The Train#

A high pitch scream came from the brakes, rattling me awake from brief respite. Dirty with hand prints, the plastic windows shook as the ‘train’ slowed to a stop. With a small bit of hope, I looked up, and the doors opened, revealing a solid brick wall. Again. I closed my eyes with keen disappointment, hoping to at least get some more sleep, but the insistent strong yellow incandescent light shone through my eyelids. I let out a sigh; my energy was utterly depleted. I rested my head on the window, only to feel its incessant shaking. A feminine voice chipped: “Next stop…”

The next word was distorted– typical.

I remember when I had first boarded this train. I just wanted to get home. While I was entering, I noticed that there was nobody inside. I was relieved about that; it meant I could blast my headphones without worrying about being socially conscious. For a moment I was excited to catch up on the latest celebrity news, but when I looked down at my phone, it showed the crossed out battery symbol.

“Damn it.” I thought. I leaned back in the molded chair. My day had been long already. The same motions that governed me for decades –wake up, train, work, train, sleep– had exhausted me. The train accelerated to its full speed– I felt the rapid clicking between the wheels and the track. I had tried literally everything– breaking the windows, prying open the doors, and a variety of increasingly insane escape methods, but none of them had worked. The windows were impenetrable. The doors would open only to reveal more bricks. The fire system would simply shriek and turn on the sprinklers (which I didn’t want to experience again).

I let out an unintelligible scream until my throat burned. The monotony dug into the depths of my soul– the same brick wall, the same voice with its distorted words. I fell on the floor, exhausted. At least its coldness gave my heart some warmth. The PA system chirped once again: “All passengers please remain seated as we approach our next stop”.

I felt as though my will was slowly seeping from the body that sustained it, which continued to lie there on the dirty floor, a pool of saliva collecting beside it. Getting up slowly required energy I had to borrow from the depths of my soul. I excoriated my reflection in the dirty window. My countenance was unrecognizable. The once pressed suit I wore was wrinkled; my eyes had developed deep bags. And yet the train surged on. I began walking through the train to see the different cars.

“I cannot go out like this.” I muttered, avoiding hysteria. The incandescent yellow lighting was the same. The molded chairs were the same. The brick walls were the same…I may as well have been looping through the same section of tunnel. I noticed an advertisement on the wall. It seemed to be for a vacation spot or some sort of agency, but I didn’t care enough to confirm it. What stood out then read: “Come for a moment; Stay for a lifetime!” I felt sick. I ripped it off the wall and threw it on the floor.

“I WILL NOT GO OUT LIKE THIS!” I screamed. The train remained apathetic. I began running to find the locomotive. Maybe, I could stop all this madness.

At the driver’s door, I found it. I punched my way through the glass and snaked my arm down to grasp the handle. The door opened with a creak. Some alarm sounded.

I looked in.

There was no engineer.

There were no controls.