The Runaway Train

Have you ever had that feeling of severe loneliness, like you know something is missing from your life but every time you think you are close to figuring out what it is, it slips just out of grasp. That feeling has yet to leave me since I’ve been here.

For that matter, where am I? Who am I? How did I get here?

I massaged my temple, it’s been, what, twelve days now since I’ve woken up on this god forsaken train with my memories left as a jumble of fuzz and the only truth I knew was that since I woke up, my glasses contained a hairline crack in the corner of my left lens and it bugged me.

More irritating than my glasses, there are these people who my brain always tries to pull up for me and I can’t stand it! It’s excruciating because I know that at one point I loved them and they loved me but I can’t remember them at all. But I want to remember.

I need to remember and get off this train. I can’t lose them, I don’t even remember them and I know that.

My breathing became shallow and my throat choked up, my eyes brimming. No, I can’t do this again, the last time I let my emotions overwhelm me the shadows attacked and I left the coal shovel in the other car.

Drawing a deep breath, I let go of all questions about myself, all worry I had over my identity. All that matters is that I’m here now, alive and moderately safe and hopefully it’s the same for them as well.

I’m sure that someone will be able to help me figure out who I am and who they are once we get to the next stop. It’s got to be soon right? It’s only been twelve days since I woke up and if there hasn’t been a stop yet, one should be coming up right? I don’t really remember much but I’m sure I had been on a short train ride at some point, with- just as I was beginning to get a glimpse at their features, they slipped away again.

Oh who are you fooling with that thinking?

So hopeful

So naive

Shoot. I thought I was doing well to not overwhelm myself!

Stumbling down the hall, I threw myself into the next car, snatching the shovel from where it rested against the navy coloured, lightly mold covered wall.

Glancing furiously around me for where the shadows might form this time, I took a defensive stance; feet shoulder width apart, knees bent to keep me low to the ground, elbows close to body as I held the shovel out semi threateningly. Slow breaths.

Darling, please, join us

We are so hungry

And your soul looks so full

So full of pain

And anguish

You’ll never have to feel that suffering anymore, wondering who you are

Where you came from

Who you loved

Who loved you

For all that would matter is that you’d be apart of us, apart of something bigger

Join us on this train and all your problems will disap-

I swung, I might have lost control of my emotions, summoning the shadows, but they also made a mistake, getting so distracted in persuading me, that I was able to find and make contact with them. I don’t remember what shadows were like before, but all I know here is that if I get too overwhelmed they can find me, but if they come too close to me they become solid and I can hurt them.

They clutched their face(s). I can’t tell, I’ve been trying to understand it since day one, the shadows look like multiple people mushed together in a horrifying mutilated shape, all fighting for control, the one thing they seem to agree on is that they want to devour me, for me to join their dark mess.

Long story short, it makes no sense and no matter how much I mull it over, it’s not getting any clearer.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I swing my shovel again, backing them into a dark corner. Another thing I’ve learned: they need to be in light to exist, shadows can’t exist without it.

That means, when backed into another shadow, it loses its form and gets sucked into the rest of the darkness until summoned again.

Strong willed I see

The train did good choosing you

But know this, child

You can’t get rid of me that easily

Their voice held a desperate humor to it, like they were concealing fear, or worry.

Does that mean?

Is it really possible?

Could I actually escape?

You will join us one day

And you will be delicious

“Never!” I screamed, taking good aim and bashing them over the nearest head, knocking them into the darkness where their strangled cry slowly dissipated as I sank to my knees on the maroon carpet covered in splinters. I smashed apart all of the chairs on the train after my first battle when they were getting in the way.

I was safe for now, and I learned something;

I was winning.

Three days have passed now since the last battle and I was still feeling smug from what I learned. The food has yet to run out and so here I sit, sipping back pineapple juice I found at the bar, supposedly for pina coladas, and gnawing on an overly dried chicken I found in the freezer and attempted to cook, using a normal fork and the only knife I could find, a butcher-and-breaking knife which felt too big in my hands for such a shriveled up piece of meat but it served its purpose.

They constantly talked about how they planned to devour me. I know it’s bad to think this but would it hurt? Would I even taste good or would I be as bland as this dry chicken?

I felt like I was winning. I convinced myself I only need to hold out until a station, so I was holding a premature celebration. The only loss I’ve suffered this week was losing my glasses under the train when I tripped when hopping cars.

That's why the chicken was so dry I suppose. I couldn’t remember what to turn the dials to on the oven, and to make things worse, I’ve learned that I’m far sighted and I couldn’t read the dials for guidance so I had to improvise.

If anyone is missing me, they are certainly not missing my skills in the kitchen. I chuckled to myself at that. For a moment, I saw a flash, a faint memory.

