The Last Destination

Disclosure: This short may contain sensitive issues. Reader discretion is advised.

I woke up to the sound of my snores, and when my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by a grinning eight-year-old child ready to poke my cheek with a used chopstick. He was wearing a tattered Grim Reaper Halloween costume, his hair was haphazardly combed back which made his cowlick stick up, and dried mud was smeared on his cheek.

“Hi, mister.” The kid said as he picked his nose. After examining what he got out of his nostril, he decided that flicking his snot at another unsuspecting passenger was an excellent idea. The businessman, who had greying temples, and an expensive watch, merely glanced at the kid before he went back to staring out the train’s window. “I’m guessing you have no idea where you are.”

I rubbed my neck and looked around. Air conditioning blasted through the vents, and the cab was brightly lit. Most of the seats were occupied by passengers who were either too tired to care where they were headed, or too preoccupied with the videos on their phones. This was probably the cleanest and most peaceful train cab I have ever been on.

“On a train, obviously,” I responded. I knew that my attitude was unnecessary but the slight fog that settled in my brain made me more irritable than usual. The kid blinked at me as he expertly twirled the used chopstick in his left hand. A part of me was afraid that he was going to lose control of it and it would poke my eye out.

“Well, if you are such smarty pants, do you remember how you got here?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Think about it,” the kid said as he pocketed his chopstick. “You can call me Ronny. I’ll be around when you feel like being kind. Feel free to roam around the train. I’m bored so that’s what I’m gonna do, and you should too.”

“You got an odd name,” I replied and I wanted to kick myself for being a jerk to a child. But then, I did wake up to him about to poke me with a chopstick.

“Well, at least I know my name. Do you know yours?” The kid shouted back as he skipped down the aisle and peeked at the other passengers’ phone screens. None of the passengers seemed to care or notice him. Once he had decided that our cab was not entertaining enough, he exited and went to another.

Odd, I thought. Wouldn’t his mom get worried?

I leaned back in my seat and looked out the window as well, deciding that Ronny’s lack of parents was none of my business. The scenery was bland as tall buildings rushed past us. I did not know how much time had already passed when it finally dawned on me that I had no idea where I was, or where I was heading, and—I began emptying my pockets in search of clues. I was wearing a uniform black vest that had the school’s crest on the right chest, paired with brand-new black pants, a white collared shirt, and a silver tie. Other than an unopened pack of gum and several used tissues in my pockets, I found nothing else that would give away how I got here. Not even a train ticket. My heart thudded against my chest as I brushed my hair back. Based on my outfit, I was a student that was either headed for school or home.

My stomach clenched as I realized that I didn’t even know my name. Filled with unease, I got out of my seat and looked around for any clues that would remind me of who I was. I desperately searched for a school bag that I was not even sure that I own under my seat and on the baggage shelf. However, other than light dust, I came up with nothing. What if Ronny stole it? I thought, even when I didn’t see him with it. Yet, I was too fixated on the imaginary backpack to hear reason. That backpack would have clues about who I was, and once I knew, I would be at peace.

So, I checked every shelf and seat. None of the passengers bothered to acknowledge me even when I invaded their privacy. They either just moved their legs for me or pretended that I did not exist. When I tried to ask an older woman if she saw it, she stared at me with blank eyes and just pointed at the window behind me. Spooked at her reaction, I decided to search for Ronny instead. However, I could feel her glare on my back as I walked toward the exit. My brain kept visualizing how unnaturally grey and sunken her skin was, how yellow her eyes were, and how her hair fell out. She smelled off like she had bathed in chemicals and alcohol. Dark bruises surrounded where her veins would be on her arms, and her nail beds were abnormally dark.

In the door’s reflection, I saw her staring at me with her finger still pointing toward the window. When she got out of her seat to walk toward me, a smile slowly crept up her face. I ran to the other cab and immediately spun around to hold the door shut behind me. However, all I saw in the door’s window were the railroad tracks and the skyscraper buildings we passed by.

