The Apparition Line

He was drunk again.

He barged into my room like a hurricane in its prime, wild and chaotic. The cramped space filled with the smell of the warm bourbon that flowed from his open sweaty pores and the drops of liquor that splattered onto the floor as he swung the bottle around in a wild rage. His red rimmed eyes locked onto me, and I knew that he was gonna hit me. He barreled straight for me stopping just inches from my face as he huffed before shouting out,

"YOU THINK YOU'RE SOOO MUCH BETTER THAN ME, DON'T YOU?!"

He'd found my acceptance letter to MIT in the mail and completely lost his shit last week. But I knew what that was. That was his fear of his failures in life. And even though I knew it for what it was it didn't make the connection of the hit any less painful.

He'd moved so fast that I had no real time to react. The bottle came slamming down on the side of my head and that familiar smell of copper was the last thing I remembered before hitting the ground.

A stentorian squeal filled my ears and hot air that smelled of oil and burning coal filled my nose and engulfed my face. What the hell was all this noise? I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, trying to ignore the sounds and the odd smells. In my sleep I could escape the hell I lived in for a little while, and there was a sense peace in that that I chased after whenever I got the chance. But when a chord of loud chimes forced its way into my ears once again my eyes snapped open.

"What the hell..." I mumbled to myself as the first thing my eyes took in was a worn but detailed chestnut leather seat and jet-black wooden plank backing. Not too high above it was an open overhead compartment. My eyebrows drew together in confusion, and I pushed my body up to a sitting position. The palm of my hand instantly went to my head. A splitting pain shot from my temple to behind my eyes. It lasted for a solid minute before I was able to open my eyes again and really try to take in my surroundings.

It looked like I was in some sort of old-fashioned train car with curling gold molding around the sliding door and windowpanes. The curtains were drawn against the windows, and something quietly told me to pull them back. My hands reached for the black velvet but what I saw when I pulled them aside sent my body careening into the door behind me and caused my chest to heave with panicked breaths. Outside those windows was a vast expanse of darkness and dense fog. But that black was also decorated in tall barren starving trees. And as those vagabond trees passed by in quick secession and the train sped down the cold track, I couldn't help feeling like I was heading for something dismal and all consuming; something I would not be able to come back from.

Where in the bloody hell was I?

My hands shook violently, and my eyesight grew more and more blurred as my mind fought to make sense of the situation. But no matter how much I turned it over and over in my mind my brain just could not make logical sense of any of it. Slowly I turned my back on the depressing windows and faced the closed sliding door. As my fingers wrapped around the cold brass handle a thought shot through my mind that caused me to hesitate.

'If I was afraid of what was outside the train's windows, what was I possibly going to find beyond this door?'

I don't know how long I stood there grasping that handle before I finally pushed down and slid the heavy door back. I peeked out into the long narrow hall and gulped down bile as nothing, but blackness dimly lit by fogged lanterns along the walls greeted me. Long rectangular windows stretched the length of the wall opposite my door and outside those windows were much of the same setting as outside the one in my car.

It didn't look like there was anyone aboard this train but that had to be impossible. There had to be SOMEONE here that could help me. Maybe tell me how I even got aboard this creepy locomotive in the first place. I took one nervous step after another, peering into each cabin as I passed. And with every empty cabin I found my dreed created an even bigger hole in the pit of my stomach.

I tried calling out with the faint hope that someone would hear me. "H-hello?"

I was met with nothing but dead silence.

I quickened my steps as I reached the door to the next car. I glanced behind me, tempted to just return to the car I had woken up in and just wait out this confusing journey. But even as everything in my body told me to do just that, my subconscious urged me forward. I pushed down on the handle to the car that led to the next and when I pried the door open the compressing wind from the movement of the train blew into my face. As I stood there between cars atop the scrap of metal that held them all together, I heard the scraping of metal against metal again. Before a question could begin to form towards the sound, I was forced back against the car I'd emerged from as another train a nose breadth away from mine barreled in the opposite direction parallel to my own.

But how... how could another train run right beside this one? There were no tracks adjacent to my train. Even as I looked down, the train beside me charging at full speed ran on nothing but air.