I was looking up, the counter was just a bit taller than me in this memory so I could only assume it was from when I was a child. There was a woman there who helped me up onto a stool and stood behind me and helped me rub a chicken down with all of these strong, glorious smelling spices. She then let me carry the pan with the meat to the oven and we sat by it, soaking up the oven's warmth as we watched it cook. I couldn’t see her face.

Giggles bubbled in my chest, how could I forget that? And how did I remember it?

Better question, how do I get it back?

I was doing such a good job holding in my emotions. Through my laugh, I watched my vision blur and a few tear drops hit the counter.

Oh, this pain.

Why is it worse?

I’m laughing.

I’m happy.

I’m remembering.

Dear, it’ll only get worse.

“Stop.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the shadows. You’re winning, you’re winning, you’re winning.

There is only one escape from that pain

Trust me

It also took us awhile to understand

We were once like you

What? That can’t be possible, can it?

Stuck on what we thought was this runaway train to hell

We all were stranded here

Suffering

Alone

But we found out that this train

It’s a gift

A saving grace

It brought us feasts

It brought us you

It wasn’t taking us to hell

But to heaven

It saved us from our misery

And it will save you

No, I’m so close to getting off! I was nowhere near my shovel so I flung my glass of pineapple juice. in my anger I accidentally knocked into the bar, letting a few things fall from the counter top.

Aww, I had been really enjoying my meal. Well, I can always pour a new glass and cook a new chicken. Right now, I needed to fight off the shadows to not be their chicken. I recognized that my mind was stupid in comparing myself to chicken but I really needed that humorous pick me up.

I furiously dried my tears with my sleeve as I missed the shadow with my free hand.

Remember, they become solid the closer they get to me, and the closer they get to me, the blurrier they get.

Thanks to a stroke of luck I managed to land a weak hit, but it still startled them enough that I could slip away and start shutting blinds.

The first one I pulled a bit too harshly and it just rolled back up again. I finally managed to tug it at just the right force, doing the same to the others, dimming the room. I wish I could keep them closed all the time but they never stay shut for long like the train reopens the curtains once I’m gone from a car. Last thing I needed to do was hit the light switch. Sadly, it was on the other side of the room because of course nothing is easy on this godforsaken train.

With a running start, I ducked and slid past the shadows. When I came up I felt a shiver run down my spine releasing my side was sticky from the juice soaked floor. Never mind that, I needed to get to the light.

I was only inches away when a cold fingers wrapped around my right leg, giving a sharp tug. My leg gave out under me and as I was being dragged away I managed to grab hold of the edge of the bar, clinging for dear life.

Then I saw it.

The plate.

I grabbed it and swung down on my leg with my free hand. I had to let go of the bar to swing it down with both hands. I managed to hit it off of me, but I had already winded my arm to land another hit when they let go, freeing me. Sadly, unable to stop myself I smashed the plate down on my leg. I felt both the bone and plate shatter.

Bits of plate stuck out of my leg as I struggled to reach up and hit the lights. I watched as my blood mixed with the pineapple juice in the carpet while they disappeared, the room filling with their shrieks, my eardrums were most likely bleeding after a few seconds. Or were the screams mine? I could hardly tell.

Curling up into a ball, I pressed my hands tightly over my ears, trying to take calming breaths, clearing my mind. We’re almost to a station, we’re almost to a station. I know it’s a bold faced lie at this point, the train hasn’t slowed down once and it’s unlikely it will now but I will do anything to hold on to my last shred of sanity. My leg throbbed as pain shot through my body, I needed to ignore it.

I needed to survive.

Day… whatever… who even cares any more. I think I stopped keeping track after day thirty-five when the pain started to lessen. I’ve grown too accustomed to these navy walls and maroon carpets. I know every tear, every nook, every imperfection on this train now. If I look closely at the carpet, I can see old blood stains, but I can’t tell if they're mine or someone else's.

The blood is most likely mine thanks to my leg. I had splinted it with my shirt and the arm from a broken seat. I don't need a shirt if no one’s going to see me. In addition to the blood from my leg, I had to go through a period on this train and you can tell it was stocked by someone without a uterus because there were no menstruation hygiene products on this wretched train. There's also no shower I’ve found. For the first few weeks I was more worried about not succumbing to the shadows but now it doesn't sound too bad if they have a shower so I can get clean, and wash off any blood that damp towels missed.

There have been more and more battles, which got harder and harder thanks to my broken body, but it’s been quiet for a week now (I think). Time no longer exists for me, it’s either dark out or it’s not, I’m either up and fighting for my life or I’m spending my down time lying in crusted old blood and pineapple juice. Yes, I found more of it and yes, I spilled it during a fight, I don’t know why but I think I love pineapples too much.It seems that the shadows appear even in response to this tiny joy. Which is odd because every other thing that’s made me feel overwhelmed and drawn the shadows has had a faint memory associated. , Pineapple juice is just good, no memories, just good taste.

