eyebrows together. She taps the pen against her cheek a few times before attempting her response. I watch her face carefully as she seems to be jumping from one emotion to the other.

There’s always one and the one who’s been here the longest leaves first. That’s all I know. If you think about your last moments hard enough, you’ll remember bits and pieces from your death. We make eye contact again and she closes her eyes, encouraging me to do the same. I close my eyes and lay my head back against the door. Rodney is the only thing I’m able to see. Running to the lake with the biggest smile on his face. I feel my own smile followed by a tap on my knee. I reopen my eyes to the girl shaking her finger. She holds the notebook up and the word focus in big black bold letters fills the page. I nod and close my eyes again. This time keeping my head off the door.

At first, all I can see are the normal flashes of color behind my eyelids, but they quickly get replaced with memory flashes. Flashes of blood on the ground, blood on my hands, and a knife lying off to the side. I will the memories to come forward, and a flash of my own wrists comes into view. I feel a gasp escape my mouth, but I’m unable to make the images stop. My body begins to shake, but it’s no longer the memories taking over, it’s the girl bringing me back. I shake her hands off my shoulders. Her lips form into a straight line as she watches me regain my composure. I give her a small nod reassuring her that I’m alright and she hands me back the open notebook.

What did you see? Another flash of blood crosses my mind and I shake the memories away again.

I think the theory’s right. I write before passing the notebook back to her.

Rodney would be sad to see you here so soon after.

Rodney lost his right to be upset about anything I’ve ever done or will do the day he left. She nods at that, giving me a sad glance. I lay my head back against the door. Before I can protest, she scoots next to me and rests her own head on my shoulder. I let out a heavy sigh. Rodney always believed there was more to this existence than what we had on Earth. He believed that all of the pain we had to go through so young was preparing us for something more. Something better. I adjust myself enough to write in the book without disturbing the girl laying on me.

What’s your name? I write, passing it to her. She smiles and takes the book happily.

Dani. Short for Danielle. I return her a smile. I wanted to name my future daughter Danielle. Oddly perfect. She scoots over a bit and starts writing on a new page before handing the book back. It’s almost my stop.

Already? What am I supposed to do without you? She reads it quickly and gives me a small side hug.

Help another conscious soul feel less alone. As I read the last word, the train horn goes off causing me to jump. This makes Dani smile as she drags me to my feet. Bright light fills the train enveloping all of the unconscious passengers. Dani pulls me in for a hug as the door at the front of the car slides open. I pull out the notebook quickly, writing as fast as I could.

Please tell Rodney I love him. She gives me a nod and hugs me again. Tighter this time. After writing something, she passes the notebook back and heads to the door. As she exits, a familiar face peeks through the doorway. Rodney. He eyes me up and down before his sad eyes meet mine. I sprint in his direction, tears blinding me. He wraps his arms around me lightly before placing his hands on my shoulders. You can see the emotions flashing across his face. Bouncing between happiness, sadness, disappointment, and confusion. All I want to do is talk to him. Tell him how much I love him, but nothing comes out. He places a hand on my cheeks as tears fall from his eyes.

Dani appears behind him, holding out her hand. He nods at her before placing a light kiss on my cheek. Together, they disappear into the light along with the other passengers. Unsure what else to do, I sit in the closest seat in the now empty train car and check out what Dani had written before she left.

See you again soon my friend