A Riders Life

Eleanor gasped as she woke up. Her mind struggling to gather awareness. Her eyes closed, and too scared to open them, she can already sense she is somewhere unfamiliar. She feels around the floor, as she lays paralyzed. She takes a sharp inhale of breath, “ouch!” Eleanor cuts her hand on a piece of glass. She feels some liquid creeping toward her pants. She tries to open her eyes, but everything is fuzzy. Her head pounding, she manages to sit up.

As she begins to become conscience, she feels vibrations on the ground before she hears anything. She realizes, the vibrations are footsteps.

Panic sets in, she jumps up and rubs her eyes until they become clear enough to make out her surroundings. There is a man in the distance wearing a suit.. “A suit? Where the heck am I?” Eleanor looks down to take stock of her attire. “I am definitely underdressed.” As he gets closer, the gentlemen in the suit introduces himself as Sam.

“Where am I?” She asks, “A train, Eleanor.” Sam replies, as if he was of any help. “What is the last thing you remember miss?” “I honestly don’t know. I think I might be in shock.” She continues, “Why is this train empty, am I being kidnapped or something?” Sam laughs, and reassures her that she is free to leave at anytime. Eleanor dumbfounded, seeing as this train seems to be going faster than any train she’s been on before. Not to mention she is the only passenger on this train to no where, that is in a hurry to get there.

Sam asks again, “Eleanor what is the last thing you remember?” “Like I said, I don’t remember.” He tells her to look at her feet. She sees a burgundy stain with dark glass shards scattered around it.

It hits her. “Oh my God, am I dead? I thought heaven would at least be first class.” Eleanor smirks, but Sam doesn’t laugh. “okay, wrong crowd I guess” Sam goes on, unfazed by her flippancy. “So you do remember what was happening before you got here?”

“Let me off. Where are we even heading?” “ Like I said miss, If you want to get off you are free to do so, but you won’t be able to get back on.”

“But how? Do you see any doors?”

“So you remember what was happening before you woke up here… Tell me about it.” “No thanks Sam, I think i’ll pass.” Sam, bypasses her disregard. “Listen, there is no judgement here. We have all been there.”

“Oh you have, have you?” Eleanor is becoming more agitated by his line of questioning. “I am not falling for this. Would you please tell the train to stop. I haven’t even got a ticket for this ride!”

“Oh but you did Miss. For this ride there is no currency to get a ticket.”

“Would you please stop talking in riddles, only people in the movies do that. It is a little annoying.” Eleanore is clearly peeved. Meanwhile she is desperately trying to forget what she has been forced to remember by Sams asking.

You see, just a few hours before this. She had tried once more to finish her book. A book which weighed heavy on her. Heavier than any other book she had written before. This book was more of a memoir. A memoir full of pain, betrayal, and forgiveness. She cursed every word as she wrote it. She dreaded the lectures she would receive after its publication. She knew her family would never approve of the airing of her childhood laundry.

This book was truly bleeding on a piece of paper, as Hemingway said. But she sat there and bled anyway. By the last few chapters, it all began to feel more and more real. The realness that the end was near solidified by the hour. Writing is one thing, but sending it off into the world, is whole other. She tried to warn her remaining family that this book was honest, both good and bad.

She still loved her father, even after all he had done to her, her sister, and her mom. You know what they say, parental abuse never makes the child hate their parents, it only makes them hate themself. And, it was true.

Eleanores only outlet was when her pen hit paper. There was no correct or incorrect. Just truth.

In order to build the courage and strength to finish the last chapter, she caved and yielded the advice of professionals, all you need is writers fuel, they said… So with a glass of Cabernet in hand, she sat at her desk, and began to write. Cursing Hemingway for the cliche of succumbing to alcohol. She had spent years trying to deny its advances. But tonight, she caved. I mean we ought to “Write drunk and edit sober,” she rationalized to herself.

As the wine began to flow through her veins, so did the words. And so did the memories. She began to feel once more, what she had spent years suppressing.

She inched closer to the final few pages of her book. She then threw her pen down and stood up with a sharp grunt.

“I quit!” She said to an empty room. Eleanor without thought, chugged the last few ounces left in that bottle, and took some of her sleeping pills as one last night cap.

