END OF THE LINE

The train rattled along the tracks, its rhythmic motion had lulled me into a peaceful sleep. I was exhausted from a long day of tedious meetings in air conditioned offices, the gentle sway of the train, like a mothers arms was too much and I fell into a deep sleep.

As the evening turned to night the sky grew darker, the train continued its journey, passing remote desolate stations and towns. My dreams were undisturbed until a sudden jolt awakened me. Struggling to open my eyes in the carriage lights I found myself disoriented, confusion washed over me as I realised the train was silent and the engines had stopped.

Footsteps suddenly echoed through the empty carriage, and I made out a dim shadow in the distance. My heart pounded as I stood up and stumbled towards the shadow, I found a cleaner crouched down between the chairs a weary old man with tired eyes.

"Where are we" I asked

He cleaner looked at me with a mix of pity and concern. "I think you slept and missed your stop We've reached the end of the line, we are at Blackthorn"

My eyes widened in disbelief. I have heard stories of this place, an old coal mining town abandoned long ago, rumored to be haunted by the spirits of long lost miners whose bodies have never been recovered. Trepidation gripped me as I jumped down off the train, into the darkness.

The streets were empty, devoid of life. There was no signal on my cell phone and I was not exactly sure where I was. The wind howled through the empty buildings of the Main Street, creating an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. My footsteps echoed through the silence as I wandered aimlessly, searching for any signs of life or a way out.

Minutes turned into hours and my hope began to wane. Should I just go back to the train and wait it out till dawn. I had explored every corner of this forsaken place, finding nothing but decay and despair. The old buildings stood as crumbling reminders of a time forgotten.

I saw the old pub and wondered if I might find a discarded bottle or can of something to ease my thirst.

The door was broken off its hinge and I wandered inside, cobwebs, dust and broken tables and chairs came into focus in the dark.

But my luck may of turned, on the bar was a dusty old glass and a half filled bottle of what smelled like bourbon. I sat on what looked liked the only stool in the place that was not broken and poured my self a shot. In the dimness I noticed futher along the bar an old book I used my phone as a torch, it was a diary or journal of sort. Its pages were yellowed with age and the words faded but still legible. Maybe something to make the night go quicker I began to read.

The diary belonged to a woman named Emily, who had seemed to have lived in the town many years ago. Her words showed a picture of a thriving community, filled with prosperity and happiness . But as I read deeper into the diary, I discovered a terrible story of heartache.

The town had been consumed by a terrible virus and the only town doctor had been the first succumb to the illness there had been no power and they had been unable to contact the outside world, after what seemed like an eternity but actually was just a few months everybody was gone. She was the sole survivor, left to wander the empty streets and bury the bodies of her friends and her loved ones. The diary followed her descent into madness, her desperate attempts to communicate with the outside world to no avail , which eventually led her to try to communicate with the spirits she imagined lingered in the town.

My heart ached as I read Emily's final entry, filled with anguish and longing. I now felt a connection to her, a shared sense of isolation and despair. I realized that I, too, had become a ghost in this forsaken place.

As the night went on my spirit began to wither. I had a terrible feeling and felt I too could lose all hope of ever leaving this place.

I had to get back to the train and find the old man, I need human company, even if I helped him clean the train it would be better than this dark solitude. In this short time I had become haunted by the ghosts of my own fears and regrets.

As the moon hung low in the sky, I found my standing on the edge of the platform overlooking the rails. The wind whispered through the trees, In that moment I realised my fate with a heavy heart, I took a step forward, surrendering myself to the darkness.

All I had to do was stay on the track and walk away from train.

As the moonlight bathed the track a glimmer of hope emerged from the shadows, drawn by an inexplicable force within and unwavering determination, I walked away.

As the years passed, the ghost town remained frozen in time, its streets forever haunted by the echoes of lost souls. But now my testament stood to the fact that in our human spirit there is always a glimmer of light waiting to be discovered.