Riding all alone

“We’ve arrived at the station—”

Karina pressed her hands on her ears to cut off the rest of the sentence. She knew how it would end. It was her god-knows-which time going this way on this train to an unknown destination. Although there wasn’t much hope left at this point, deep in her heart she wished for the journey to end, but the possibilities that came with the ending were endless and she had a feeling not all were supposed to end well.

It also seemed like there were ‘ground rules’ the train had which Karina had no power against. Every time the watch would strike midnight, Karina fell asleep and woke up only six hours later at her usual place, which was the closest spot to the window, on the right bench, in the first cabin. That’s the way her day started, no matter how or where it ended.  

Looking out the window, Karina could see bustling crowds starting to fill the train. Parents shouting at their children, couples holding hands, some young adults ready to roll their eyes. That was what would happen every morning. People always changed. Everything did; from the passengers to the staff, only Karina sat by the window all the same, as if time and space didn’t hold her hostage like it did with everyone else. Her head was pressed against the old wall of the train. The wood felt cold. The paint was scratched off and someone wrote and drew all over the surface of a wall with different coloured markers. This ‘someone’ was a couple of different people to tell the truth, with couple of different shades of markers too.

The air in the train was stuffy and made Karina a bit dizzy. One after the other, the passengers walked past her cabin. Once in a while, some, especially children, curiously would glance at the woman sitting in the old cabin by herself. Their gazes never stay fixed on the scene for too long, for the young woman would stare back as soon as her attention was grabbed, and the stare was never kind. Karina tried to fill it with as much disgust, judgement and hatred as she could. When she first woke up in the train, she didn’t know what was happening and asked for help, but people ignored her. Sometimes, children would try to stop and talk to her, but their parents were always quick enough to push them down the aisle, preventing the conversation. Once, a man decided to help. The moment he stepped into the cabin, he disappeared into thin air. Karina screamed, cried, begged for help, but it was all useless. She only saw that man in her sleep the next night; he smiled and said: “Don’t be sorry”. Every night since then she hoped to see him, but she never did.

 After that moment, Karina tried to push everyone that came along her way. She didn’t know what was wrong with the cabin, but she assumed that not all could see her. Most would stare as if there was a white wall and nothing more. Their eyes were mostly blank and lifeless, clearly their minds were elsewhere. Another reason for Karina to be thinking that she’s invisible for almost everyone was the fact that the rest of the train was different from her cabin. Really different. The other cabins were new and a perfect shade of grey with soft, comfortable seats. The aisle was welcoming the passengers in, but Karina didn’t like the coldness she felt when walking down it.

Another ‘rule’ of the train was that she could only walk out her cabin when the train was moving; not before, nor after. She also mustn’t touch any people when walking, otherwise they’re going to disappear, just like that man did. She could do whatever she wanted with only a few people noticing her, which she thought of as both, a gift and a curse in one flacon. She would live each day as differently and unforgettably as was possible, considering she was on the same train every day and then lose her consciousness at the midnight, waking up only six hours later. She often wandered for how long more she would have to be on the train for and when if she would be able to get off it at all.

Slowly, to Karina’s liking, the vehicle started moving. They were taking off. Almost immediately after leaving the station, they entered a tunnel, and the sixth sense was telling Karina that some time would pass before they would see light again. The woman tried to remember how she got to where she was. Although she tried her absolute best, she could only remember there was lots of green at the place she took off from (which she assumed was representing grass) and light (which means it was day).

To kill time, Karina decided to start counting in her head and see at which number she’ll stop when they leave the tunnel. In her heart, there was a tingling déjà vu feeling that lingered like a sweet scent of spring flowers blooming. When she was young, she would collect bouquets of wildflowers for each of her family members, but she didn’t know that. She also didn’t know that all her memory got erased the moment she set her foot on the transport.

Karina sat up right, sensing that something was out of its place. She wasn’t sure if it was good or bad yet. That’s when they saw the light again. 67 was the number she reached. Bright sun shining upon enormous meadows, making them glow under its rays. It looked like heaven. Karina was wonderstruck by the beauty of the nature she was gazing at. The fields were dressed in all the shades of rainbow, from red classical roses to soft bluebells. She put her hand on heart, and her soul sang, begging to be sitting not in the train, but outside in the fields where her bones were asleep six feet under the ground.