As she swallowed, feeling the liquor and pills stream down the back of her throat, she realized what she had done.

But I didn’t mean it, she thought- deciding if she was being honest with herself about what she did or didn’t mean to do.

As she accepted her fate, she wrote one last time. And she wrote a goodbye letter to let her sister decide the fate of her book. To burn it, or to read it. To bury it or to send it out to the world.

As she now stood in the puddle of her favorite Cabernet, with a prescription bottle lying in it. She looked at Sam and back at her feet, no jokes, no mocking, no hint of mockery. Just a heavy stare.

He looked at her with soft eyes, not breaking the gaze. He saw them well up with glistening droplets.

“I’m so sorry Sam.” “For what miss?” “Everything.” She said.

“But Eleanor, why are you sorry to me? You didn’t do anything to me. I am only here for you.” “Why for me?”

She began to look around the train.. There was not much to see. Just the broken bottle of wine and pill bottle. As she scanned the room, toward the back of the train car, a door was bouncing open and closed.

“So there is a door!” She exclaimed. “Of course there is miss, I told you, you could leave whenever you wanted.” “Well I didn’t see the way out before now.”

“Indeed.” He replied. “Indeed.” She began to walk toward the door, turning around to see if Sam was following her, he was. So she kept moving.

As she was going from one car to another, she peered around the side of the train. She saw an enormous wall. All the up to the sky and as far left to right as her eyes could see. It almost appeared to be a void. She quickly turned back to Sam, “Sam! We are going to hit that! This train must stop!” Sam increasingly unfazed shrugged, and told her to get into the other car before she gets hurt. Eleanore loathing the irony of this newfound concern for her safety- obliged and entered the other train car.

In this car it was darker than the other, like a cloud had touched down, both in sight and smell. Eleanors nose scrunched at the musty stench. She waved her hand in front of her face, hoping to clear some of the haze. She asked Sam who had neglected this car? “It’s filthy!” She declared.

“Miss, is it filthy, or is it just neglected?” Eleanor rolling her eyes, “Don’t catch me on a technicality, they are basically the same thing.” They walked through the car heading to the next one. “Don’t you want to look around first?” Sam asked. “It doesn’t seem like there is much to see.” Sam asked her to look again.

She glanced around until she saw a little girl. She recognized the bow in her hair. She looked at Sam in horror. “What kind of game is this?!” She ran over to the girl who was hiding behind a chair. Sam walked over to them both, the little girl, seemingly not noticing them. Eleanore tries to grab the little girl. “Just leave. You can walk out of that god forsaken house! Trust me.” The girl, still oblivious to Eleanor.

Sam looks at Eleanor. “Why isn’t she leaving? Is she stupid or something?” Eleanor whips back at him, “She is just a child. She didn’t know any better.”

“Correct. She didn’t know any better.” The child begins to call out for her mom. Eleanor looks around but doesn’t see anyone else. Even still, this little girl is calling out.

Eleanore kneels beside the girl, “no one is coming for you.” Eleanor huffs as if all her breath was taken out from her. She stands up and walks toward Sam. “I get it. Can we stop now? None of my childhood was my fault.”

“Like I said Miss, you can get off whenever you want.”

She turned to look at the girl then back at Sam. “I know that is me. I recognize the bow.” “Correct that is you Miss, so why don’t you just go ahead and end it for that girl. Save her from all the pain.”

“Are you crazy??” She shoots back at him. Sam just begins to walk to the next car. But Eleanor isn’t following. “I can’t leave her here Sam.” “Eleanor, she is you, you aren’t leaving anyone. We must keep going.”

As they move from one car to other, they are both knocked off their feet. The train seems to be picking up in speed. “Did you feel that Sam?” He nodded, “Like I said we’ve got to keep going.”

The next car is much brighter, and far more modern. The walls are studded in glamorous wallpaper, there are people sitting in the seats, finally. Some of them are reading and some are playing games. Eleanor feels relief after what she had just experienced. But Sam doesn’t stop he keeps walking toward the door, about to pass her.

“Where are you going, I’d love to stay here Sam.” But he just kept walking as if he didn’t hear her, mystified, she follows him. They almost get to the door until the train picks up more speed, and they are tossed back a bit back.