I forced my limbs to move and again forced open the door to the next car. It slid back heavily and slammed closed even heavier. This car was colder than the one I had come from. So much so that Ice misted the edges of the rectangular windows. This car was different. This one had no individual cabins within to hold people, just long rows of red velvet seats that ran the length of both sides. My eyes fleeted again to the windows and again I took in the train beside this one. Even though that trains windows were completely fogged by the mist I could see that that train had light. Every window was fully lit. That train also looked newer and cleaner. More up to date than this one. Just like this one though, that one showed no signs of slowing down or making a stop.

"Eren..."

I shot around at the faint sound of my name. It was so faint that I would have missed it if it weren't for how quiet the train actually was on the inside.

"Hello?"

I turned and turned but did not hear it again or see anyone in front or behind me. The eerie feeling settled in my stomach again and my breathing caught in my throat. As I held my breath my eyes widened. The floor beneath my feet began to tilt upward and my body backward; almost like walking up a very steep hill. I looked around quickly for something to grab onto but in seconds I was stumbling toward the red velvet seats. I felt myself falling forward and my hands met the velvet. But instead of it being warm and soft, it was wet; the smell of copper heavy as my hands supported my weight on it.

My subconscious chimed in. 'I know that smell.'

I yanked my hands away, still off balance and toppled to the cold floor. I lifted them and let out a guttural scream as my hands shook violently. Both of my hands from palm to fingertip were smeared in dark crimson. The smell was enough of a confirmation but still the word fell from my lips like a haunted whisper.

"Blood..."

And as the last of the word emerged the car began to groan like a man in pain. I cowered back, my body wishing that it could become part of the train itself. Blood began seeping from the lining where the seat met the floorboards, and between the seams in the walls. It oozed almost black as it seemed to reach for me. Tears blurred my vision as my fear took over any sane thought I had left.

"Eren."

"Who's there? What do you want?"

A slight chuckle. "Well, that's a loaded question. I think the better one would be, what do YOU want?"

"What?" I stammered.

A deep sigh, but still no sign of a person.

"You are letting your fear blind you." the deep voice replied. "Look beyond the window."

I pulled myself up fighting to ignore the blood still oozing from the floor and walls. I turned to face the window, the other speeding train with its alight windows on the other side. I watched after car after car skated past me until my eyes narrowed to slits and I made out the dark form of a person standing on the other side. The silhouette stood, arms straight at its sides, clearly another guy, in the same window facing me. I could not make out a face or any other features.

Is this the person that said my name? The person I could hear but not see?

All at once, it moved. Even though the windows continued to fly by, the silhouette remained in the same spot. The unknown person lifted its hand and placed it on the window. To my stupefaction a palm print appeared on my fogged window.

"Remember us...Remember what happened to us." The voice whispered.

It was like my body was on autopilot as my feet shuffled forward until my knees hit the haunting velvet. I leaned forward and splayed my hand out, placing it on top of the handprint that was already there. The real disturbance came when the feeling of recognition flooded me from head to toe. I closed my eyes with the overwhelming sensation, trying to pinpoint that recognition.

The lighting beyond my closed lids changed. It went from consuming darkness to warm light. The sudden heat on my eyelids made me open them. When I did it was like I'd been transported to another place. I was on another train but this one was all light and decadence. Polished Wine glasses sat on pristine tablecloths with glowing Light fixtures nailed into the electric blue paisley wallpaper covering the walls. I spun slowly in a circle, taking in the vast difference before turning my attention to the windows.

I couldn't be...

Parallel to me was the other train. My train. The dark and broken one that ran hastily on its rickety rails. Even the windows on this side appeared clearer. I could even see the horrible red of the bloody velvet from here.

"Well, well. Welcome to the party. It's about time you showed up."

I swiveled around in my alarm. That same raspy voice from before was so clear and so close that I knew that we had to be in the same room now. Lone behold, someone sat at a table closer towards the edge of the car cast in shadow. They could not have been there a moment ago. I would have noticed.

"No need to be afraid. I am probably the last thing that would hurt you here."

