The Passenger

I gasped, waking up in a cold sweat. My eyes still closed, I could feel a gnawing in the of my stomach. No pillow, no fleece throw tucked under my toes, just my warm cheek plastered to cool pleather. I noticed a low rhythmic hum, a vibration. I could feel it in my hands and my face where they made contact with the seat I was sprawled out on.

Where am I? It was as if the universe heard my question because in response to my thought, there was a startlingly loud whistle. A train? My eyes flew open. I bolted upright, heart racing, as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. I was completely alone in what appeared to be a fairly generic private accommodation on a train. The room had one small emergency LED bulb over the door giving off a very faint glow that did little to light to the room as a whole. There were two pleather benches facing one another with some very classically 80’s patterned carpet on the floor between them. The colors and design were uncannily similar to some of the Dixie cups kept in the bathroom of my childhood home.

As I tried to take in the details of the small space, I could feel my breath start to catch in my throat as my eyes started to sting. Crying won’t help. I repeated this to myself as I checked my pockets and the bench frantically; no cell phone. I fell to the floor looking under the seat and sticking my hands between the cushion and the crevice where it met the wall. My fingers landed in something sticky and I grazed the top of some wrappers, but still no phone. Patches of light kept darting by every few seconds from the window on the outside of the car. A slow and ominous strobe light, allowing me to see the very bland blue and cream of the bench in more detail. I was still moving my hand around blindly in the seat cushion praying I would touch the hard side of my phone case.

After spending what felt like ages searching, I accepted the loss and looked back at the window. I focused on the world flashing by outside of the train. It seemed to be traveling through some sort of tunnel, possibly underground. I got up and walked over to the pane to get a better view, trying to tread as lightly as I could in my worn leather sandals. I leaned my face against the glass, straining to get a glimpse of any landmarks that would help me get my bearings. I couldn’t see anything save a line of little lights dotting the cavernous walls surrounding the track that grew smaller and eventually disappeared out of sight.

Okay, pull yourself together, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up in a bad situation. You’ve been worse off. Now that I was starting to get my wits about me, I had so many questions. Why the fuck was I on a train? I’ve never even been to the train station downtown and I’ve certainly never ridden on a train. I don’t think the train at the zoo or the state fair count. I cracked a grin despite my panic as I remembered the comically small train I rode with my nephew years ago. I looked like a giant with my knees damn near touching my chin trying to sit in the toddler sized bench, but he didn’t want to ride alone. Okay focus, you need to get help, there has to be at least one other person here, right? I willed myself to leave the faint comfort of nostalgia and head towards the door that I assumed would lead me into the hallway.

I crossed the small room in just a few steps and pulled on the icy metal handle. It caught on the cheap aluminum track when it was about halfway open. Not wanting to fight the flimsy door on its old and weathered track, I turned sideways and shimmied through the narrow opening. Now in the hallway, I turned to my left and started walking to the front of the car. The hallway had the same feeling as an office building or school when the main power goes out and the eerie emergency lights kick on. In the dim interior, I tried to look for other passages but couldn’t detect any movement or sound besides the rumble of the engine and the tunnel flying by outside of the windows.

Seriously, what the fuck is going on. I struggled to focus on the last thing I could remember. It was raining as my comfort playlist was on in the car. Huge drops of water splattered across the windshield only to be met by the sweeping wipers, leaving smears across the glass. I slowed down as I pulled into the parking lot at the local Food Lion. I needed chicken and cucumbers for dinner and remember going to add those to the list I keep on my phone. I couldn't remember anything past that. So did I make it in the grocery store? Did I even make it out of my car? I had no answers. I looked down and felt comforted to see that at least my outfit was the same. My biggest and softest oversized tshirt, heather grey with a faded start pattern on the top and sleeves, the words on the front almost illegible at this point from constant washing and wear. I paired that with some generic jean shorts I couldn’t remember buying I’d had them for so long. I also inspected my arms and legs, they looked exceptionally pale in the minimal yellow tinted light. Even in the dark, I could tell I wasn’t injured. I shook my head and had to hope that eventually it would come back to me. I started walking slowly down the hall as I tried to conjure up any other memories of what happened.

I canvassed each small room before continuing on further down the hall to the next. All of them were dark and all of them were empty, not even a forgotten ticket or empty water bottle laying on the floor. It didn’t take long at all to reach the end of the car I was in. Should I go to the next car? I cupped my hands around my eyes and pressed the front of my sandals up against the metal door. It took me a second to adjust to the light as I looked out of the smudged window to determine if it was safe. My attention was immediately drawn to the window of the next car where I saw shadow pass by and disappear from view.

I gasped and immediately decided to give chase. In that moment the thought of losing my only chance at human connection was far worse than any consequences that might follow. Throwing caution to the wind, I swung open the train door to navigate the connection from one car platform to the next. The speed of the train and the motion of the tongues connecting the cars added a layer of danger, but I was well past being concerned for my safety. It really only took one leap of faith for me to leave one secure platform and make it to the next. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding when my fingers wrapped around a metal beam on the platform of the next car. I quickly peered inside the foggy window trying to catch a glimpse of whatever I saw just minutes ago. Nothing. I opened the door and stepped inside.

