The Train To Nowhere

"Excuse me? Miss?"

Diana jolted awake, coming face to face with a small child sitting beside her. She furrowed her brow and stared at the young boy in confusion. "Can I help you?" she asked.

He frowned. "We thought you could help us."

Diana stared at the boy before glancing behind him, noticing several strangers staring back at her, hope evident in their gazes. "What?"

"Do you know where we are?" asked one of the women, gently pulling the little boy towards her. "We don't know how we got here."

"What do you mean?" muttered Diana. She glanced around at the people and looked out the window she'd been leaning on - they were on the move. She could hear the clack of tracks as they moved along the countryside. A train? "How did I get here?"

"You just arrived here. Like we did before. None of us knows how we got on the train. We don't have anything on us except our clothes."

Diana patted her pockets, her heart sinking as she realised her phone wasn't on her. She couldn't call for help. "Wait. What about train tickets? You can't catch a train without a ticket."

One of the men shrugged. "None of us have a ticket."

"How long have you been awake?"

"A few days. Maybe a week."

Diana's eyes narrowed. "A week? Has anyone left this carriage?" They shook their heads and slunk away from her. The group averted their gaze from her critical glare. "Can we go to the next carriage?"

"We stay here," mumbled the little boy. "It's safe here."

"How safe can it be when you woke up on a train with no memory of how you got here in the first place?"

She was met with silence. The group slunk back further, each person taking a seat and ignoring her presence. "I'm leaving this carriage. If none of you will risk it, I will. I'm not going to stay here."

Silence.

She huffed in frustration and trudged to the carriage door. It was stiff, but it opened with her help. She made her way into the next carriage, eyes trained on her as she stepped inside. "Hello?" she said. "Does anyone know how they got on this train?"

No one responded. How could they when no one knew how they arrived on the train, or why. "We do not know," croaked an elderly lady. "We arrived at different times but not one of us knows why."

"Can you go further into the train?"

"We have not tried. It is safe here. We do not know what is happening but why risk exploring further when we are safe?"

"Safe?" repeated Diana. "Is everyone on this train delusional?"

The elderly woman cleared her throat and slowly sunk back into her chair, refusing to look up again. Diana was on her own. She stomped to the door and forced it open, marching into the next carriage. Each carriage was the same as the last - full of people who had no idea why they were on a train or how they got there. She grew more and more anxious as she went through carriage after carriage. Nothing seemed right.

Soon, she was met with a different door. The carriage she stood in had only one person inside, an old man who was sleeping against the window. He hadn't responded to her, so she decided to just keep powering forward. But this door wouldn't open. It was sturdy and looked far newer than the rest, reinforced with steel and heavily locked.

She pounded on the door, desperate to find a way forward. No one responded from within. After several minutes she heard a cough behind her and she spun around, coming face to face with the elderly man that had been sleeping.

"You are too damn loud," he growled. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was just trying to find out where this train is going."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"Do you?"

He chuckled. "Of course I do, Diana. I'm not an old fool."

"How do you know my name?"

He grinned. "Ah, you truly have forgotten. Just like all the others."

"Forgotten? Forgotten what? Where are we going? How did any of us get here?"

He held up a hand. "You must find that out on your own," he whispered. "Now, do I look familiar to you?"

Diana frowned as she studied the old man's face. "I don't know you," she snapped. "I've never met you before."

"Try again, Diana. I know you very well, I'm sure you will remember who I am. Then the rest will come to you."

Her frown deepened before realisation dawned on her. She did know this man. His picture filled the walls of her family home for years. "Grandpa?" she questioned.

His eyes crinkled as a smile graced his face. "There we go," he said. "I've been looking over you your entire life, I'm glad my face is not so easily forgotten."

"But you're dead."

"That I am."

Diana's eyes widened. "Then... am I dead?"

His smile faltered. "I want to tell you otherwise, but I cannot. I am here to bring you home."

"Then the train is just a waiting room? Everyone is waiting to move on?"

"In a way. Each person must make their way to the front, and find a loved one who will take them from this never-ending train. But people often forget and lose their curiosity. The train keeps growing and people remain behind, refusing to move on."

"Can I help them?"

"I am afraid not. They will only see what they want, when they want. There is no way to convince them to move on until they are ready."

Diana sighed. Memories flooded her mind, images she desperately wanted to forget again. She remembered the rain and the wind. She remembered the truck coming towards the family car, hurdling with no sign of stopping. She remembered her brother crying and her mother screaming. But there was no pain in her memories, only darkness.

"I am sorry my dear granddaughter," the old man whispered, a wrinkly hand resting on her shoulder. "The rest of the family is okay, you took the brunt of the crash."

A tear trickled down Diana's cheek. "I'm scared," she said.

"I know. I will not leave your side. You are safe."

"Thank you... grandpa."

He held out his hand and she gripped it tightly, ready to leave the train at the next stop. Wherever that may be.