As I inched closer, I began making out the aged lines of his faces. The ones that usually began to set in on people transitioning out of their twenties. A beard covered the entirety of his chin and his dark brown eyes seemed worn and tired. But even in that I saw a small spark of life still swimming in them. He gave a curt nod and beckoned for me to sit across from him. He spun a short glass in his hand that looked like it held bourbon. Smelled like it to. My nose wrinkled at the smell.

"Apologies." He commented before draining the rest of the contents in the glass and setting it down. "Triggering, isn't it?"

I shook my head slowly as my eyebrows drew together in confusion. "How did you- who are you?"

The guy wore a black suit, expensive from the looks of it. His hair was cut low and slicked back and he sported gold cuff links that shone even in this light.

"I guess I would have asked the same question. How's your head feeling by the way? Took quite a nasty hit."

I'd almost forgotten. My fingers went instinctively to the dried blood I knew was matted in my hair. I winced a little before lowering it again.

"What is this place? How do you know anything about me?"

He lowered his eyes for only a moment before settling into his chair and making eye contact with me. It was in that moment that I saw it. The uncanny resemblance we shared. The same tired brown eyes I always had. The same curve of our noses and jaw. And then the most shocking similarity of all. He sported a thin white scar right at the edge of his hairline where my wound was right now.

"You're me." I whispered in disbelief.

"Bingo," he replied.

"How...."

"When dad hit you you didn't just black out Eren. You died. He hit us so hard over the head that we bled out on the bedroom floor. The old man finally got the better of us. That is how you ended up here. Well, not here. There."

He pointed to my train and we both gave it a look before returning our attention back to one another.

"When you died you woke up in purgatory. Aka the dreary cold train you were just on. Only rarely does someone's train cross paths with the Apparition Line."

"T-the Apparition..."

"The Apparition Line. Usually, the Purgatory train only shows up when unfinished business has happened within the persons final moments. You did not have unfinished business that would cause you to stay at the time so you should not have been on that train, but I changed the rails course so as to come into contact with this train." He pointed down to the table in front of us.

I did not have the intellectual capacity to process everything he said as quickly as he had said it. I heard it all, but I was still stuck on the first few major things. One of which being that I was talking to what clearly came off as an older version of myself, and the second being that I wasn't asleep and dreaming or hallucinating but actually dead. I didn't know if it was the wound on my head or the flat out ludicrousy of this entire debacle that brought on the headache, but it slammed into me with the same vengeance it had when I'd first woken up aboard that train. Two of my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose hoping the sharp pain would dissipate.

"How long has that been happening?" the older version of myself gestured, leaning forward on the table while interlocking his hands. His face was all seriousness now, eyes hard and searching.

I squinted through the pain to look at him. "Since I woke up."

He gave a silent hm and lifted his arm to check a watch I had not seen beneath his sleeve. He then leaned toward the window beside him and grimaced.

"Then that means that you do not have much time. The pain will continue to get worse. Use that to determine how much longer you have."

"How much longer I have to do what?"

"We are here now, speaking, because the future consists of you-US living beyond dads cruelty. I crossed our paths because I needed to. The fact that you are here and that the train you originated on has not let you off yet means that you have a chance. In order for this reality," he gestured to himself, "to take place, you must make it possible. I am giving you the chance to change how long we live and how we die. But you only get one chance Eren."

The searing pain emitted a short hiss from between my teeth. The table shifted as the older version of myself pushed off from it and got to his feet, straightening the sleeves of his suit. I got shakily to my feet and watched him.

"So, what happens now?" I finally mustered up the courage to ask.

He moved out into the wide isle. I followed suit. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"You'll be pulled back to your train. I have told you the base of the situation but sadly there are still things you need to become aware of before the train can spit you back out. But be aware Eren, there are worse things than your mind aboard that train. You are treading a thin line between the living and the dead so you will encounter things that will try to pull you in the direction they want you to go. You'll have to discern which is the correct path. One shot. We've got one shot kid. Don't fuck this up. We Kinda like our life in the future."

I started to panic. "Wait! Why can't you just tell me what to do? I don't want to go back there."

A sadness crept into his voice again but still he forced a smile. " Because if I tell you what happens, it won't happen. We'd be shooting ourselves in the foot. But me being here and talking to you means that there is a possible future where you get this right. Don't let the fear and anxiety consume you. Remember this conversation."