What the fu—

“Hey, you.” A woman said as a hand clasped my shoulder. I whipped around with my fists up, prepared to defend myself. The woman with rainbow-dyed hair stepped back and eyed me from head to toe.

“What is the matter with you?” She hissed. She was wearing the same vest as I, but she looked more unkempt and a few years older than I was. Her white collared shirt was untucked and she had Hello Kitty clips on her vest. She had piercing grey eyes, smudged mascara that made her look like a raccoon, and thin chapped lips that were stained with purple lipstick.

“Are you daft?” She quietly asked as I blinked.

“No,” I muttered as I observed the new cab that I was in. It was poorly lit, the floor was sticky, the vents groaned loudly as it sputtered air, empty alcoholic cans rolled across the space, and the guy that was passed out on the seat reeked of urine. There were no other passengers but the three of us. “What is going on?”

She scowled as if my presence had offended her. “I’d like to ask you the same question and keep your voice down.”

“Why?”

The lights flickered as we entered a dark tunnel. She put a finger on her lips, signaling for me to stay silent. Her eyes scanned the space as her posture tensed. When she saw me open my mouth to say something, her hand immediately clamped it shut as she gestured at the man on the seat.

He was still snoring but that didn’t matter to her. Every time the tin cans loudly rolled across the floor, she flinched, as if waking the man was the worse thing that could happen. Even when I did not understand her fear, I kept my mouth shut and carefully followed after her as we trekked toward the next exit. The soles of our shoes kept sticking to the floor and the cab shook as the train sped down the dark tunnel. We held onto the poles for balance and as a guide, for each time the lights flickered in and out.

However, when the lights shut off, one of the tin cans rolled onto our pathway. She accidentally stepped on it and a loud crunch! echoed in the cab.

The snoring stopped.

Panic coursed through her as she froze. When the lights finally came back on, the sleeping man was on his feet and he glowered at her.

“How many times do I have to tell you, child, to keep it down?!” He yelled as her eyes widened with fear.

“I—” she stuttered. “I’m sorry!”

The man grinned widely, flashing his yellow tarred teeth. “Sorry is just not going to cut it, kid.”

When he grabbed his belt and hobbled toward us, my instinct kicked in and I took her hand. “Go! Let’s go!”

Tears streamed down her face as she gripped my hand. We sprinted toward the door but no matter how hard we pushed our legs to go faster, the exit seemed to stretch farther away from us and the hobbling man got closer and closer.

“You have to leave me. I woke him up. It’s my fault,” she sobbed but I shook my head.

“No, I will not! You have to come with me.” I tugged on her hand. However, as soon as she stopped running, the door shifted toward us and slid open—promising safety from the man that hunted us. “See? It’s right there. Just one more step and we’re free.”

She bit down her lip and unclamped one of her clips to put in my hand. “I’m sorry. I promise that I’ll come back for you, okay?”

“What?”

With all the force she could muster, she shoved me back and shut the door between us. Before I could rush back and save her, the cab vanished as the train exited the tunnel. The peaceful cityscape outside no longer existed. Just hills of garbage, grey skies, and death.

I sat on the floor and cried.

Cried for a girl that I barely knew as guilt ate me. Over and over again, I whispered that it should have been me, and I should have stayed. She would have a better chance if I was with her. I stared at the clip she gave me and pocketed it. I wanted to remember her face even when I didn’t know her name.

I failed her, I thought, as I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned on one of the seats. The cold metal against my back was the only thing that grounded me until something damp nudged my arm.

Confused, since I was alone the last time I checked, my eyes fluttered open. A small, brown, lab puppy dropped his leash on me as it rested its head on my knee.

“Oh, hi,” I said as I dried my tears with my sleeves. The dog sighed and blinked slowly at me. Gently, I rubbed the back of his ear. “What’s your name?”

He sneezed at me as he scratched at his collar. It had a heart-shaped pendant that had engraved: I’m Choco. Then at the back, it said: if lost, call Ronald B. at 406-226-8236.