Right as I crossed the threshold there was a large metal clang and I was thrown to the ground. As the open palms of my hands made contact with the patchy carpet, I almost missed the sound of a door opening and closing up ahead. I snapped my head around and jumped to my feet. I might have more of a fight than flight complex than I thought. I took off running towards the sound. I flew by the other rooms in this car, not even trying to look for any other passengers at this point. I wasn’t about to let this person get away from me twice. I slowed down to catch my breath as I neared the end of the car. I questioned my sanity as I gulped in air, bent over, feeling the beads of sweat forming on the tops of my brows. I couldn’t fathom where they could have gone so quickly in an enclosed space like this. I looked up at the ceiling thinking there must be some sort of escape route, but only saw the dark, flat metal panel of the train car.

I felt a stinging in my eyes again as I continued looking. I was fighting a losing battle trying to hold back the tears begging to escape from the corners of my eyes. How could this be real? Am I dreaming? I mean, was I dreaming? Honestly, that felt so much more likely than whatever the hell was going on with this seemingly empty train hurtling to god knows where. I had no idea how I got here and no idea how to leave. I couldn’t stop a tear from escaping the corner of my eye as I slowly turned around. I decided to go back and check the rooms for anything that might be helpful before moving to the next car. While walking past the first few rooms, I noticed the door on the third room down was slightly ajar.

When I got to the room, I reached out to slide the door the rest of the way open and my finger grazed a piece of fabric caught on the rough edge of the handle. I pulled the scrap of fabric free and stretched it out with both hands to get a better look. The wrinkled grey fabric looked familiar with a barely visible faded star in the corner - this was my tshirt! I whipped around trying to see sleeve of my shirt, did it snag when I was running? I grabbed my sleeve and pulled it into view while feeling for any tears. It was fully intact. Since I was alone, I decided to pull my shirt off to make sure this was real. It only took a few seconds to line up the two materials and the fabric from the door handle was a perfect match to the edge of my completely unscathed the sleeve.

Okay, so someone has the same shirt as me, that’s not that weird. You only got this shirt at summer camp 12 years ago in Montana, it’s possible someone else worked there? I tried to stop my heart from racing as I slipped my shirt back over my head, tugging the bottom hem of my shirt back down. Still very concerned about the idea of someone in Georgia with the same camp shirt from 2010, I placed the fabric in the back pocket of my jeans. Still stunned, I turned my attention toward the front of the train car just in time to see someone close the door. This time I was able to see the person’s hand pulling the door shut behind them as they exited.

I bolted, heading straight for them and flung the same door wide open. I am not letting you get away this time. I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'll find you. I cleared the gap from my platform from my car to the next in record time and took a deep breath as I gripped the handle. I steadied myself before flinging open the door. Before I could get both feet firmly on the ground inside, I felt something crash into me and pin me down. I felt my head hit the hard floor as I struggled with my assailant. Flat on my back now, I looked up and froze.

“Oh shit,” I whispered as I realized I was looking up directly into a terrified pair of blue eyes.

I was too shocked to breathe, let alone speak. My attacker was a carbon copy of me. The freckle on her left ear like the one I have, the messy bun we both had squarely on the tops of our heads, the small tattoo peaking out of the shirt on her collar bone that matched mine perfectly.

“I’m so sorry,” my double said with a quivering voice, I could tell she’d been crying. “I can’t explain this to you, but I have to make it stop, this is the only way, I’m so sorry,” she babbled on as she pulled something tight around my neck.

I tried to get up, but she was kneeling on my arms and sitting on my chest. I gasped for air and writhed trying to throw her off, she she had caught me completely off guard with her attack. As seconds turned to a minute, my vision began to black out. I could feel tears streaming down the side of my face and pooling in my ears as well as tears from my raining down onto my cheeks and forehead. As I fought for consciousness, I saw the torn sleeve of her tshirt, missing the piece I had tucked in my back pocket. After one final attempt to buck her off of my body, I took notice of rug burn on the backs of my elbows and stopped moving them. I felt the train vibrating beneath me and it reminded me of my sound machine at home. Completely out of strength and air, I stopped fighting as everything faded to nothing.

* * *

I gasped, waking up in a cold sweat. I hadn’t opened my eyes yet, but even in the dark, I had a pit in my stomach. I began to feel a rhythmic rumbling in my hands and where my face was touching what I now assumed to be a bench. As I came to, I felt the bile climbing up my throat from my stomach, but managed to swallow. I was trembling all over. I began to rub my arms to calm myself down and my fingers brushed what felt to be a tear in my shirt. What do I have to do to leave? I couldn’t help it, I started sobbing as I got up to leave the small room I’d begun to hate. I walked down the hall to the end of the car and opened the door. The train was still speeding down the endless tunnel to nowhere. The wind blew the stray hairs from my bun into my eyes and lips. Tears streaming down my face, I committed to the only possible option left and stepped off of the platform with no intention to make it to the next car.