Before another question or word could be uttered, he turned his back on me and walked toward the end of the train car. My hand reached out but as I did his form distorted and then disappeared into the door of the train car altogether. The lights flickered before they shut off completely and I was left in engrossing gloom. I felt the hair on my arms stand in response to the shift in the air. What once was warm was now cold. The lights flickered rapidly before holding a steady dim light again. To my dismay I was back on my train. And when I looked back to the window there was no longer a train running beside mine. My body was ready to give up entirely but then I remembered what was at stake here. My future and my very existence depended on my getting out of here. I had to suck it up and get a move on.

'he said that there were worse things on this train than my mind. So that means that the blood I had seen could have been my mind. But then if there are things worse, what else am I going to run into on this damn thing.' I thought to myself. No matter: according to myself I had little time to get this done. I used that determination to push me forward. I reached the end of the car and shoved the door open, not even thinking about the speed of the train or the flimsy piece of metal I had to step on to get to the next one. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be looking for, but I kept moving car after car until I did find something.

A small boy with dark brown shoulder length hair stood with his back facing me in the middle of the car. My body trembled as I stepped forward. The light was dimmer in this car, and it cast a long shadow on the boy. Longer than it should have. I stopped just short of the boy and stretched my hand out to touch him. As I was just short of his shoulder his head swiveled around, emitting a scream from me. His body slowly followed after. He could not have been more than five. Baby fat still stuck to his cheeks and his eyes bore the innocence of a toddler. There was no question as to who this was, I'd seen my baby pictures. This was adolescent me. The sadness in his face overwhelmed me and I squatted down. I barely remembered anything from five years old but looking at me now it was staggering to see how my shoulders slumped forward, and how sorrowful my eyes were. How could I have been bearing the weight of the world on my shoulders at that age?

"Hey," I whispered carefully. "What are you doing here?"

Tears filled my younger self's eyes, and he shook his head.

"Please, tell me why you're crying."

His lips barely moved. "You don't remember..."

"Remember what?" I answered.

One word. "Mom."

It was my turn to shake my head. "What about mom?"

This had to be close to when she left us. That could be the only explanation for why I was so sad. I was prepared to console him when he said,

"What happened to her."

It wasn't a question. But what did he mean what happened to mom? She had left us when we were little. Still, something made my blood run cold as I asked,

"What happened to mom?"

His pupils were wide, traumatized as he stared at me.

"Daddy was mad. Mommy and daddy argued. Mommy never came back."

I remembered the argument they had had. it was a lot of yelling and breaking things behind their bedroom door.

The sharp pain chose then to assault me. It brought me to my knees. It was twenty times worse than the last and it blurred my vision. But as my vision blurred, things began flashing behind my lids. The house we still lived in. The dark hallways with their dim old light sconces on the walls. The deep red carpet on the floor. And their white wooden door slamming shut behind them. The arguing came right after as I sat at the top of the stairs with my hands over my ears, praying it would end soon.

Yelling...yelling...more yelling...and then nothing.

My little fists banged on the door, begging for her. Wanting her to hold me and wipe my tears away. But instead of her the monster emerged. Red stains marred his face and shirt. He grimaced down at me, shoving me to the side before slamming the door shut again.

"This is all your fault," he grumbled before taking off down the stairs.

I tried the knob but it wouldn't budge, and mommy never came out.

The pain stopped. My eyes opened, and I was back on the train. My face was wet from the tears still streaming down my face. My hands shook so bad all I could do was knot them together. The small hand that touched my cheek made me look up.

"Daddy killed mommy. She never left us. She never would have left us."

No. No no no, that couldn't be true. But even as I said it silently to myself and wanted nothing more than to reject the memory; I knew it was true. My father had murdered my mother.

"Where is she?"

"He buried her under the house. He thought we were asleep, but we saw that night."

"Remember Mommy Eren. Remember us. Don't let daddy win."

When I looked up through my tears, my younger face smiled, two front teeth missing and disappeared from view.

"Keep moving..." were his last words.