“Okay, now I am starting to freak out. I think I will take you up on the whole, getting off whenever I want thing…” Sam doesn’t turn around. “Sam.” She says again, still he won’t turn around, she tries one more time, “Sam!”

He finally looks at her. “What Miss?” “I said I want to get off.” “Very well, you can hop off.” As she went to the back door to exit, she turned around to say bye to Sam and caught a glimpse of a woman’s book.

She ran up to the woman to look at it. Still, no one could see her peering over this woman’s back. The woman was on the last page and Eleanor was trying to catch a glimpse. But the words were fuzzy. She could somehow read them but had no understanding of them. She flippantly turned to Sam and said, “I really have lost my mind haven’t I?” Sam finally cracked a smile. “Oh.. so you are human. You had me worried there Sam.”

“Why did you run to see that woman’s book?” Eleanor confused, “Well, I guess I just wanted to see how it ended. But I couldn’t make out any of the words.” “Well, maybe the ending is up in the air still Miss.”

She begins to close her eyes and picture her desk, her manuscript on sitting right in front of her, with that bottle of wine. It clicks. The title and cover mock-up are the same. Initially thinking someone stole it, she is angry, then she looks again, but this time, the words make sense. Her name is on it.

“So I do finish it!” “Well no Eleanor, you didn’t, remember the first car? You decided to quit.” Eleanor clearly entering a stage of panic, begins to gasp for air.

“Wait, so I am dead. I really ended it? I just wanted to rest” Sam just stares at her. “If that’s the case I should just stay on here and enjoy one last ride until the train runs out of track. Which seems to be happening sooner rather than later” She looks out the window, and sees the big black wall inching closer and closer. They feel another jolt and the train is gaining even more speed. She jumps in front of Sam, grabbing his shoulders, nearly shaking him, “what do we do? I want this to stop.”

“That lady was reading my book. MY BOOK. It was published, and that was all I wanted. To get my story out and help people.” “And, you did only that, Miss.” “Only that? Care to clarify Mr.?”

“Well Miss, you only got part of the story out. You decided to end your story before it was actually finished.” “But Sam the book was over.” “Yes but your story wasn’t.”

“Miss, do you remember that little girl?” Eleanor nods. “Well why don’t you go back and tell her how this all ends. Tell her she endures that pain just for it end the way it did. Tell her she wasn’t worth fighting to save.”

“It isn’t that simple Sam.”

“While you are correct, you are also mistaken. You see, that little girl is still in you. She is hiding, scared, and all alone. You carry her every single day. You told me couldn’t leave her alone. You tried to help her. But she didn’t even know you were there… you see that is what you have been carrying. You have been stuck in that little girls body all these years. Alone, scared, and hiding. I think it is time to honor her, and bring the adult Eleanor in the room. She deserves help, she deserves another chance. She deserves to be saved”

Eleanore began to cry, she tried to go back to the little girls train, but the other cars had disappeared. She looked at Sam and asked him, "how do I fix this?” “I told you, you can get off whenever you want. But remember, you won’t be able to get back on. So think about what you really want. How do you want this story to end?”

“I want off. I deserve a chance.” She jolted back again and this time so far and hard, her head hit a wall. Rubbing her throbbing head, she opens her eyes, and she is now back in the first car.

Standing alone in a puddle of wine and glass. She sees the door. It is wide open… There it is, the wall. The void is right in front of me. Only feet away. The train is barreling toward the end.

Eleanore stands up, takes a deep breath, and jumps off the train.

“Clear! Welcome back Eleanore. We thought we lost you.”

Her eyes open, once again things are little blurry. All she sees are lights and people wearing white masks in scrubs.

She feels pain in her chest, and a pressure on her arm. Her sister Mary is holding her hand. Mary pulls Eleanors hand up to her own chest, just when Eleanor sees a cut on her hand. Mary notices she is looking at her cut and lets go of it “Oh, sorry does that hurt?” “Not at all. I actually feel a lot better.”

“So how is the book going, Eleanor?” Eleanor replied, “Well, I was stuck on the ending, but I think I’ve just been inspired. Although, I have a lot of work to do.”