Train #H34V317

Micah sat frozen, crouched over his legs staring at the cold laminate ticket in his hands. Mesmerized by the print of his name and the “One Way Express” labeled at the top, he didn’t even realize he hadn’t moved a muscle since sitting down. The sky blue borders of the card shimmered in the light, and along with the glare of its plastic covering stared a photo of him he didn’t even remember taking. Thinking it was too good to be true, he gently started to rub his name to find a printing mistake that must have occurred. He knew there weren’t mistakes with this trip, but he still couldn’t trust it. There was no way we deserved this ticket. Before he sat down, he asked station attendants and fellow travelers if fakes were passed out to trap people and lock them up. They just started, tilted their heads slightly in confusion, and patted his shoulder before walking away to try and comfort his anxieties. This did not work. 

The only reason Micah was even here in this predicament was because his name was drawn out of some elaborate, gold, seemingly ceremonial bowl. The announcer reached for the paper vote with too much enthusiasm for Micah’s sake. They had pitch black hair pulled back with pins and a smile that could hypnotize sirens. When guiding him to the entrance of the station, all he could smell was roses from their hair every time they moved their head. He almost didn’t remember because of how blindly enamored he was with them. He still didn’t remember what the angelic creature told him, but knew to move forward. However he couldn’t put together how he got there, where he was going, why his name was put in the vote, nor what was the purpose of this happening in the first place. The votes came from people way better than him. They actually cared about things and had real achievements, not the typical ones to make people feel better with their unfulfilled lives. On paper, he shouldn’t even be here.

10 Minutes until Train #H34V317, 10 Minutes until Train #H34V317.

Yet here he was, still couldn’t decide if it was against his will or not, and all he could see was the photo of him staring back waiting for the picture to scream at him for cheating the system. It’s not that he wasn’t the worst kid in the world, he just stopped trying to be useful. His Mom was always in his corner, even though he never deserved it. Always gave him the benefit of the doubt when people looked down on him, and tried to make sure he was at least checked on when she could. It made sense for her to write his name down but she deserved this chance more than him; he knew that as a fact. Marcie did more than people could do in two lifetimes, and if she didn’t know that then he couldn’t imagine anyone more worthy. When Dad was having problems getting sober, she left her whole life to take care of mom and her siblings. Jaime and I were still kids, but Marcie became our second mom as most eldest daughters become. Even Jaime stepped up to help Mom when she needed it most, but she knew what she was giving up, and reminded him any chance she could when he messed something up for them. Everyone got busy taking care of each other, and Micah was deemed useless from the start. In return he made sure to take care of himself and stay out of the way of the people who were putting effort into the family. It would be easier to take care of everyone if Jaime and his Mom saw less of him. They knew what path he was going down, and made sure they weren’t a part of it. 

Jaime became the Marcie substitute when she died. She made sure grades never faltered, graduated high school early with honor roll and a full ride to the local state college. Even got to keep her job at the restaurant after graduation so she could make some money and work her way up to help out the family more. She did whatever she could to take care of Mom and the house, but barely acknowledged his existence. Couldn’t even be a stray hair on the back of her shirt. It was abruptly after the accident, but her clear disdain for him grew with rolled eyes, side glances, to then dismissing his questions to ignoring him completely. He was already dead to her by the time Mom died, and he couldn’t really blame her. He was almost certain she blamed him for the death of Dad and Marcie in the car accident. He stayed out of a lot of trouble but wasn’t a star student either, just stayed under the radar as much as possible. After Joseph died, things went downhill even more. Jaime was disappointed and Mom just kept looking the other way to avoid the reality of the situation. 

It probably wouldn’t have gotten so bad if Marcie’s then ex-boyfriend didn’t die on his first shift. After the first funeral, Mom and Jaime leaned on each other, and Micah and Joseph leaned on each other. He was training to be a firefighter when Marcia switched to a Nursing Program closer to home. They were a match made in heaven, and some of the best people put on this planet. They really wanted the best for people and cared way too much about helping friends, neighbors, and strangers. Joseph wanted to continue his training at the academy to help keep people from leaving too soon like Marcie. When he finally graduated from his program, he invited his Dad and Micah’s family to celebrate his achievement. He stayed close to Micah and made sure he showed up for school, did what was required of him, and kept each other company during times of grief, even if Micah didn’t understand the grief process. What Micah wasn’t prepared for was the risk of being a firefighter, and the first job he was sent on became his last. After that, Micah stopped trying as hard, stopped being present, and never really recovered.

He tried to continue high school for as long as possible, but eventually dropped along with his girlfriend Anne to try and find better homes for themselves. After his mom died while working in a shipping warehouse, it took Jaime all of a month to get things in order to get the last semester of her classes online with permissions from her teachers, a full-time job at the restaurant she served and bartended at, and covered funeral expenses and bills for the house. Once the worker’s compensation check, life insurance, and retirement fund officially came, she had set aside a couple years worth of bills and property taxes to be comfortable while adjusting to her new life. Once Jaime got home and the funeral passed, Micah arranged to leave with Anne a week later. He wondered if Jaime ever went looking for him or if she was relieved she could be alone and away from all the problems. He didn't want to be a problem so he made it so that he wasn’t in her way to live the life she deserved.