My heart skipped a beat as I re-read the name.

“I’m Ronald,” I said softly and the lab looked at me expectantly. “And you’re Choco.”

He perked up as his tail wagged. Then he left, found a Spiderman backpack from underneath a seat, and happily dragged it back to me. Remembering my first mission, I excitedly unzipped it to find more clues about myself. But I only found a chewed-up ball, a raggedy old teddy bear, a torn-up blanket, and a picture of Ronny, the girl from the previous cab, and Choco the puppy, happily staring at a camera. On the back, a note stated: Wait for me. Xoxo – Cassy.

I hugged him as he licked my cheek. A billion thoughts rushed into my head and none of them made much sense, or perhaps, I was too scared to entertain any of them. When I finally had the energy to stand up, I clipped the leash on his collar and we walked slowly toward the next exit, hoping that I would reach the conductor and ask where we were heading. Choco happily strutted beside me as we ventured to different cabs.

Each time we entered a new one, the previous cab would vanish. Some cabs were cleaner, some were crowded and I had to carry Choco so he would not get stepped on. They were mostly uneventful, unlike the first two cabs I was in, even if the world outside burned. When I couldn’t stomach anymore what I saw outside, I decided to be just like everyone. I reassured myself that since I was inside and the train had made no sign of stopping or slowing down, Choco and I were safe.

Cassy’s face eventually faded from my memories, and not knowing how it was possible, Choco and I aged each time we entered a new cab. I traded my clothes for the cheap suits discarded on the floor but I kept the backpack, along with the clip that Cassy gave me. By the time we reached our seventh cab, Choco could barely walk. I grabbed us a seat and cradled him in my arms. Humming softly, I patted his head and gently spoke about a place where he could run free and play to his heart’s content.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke, Choco was no longer with me.

All I found was his collar on my lap.

It was then I realized that I was alone.

But eventually, the tears ran dry and the desire to leave again and move forward came back. So, slowly, but surely, I got to my feet and I aimlessly exited the cab with Choco’s collar safely put away in the bag.

I couldn’t recall how many cabs I have passed by since everything just seemed to blur together. I may have met some people who had given up their seats to let me rest. I may have met some curious ones who asked about my journey and why I was so fixated on meeting the conductor. For those questions, I gave them vague answers. I also did not know why I wanted to know where I was heading. Maybe, deep down, I just wanted to know when it would all stop.

I was tired of not knowing. I just wanted the trip to end. I wanted to know where our last destination was.

Then I was in danger once more. A small group of men in their late fifties towered over me and blocked my way. They reeked of cologne, their suits were far too expensive for someone who would take the train, they wore watches that screamed wealth, and their hair greyed at their temples.

“Where do you think you’re going, kid?” One of the older men stated and the rest of them laughed like hyenas.

Kid? I thought, as I looked at my wrinkled hands and chipping nails. Callous covered my palms, my joints ached, and my vision was far from perfect. I felt frail and tired. Most definitely, I would no longer call myself a kid.

“Please get out of my way,” I firmly said.

“Get out of the way,” they repeated. Their chuckles boomed as they stole the bag that I have been keeping safe. “Oh lookie? What’s this? Is this precious to you?"

The other passengers looked away from us as they pretended that none of these were happening in front of them.

“Give that back and let me through.”

“No,” one of them said and before I could respond, he kneed my gut. Oxygen escaped my lungs as I toppled over, gasping for breath. The others took it as a cue and they stomped on my torso and legs while I squirmed on the floor. A foot broke my nose and in a desperate attempt to protect myself, I covered my head and left everything else defenseless. Another kick in the stomach and I vomited on their feet. Disgusted by it, they stripped me of my clothes and used them to wipe themselves.

The man who started it, crouched down, and brushed my hair away from my eyes. “Look at you, so lazy—so weak. Just like the others before. You know, none of this would have happened if you fought back.”