I hate this train.

The memories that have come back to me haven’t cleared up yet, but I’m numb to them now, along with a lot of things. I’m still blind without my glasses, and am now carrying my shovel around with me everywhere after two fights ago when I misplaced it in my train car; Icouldn’t see it against the dark wood of the siding. I would take the knife but was lost through a window that is now missing a lot of glass. I just hope that wherever it is, it's with my glasses even though they fell like almost a month apart.

As I layed there, not too deep in thought, I slowly felt fingers gently caressing my back.

My eyes widened.

Oh heck no!

You thought you were truly numb?

No one is truly numb to the world around them

I pushed them off of me. “Get away!” My voice was hoarse and raspy. I don’t talk a whole lot while I fight and the only people I talk to are the faceless illusions in the window of the people I’ve long forgotten.

Oh dear

Whatever happened to the beautiful voice of yours?

I would ask about that leg but I’m sure you're tired of me bringing it up

Pity it happened

If you did that to your own leg

I know you'll be your own folly

The shadows started to wrap their arms around me, I’ve never actually directly touched them before I realized other than my leg but I was too frightened to actually process it.

Their arms were merely an echo of warmth, as if they remembered it from some point but couldn’t quite mimic it.

Come swiftly with us love

Your soul will be consumed by the train at some point, might as well be now

That snapped me out of it and I rolled away breaking free of the shadows grasp. Can they just stop trying to eat me already?!

But what they said made me realize that I was never winning. It was a losing game from the minute I woke up on this train.

I was never going to get off this train.

The shadows will never leave me.

The people I care about will never find me.

All of the time I wasted fighting has been in vain.

I was stuck with a choice now, succumb to the shadows or out last them, fight until I inevitably die.

We know what you're thinking

We thought the same

Ask yourself

How much fight do you have left in you?

And

Are you willing to fight that much longer?

I want to keep fighting, I really do, but at some point, one must learn when it's time to lay down their sword, or, in my case shovel.

"I-" I drew a deep breath. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?"

This was the first time I had ever heard them laugh and it filled the room with mocking chuckles.

Nothing

None of us did anything to deserve this

We could spill some sentimental word to make you feel better

But darling

Do you really think the universe cares who you are

Do you think the train cares for that matter

No

You were just an easy target to be grabbed

And you should be grateful that the train to you to be apart of something bigger

Your life had no meaning before other than awful cooking

"So I'm really not special? I'm only here because I was an easy target?"

Honey

No one is special

We were like you thinking we had to be a chosen one

But to be the chosen one, you must choose to be

Nothing is set in stone other than your fate here

So I could have been any old person, but I wasn't.

My eyes brimmed with tears. I wanted to go back home.

But what if they don't want me back? No, I can't think like that, that's what the shadows want. I need to find a way out of here by any means necessary.

"If I could have been anyone, then how about a deal?" My voice was weak, but I was determined to see them again, to regain my memories.

The shadows showed no expression on any of their faces but I could tell they seemed taken aback.

"One last fight. If I lose, I join the shadows. If I win, I get to leave this train forever and go back to my supposedly meaningless life." I know I can't get off on my own. They have to let me go. This is my last shot and I can't afford to blow it. I've beaten them enough times by now, I should be able to win.

Coming to a shaky stand, favoring my injured foot, I held out my hand and they studied it.

Hand to hand combat we suppose

I tightened my grip on the shovel I was currently using as a crutch. "Only if you agree to this."

They accepted my outstretched hand, squeezing it hard enough I was sure my bones would snap.

With no warning, they started dragging me to them.

"Wait! No! This wasn't a part of the agreement!" I pulled back, dropping my shovel as my newly freed hand grabbed my opposite shoulder, trying desperately to keep it from dislocating as I played tug-o-war with my arm. I really don’t want to lose another limb to this monster.

We're only following the agreed guidelines

Hand to hand remember?

Oh you will be delicious

I lost. I crumpled to my knees, hopeless as I dissolved into their shadow, into the darkness.

All I wanted was to go home, meet the people who loved me, cook really bad chicken for them, swap stories, and tell them that the fleeting memories of them were the reasons I escaped.

But I can’t now.

I didn’t escape.

I lost and I will never see them again.

This is it. It’s the end and my story has barely begun.

There was suddenly a severe feeling of loneliness and hunger gurgling in me. I blinked open my eyes. Pain all over my body. I needed to eat. Before me quivered a young boy, another poor target, clutching a familiar shovel. I was so hungry and his soul looked so…

Delicious