My grief was enormous and weighed me down like cement, but I couldn't stay here wallowing in it. I had to pull myself together and keep moving. I had avenge my mother.

Three cars later and I finally stopped in my tracks. This car was freezing cold. Colder than any of the others that I'd traveled through previously. The closer I got to the door the more nervous I became.

Almost Instantly the ink black walls shrunk and expanded on both sides before the black started to melt like ice cream on a hot day. But instead of that melting color dripping onto the floor several places within that melting liquid warped and rippled like a single drop of water meeting a larger body of itself. I froze in place as long black arms as thin as twigs with long spindly fingers simultaneously shot out from all directions. All of them came straight for me at the same time! One caught hold of the hem of my shirt while the others snapped and clawed at air trying to grab ahold of me. Sweat beaded my forehead as I tried to dodge the otherworldly hands. But as they reached a familiar voice that always filled me with dread emerged from the constricting air.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME DON'T YOU!"

"YOU ARE NOTHING AND WILL ALWAYS BE NOTHING!"

With every sentence I realized that because he was my dad I'd always allowed him to hurt me. Physically and emotionally. But allowing him to do those things put me here. I never once stood up to him. Just like this moment all I did was cower in the face of his vexation. If I was going to survive, that would need to change.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of my shirt. I pulled hard, the hand having just as tight a grip. My muscles strained as the tug of war ensued between me and this entity. My father's booming voice continued to fill the air pressing down even harder on my lungs. I almost missed it but there was what looked like a thin kitchen knife on the floor just underneath the seat. I reached for it. I let out a roar as I flew around and slashed at the hand. A screech broke forth and red blood spurted from the gash I made. As the hand let go the shrill tone of a ringing phone turned my attention to the end of the car.

"GET TO THE PHONE!" Everything screamed all at once. I darted for it, dodging the still reaching hands and ripped the phone off the hook. I put the receiver to my ear.

"Good Job kid. See you around..."

Everything went white.

My hands shielded my eyes from the light and when I lowered them the knife was still in my hand, but I was back in my house, standing in my doorway. Below me something heavy lied there. It was my father. An open gash in the side of his neck. I fell to the ground, my hands covered in blood.

What had I done?!

A wail broke the silence, and I threw the knife to the floor. Sirens blared in the background, growing closer and closer by the second.

"You did what you had to do."

"When the police get here tell them to check his room, along with the concrete lining the basement. They will find everything they need. Mom would be proud Eren. She can rest easy now.

THREE WEEKS LATER...

I shoved the last of my bags to the top of the train cabin bound for New York. I turned to take one last look at the small town that had been my home and captor and thought back to the events right after I'd come to. The police had searched the house and found a journal filled with different ways to murder someone in dads' handwriting. And when they dug up the basement, they had found my mother's remains long since decayed. She had wanted to leave and take me with her if he didn't stop drinking. He wouldn't have it so he made it where she nor I could ever leave again. And when he found my acceptance letter to MIT three thousand miles away last week, he saw history trying to repeat itself. He had hit me with that bottle in his stupor. But even if he hadn't, he had no intention of ever letting me leave alive.

The city paid for a proper burial for my mother beneath a blooming oak tree, and I was granted a bittersweet closure with the placing of her tombstone. I still remembered my time aboard the Apparition Line and my dealings within it. It was still a mystery to me how I had fought back while unconscious, but I knew that my past and future selves had something to do with it. The first few weeks after what happened I had turned everything over and over again in my mind. Everything wasn't for me to understand, and I got that now.

"ALL ABOARD!" The train conductor shouted as he leaned from his narrow window.

I sighed deep and sat back in my seat staring out the window as the train departed the station. Once out of the terminal trees passed by steadily. But as I stared out of my window in the cabin a deep blue train shot past going in the opposite direction, and as it did, and the windows passed quickly by I saw just a glimpse of myself in a black suit and tie standing hand and hand with the much smaller five-year-old version of myself on the other side. As I sat up in my seat they waved, smiles on their faces before the end of the train shot past my window and I was left with nothing but blue sky.

I may not have understood everything that happened, but I would always be eternally grateful to the Apparition Line for giving me a second chance and the courage to fight back.