A tear escaped from the corner of my eyes as I reached out and begged. “Enough.”

Grabbing my hand, he twisted my wrist until a joint popped out of the socket. I bit down my tongue, afraid that if I screamed, I would incur more of their wrath.

Thus, unsatisfied by my lack of reaction, they decided that they got enough use out of me as they threw my clothes back with a few dollars on top. However, they proudly took my bag with them as their trophy. Stars filled my vision and I knew that they left to look for new victims when I heard the cab door slid open and shut. Hours have passed before I managed to crawl ahead. The other passengers moved away from me as they whispered amongst each other and blamed me for getting myself into this position.

It was my fault for getting beaten up.

It was my fault for not being strong enough.

And maybe, they were right. Maybe if I was strong enough, I would have been able to defend myself. If I was intimidating enough, it would not have happened in the first place.

It was my fault.

Everything was my fault.

I was always a coward. I was afraid of death. I could not help Cassy. I didn’t care if the world burned down. I could not save my dog—and I couldn’t even save myself.

I sighed as I succumbed to the exhaustion that filled me. What was the point of all this, anyway? Why was I so keen to keep moving forward when I was perfectly fine in the first place? Sure, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know why I was here, but that ignorance was peaceful. My lack of knowledge may have disconcerted me but at least I was safe.

Yet if I did, I would have never gotten the chance to at least know my name. I would never have felt anything else. Were those even worth the agony I had to go through?

When I came to, I was in a different cab and there was no one else around me but Ronny who sat cross-legged in front of me. The train had stopped and the only view outside was a bright white space that stretched for eternity. The bruises and the cuts that I incurred vanished.

I no longer ached.

“It’s not your fault, you know?” Ronny said as he offered me his hand. “None of those things that happened was your fault.”

I looked away in shame as I took his small hand in mine. He led the way as we walked toward the conductor’s seat. “So, where would you like to go next, Ronald?”

“I want to go somewhere—anywhere.”

Ronny got on the conductor’s seat and operated the train like he had been doing it for many years. “Why don’t you join me for a while, then? Many have been waiting for this train to arrive, and they’re going to need someone like you to guide them.”

“But I’m just me,” I argued weakly as the train hummed to life.

“And you are more than enough,” he replied as the train moved even without the tracks. “You always have been, Ronald.”

I sat on the small seat beside him as we traversed through the white space until we entered a dark tunnel. Neither of us said another word. Eventually, the train slowed at the terminal which was dimly lit and dirty. Yellow stains painted the walls and water pooled on the floor. A child with a Grim Reaper Halloween costume sat in the middle of the floor sobbing as he held the spiderman bag close to his chest. A brown lab pup sat beside him and whined, pawing at his knee. There was a torn-up stained mattress discarded on the corner, and flies swarmed at the litter beside it.

My head snapped back at Ronny, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, a post-it note was left on the seat that asked: Where would you like to go next, Ronald?

Finally unable to ignore the crying kid outside, I opened the doors. “Hey kid, you okay?”

The kid shook his head as he wiped away his snot. “No. Cassy said to stay put and she’ll come back for us. But she never came back.”

“Who’s Cassy?”

He gripped his bag tighter. “My sister.”

“I see,” I said as I crouched down at the doors. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s your name?”

His brows furrowed as he thought deeply. “Ronald. But my friends call me Ronny. How about you, mister?”

I gave him a weak smile. “Nice to meet you, Ronny. My name is Ronald, as well. Would you like to go somewhere safer than here?”

The kid nodded as he picked up the lab in his arms and got on the train.

“This is Choco. He can come with us too, right?” He asked quietly as I patted his head. “Of course, he can.”

Satisfied with my answer, he sat in my old seat as I confidently took control of the train. After what felt like an eternity, we finally got out of the dark tunnel, and we both watched the sunrise paint the sky with streaks of gold and pink.

Where would you like to go next, Ronald? The question repeated in my head. This time, I knew my answer.

Note from me:

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