He couldn’t tell if he really loved Anne or just liked the comfort of a warm body next to him and a soft voice to fill the silence. Either way, she was the reason he was still alive. He showed her a group that would help heal their familial trauma and become part of a better family, all for $100. They could restart their lives with a family who did not know about the wrongs they had done, and would love them unconditionally. Anne was clearly nervous at first, but she either didn’t want him to be alone or to be alone herself. He took money out of Jaime’s wallet to fund both of them and went East towards the camp. It would be the last time he'd ever hurt anyone ever again. He could finally redeem himself with a new family. He couldn’t remember much of Anne’s personal life, but it must have been bad enough to follow him into the new dwelling. Neither of them knew much about the place, and wouldn’t have thought for a second it could have been a scam. Their first meal together with all the new “cousins” was called “The Last Fear,” to represent the last time they felt different from their families and began a new journey. The cinnamon wine warmed their bellies and wasn’t meant to wash all the anxieties away. Micah never figured that just twenty-four hours later, police would find a circle of thirty bodies around a table in the heart of an extremist cult encampment, abandoned and on the move.

5 Minutes until Train #H34V317, 5 Minutes until Train #H34V317.

Even with all the people he wronged, he still got this ticket. His Mom, Anne, and Marcie all wrote his name down for the train. He assumed his dad didn’t consider his family after life. Or just never bothered to wait for us. Everyone he had ever hurt, with the exception of Jaime being the last living person in our family, and they still voted for him. He had killed them all and it didn’t make sense why they would. Anne with the cult, Mom over worked and having to take on the second job, he may not have pulled the trigger with them but he was for certain the reason why he was the only survivor in the car with Dad and Marcie. They had been arguing in the front talking about how Micah needed to step up in the family or he’d continue to be useless. Dad was already high as hell, driving because he refused not to, and said Micah was lazy because he hadn’t taken the bins out the night before. When Dad yelled, Marcie yelled louder trying to defend me. Before he knew it, his Dad was swerving the car and smashed the front of the car into a telephone pole on the side of the highway. The Pole went straight through the middle, crushing his dad and sister and barely touching Micah. He couldn’t call for help and was trapped in the car with two dead bodies. He was useless. 

He killed every single one of them, what if he ends up killing all the people on the train? Innocent people that are way more deserving of this trip than him. Before his thoughts got out of control he shoved his ticket in his pocket and grabbed and folded his legs into his chest to rest his body on the walls surrounding his bench. If he could shrink into nothing he would. He could miss the train, get stuck at the station, and let everyone assume he is better off so he doesn’t have to face the unknown. He could just live at the station, but he knew he would be wasting their vote, their opportunity to be on this train. His fear was swallowing him whole. Maybe this was hell, he’d deserve it.

“Erm… excuse me,” squeaked a voice around the corner of the bench. He was going to ignore it but then felt a small hand pat his shoulder. When Micah looked up, he saw a small kid, no more than ten years old with short blonde hair, brown eyes, and a freckled nose. He could tell the kid had been crying with how red and damp his cheeks were. The red cheeks brought our the gold specs of color in his eyes. 

“Um… I was… I was told to come to this station? I don’t know where I am…  or even where the train is going…,” the more the kid talked the more his lip quivered like he was going to start crying again. How do you comfort someone who is already dead? Does this kid even know that he is dead? “Can you help me?”

“Hate to break it to you but you know just as much as I do,” He knew that’s not what the kid wanted to hear but it was all he had. 

“Oh… well cou-could you tell me when my train comes? I have a ticket-”

Now Arriving Train #H34V317, Now Arriving Train #H34V317.

When Micah grabbed his ticket from his pocket, the kid looked down at his ticket, eyes widening realizing this was his train. The two locked eyes as their conversion continued in silence. The more he looked at the kid, the more he realized that he looked like the exact opposite of him; Micah had black, shoulder length hair, green eyes, fair-skinned, and from the looks of it about two feet taller if he were to stand up. Yet he could read every thought that was passing through the kid’s head, and he knew he was scared. The kid looked at his feet as his shoulders started to shrug up and down trying to hold back the tears he had just gotten ahold of. Micah knew what he needed to do. 

“Hey, come sit next to me. The train looks to be long and hasn’t slowed down yet,” without a second beat the kid ran into his side and began to stain his jacket with tears and sobs. Micah wasn’t sure what to do at first but gathered himself soon after.

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay lil’ man. Tell me, if you are going to soak my sleeve the least you can do is tell me your name.”

“Oh, right. I’m Johnny,” Johnny got up from Micah’s sleeve and wiped his tears with his own sleeve before clearing his throat to continue talking.

“My mom calls me John but I prefer Johnny.”

“Well it is nice to meet you Johnny. My mom calls me Michael but you can call me Micah.”

Once Micah said his name, Johnny grew a slight smile knowing he got to call him his nickname. He already seemed more relaxed and calm compared to their first interaction. His eyes started to well more tears.

“Hey it’s gonna be okay little dude, I promise. The worst of it is over”

“How do you know that? Do you know where we are or where we are going?”
Micah didn’t have an answer Johnny would want to hear. Johnny could tell he didn’t have an answer and wrapped his arm around his to curl up next to him. He also smelled of roses.

“Look I may not know what is out there but if you would like, I can go with you?”

“What do you mean by that? We are going on the same train…,” he looked down at Micah’s ticket, then to the entrance of the station. Johnny had the same thoughts he did.

“Yeah, but it is nice to not be alone on adventures like this. I could be your travel buddy so you have someone to sit next to if you’d like,” Johnny kept looking at the entrance doors, clearly not wanting to be on the train at all. He wanted to go back home.

“How about we make a deal? Wherever you go, I go. Things aren’t as scary if you have a friend with you.”

Hearing the word friend leave Micah’s mouth, Johnny looked up with a sense of acceptance Micah would have killed for in his life. His dimples showed up with the big smile Johnny gave Micah.

“Are you saying that we are friends?”

“Do you wanna be?”

Last Call for Train #H34V317, Last Call for Train #H34V317.

Johnny smiled, shook his head with excitement and ease. The dimples deepened into his cheeks, just like Micah’s.

“Alright then, you choose where we go. I got you, no matter what.”