Train Trip

The whiteness is overwhelmingly beautiful. The sensations of floating, weightless, safe and cocooned, my body humming with energetic vibrations; I am falling and I feel nothing and everything at once.

I woke suddenly to a lurch and a loud bang. Drenched in sweat, my body ached and my head pounded. I stood up immediately, surveying my surroundings and realised I was in a small, cramped bathroom. The room was spinning.

I must have passed out on the ground again, I thought. A hint of shame crept over me.

“What have I done now?” I murmured. I wasn't sure if I was hungover or still high. My head spun. Where was my girlfriend? Surely she hadn't left me here.

Vague snippets of memories from the night before infiltrated my thoughts- my girlfriend crying and yelling at me in the nightclub. I remembered vomiting in the bathroom and a sense of falling.

What a disgrace you are Jasper, I reminded myself of what she had said to me, countless times.

I touched my face and felt for injuries, which I usually had after a big night out. I spun around and looked into the bathroom mirror. On the top of my cheek were dark bruises and another on my forehead. Dried blood had caked against my face, and looking down, I saw more blood where I'd been lying on the white floor.

I patted my pockets urgently, feeling for my phone. Nothing. My back pockets were empty too. Where was my wallet? My phone? My coke? There was nothing in my pockets at all. I searched again, each one meticulously. Not even spare change. Nothing. My watch was missing from my left arm. Had I been robbed? I stared in the mirror again.

Why do you do this to yourself? I thought. Idiot!

The room felt as if it were moving. Of course, it dawned on me. My girlfriend Stella and I had taken acid last night. I was tripping. Calm down, I told myself, you're good.

I'd been a drug addict since I was 16, and I knew how to handle this. I was 28 and Stella and I were in a vicious cycle of getting clean and then relapsing. I'd met her in rehab a year ago. Where was she? I wondered.

“Stella?” I called out. I was embarrassed, reluctant to come out of the bathroom, hoping we weren't at a random person's house again, or god forbid, still in the nightclub. It didn't make sense. But then, nothing did when you were tripping. There was no answer and I couldn't hear any voices at all. I listened at the door. All I could hear was a humming, rattling sound and I felt dizzy.

At the sink, I splashed cold water over my face and tried to rub off the blood. I didn't recall the nightclub bathroom looking anything like this strange, tiny room and I admitted to myself that I had no idea where I was. I needed a line of coke badly. Or a drink.

Carefully, I opened the door and trying to keep my balance, I looked up. I stared out of a window and everything was moving, whipping past in a blur, turning my stomach. The light blinded me, and I cursed, shielding my eyes with my arm. I staggered towards the toilet, losing my balance and toppling over. Reaching up, I grabbed the toilet bowl and heaved into it, vomiting violently. Where was I? I felt myself starting to panic but I told myself to calm down, trips never last. Get it together.

I became more aware of the floor beneath me. It felt like the entire room was moving, with me along with it. Trying to regain my composure, I walked out of the bathroom again, towards the window slowly, allowing my eyes to adjust. To my disbelief, I realised I was looking out the window of a moving train. The landscape I was staring at was heavily covered with snow, blanketing a thick and foreboding forest of trees.

“What the hell?” I said out loud. How did I get on a train? And where was I going? Stella and I lived in the city. We sometimes caught trains but never out into the country. I struggled to understand. I looked down each direction of the carriage. I'd never even been out of the city.

“Stella?” I called again, louder this time, fear starting to set in.

I was used to waking up in weird places, but this was next level. What if something had happened to Stella? How long had I been sleeping? Trying to maintain my balance as the train clattered along, I began to walk along the carriage. There was no sign of life. Behind me, I heard the next carriage door close. I quickly walked back in that direction and opened the door, hoping to catch up to the person that had just exited.

A man shuffled quietly ahead, his back to me. “Excuse me,” I called, aware that my voice sounded rough and coarse from dehydration.

He stopped and paused, but didn't turn around. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I'm just trying to find my girlfriend...”

I reached out to the nearest chair, bracing myself as the train continued along the tracks, turning a sharp bend, creating a loud clanking sound.

The man still didn't move, seemingly unaffected by the swaying and rocking of the train.

I continued awkwardly, “To be honest, I'm not really sure what train we are on...and I'm just wondering if you have seen my girlfriend at all? She has blonde hair and tattoos on her neck...her name is Stella...” I trailed off.

The man slowly began to turn around. He looked me up and down. He shuffled towards me, strange tiny steps, eyes lowered and hands clasped together. He was short and bald, dressed in an old, vintage style, light blue matching suit. As he reached me, he looked up into my eyes.

I was taken aback by his dull, filmy eye. It appeared as a dead feature on his face, just simply existing. It stared off into nothing. His other eye was beady and narrow, as he looked at me curiously, with a faint, absent grin. Saliva dribbled slowly down his chin and dry crusts sat in the corners of his mouth. He stood so close, that I could smell a heavy, musty stench.

Fighting the urge to recoil in shock at his appearance and smell, I stood my ground, reminding myself that I was high on drugs, bruised, stinking of sweat and alcohol, and I was hardly in a position to judge.

He slowly lifted his hand, pointing directly at my face. I noticed his fingernails were bloodied and damaged, some even completely missing from his hand.

I raised my hands to show I wasn't looking for any trouble.

“Sorry to disturb you, it's alright...I'll figure it out and..” I stumbled over my words.

He opened his mouth, and laughed maniacally, displaying a black, gaping hole, devoid of teeth and emanating a stinking, rotten smell.

“You're never getting out of here!” he spat wildly, shaking with laughter.

I stepped back immediately, staring at the man in horror. I wasn't in the right state of mind for this.

I turned and quickly swung the carriage door open, not able to get away from the man quickly enough. As I slammed it behind me, he continued to laugh, louder and louder, out of control. I started running back to the bathroom, shocked by the disturbing encounter.

I slammed the bathroom door behind me and locked it, breathing heavily, my mind racing. What the hell is going on? I drank water from the faucet, staring at myself in the mirror. My pupils were huge. I'd really messed up this time. I held my hands over my eyes, shaking my head wildly. Get it together!

I could still hear the man laughing faintly and then he began to bang on the wall, slowly, methodically- thump, thump, thump, like a heartbeat. I covered my ears and lowered myself to the ground, sitting with my back against the locked door.

It's just a trip, I said to myself, it's not even real. It's not even real.

****

Some time must have passed and I awoke with a start, immediately annoyed that I had fallen asleep again. The air was darker and cooler. I was still sitting against the door and the train beneath me continued its journey. I felt slightly more clear-headed but the withdrawals were starting to hit me hard. I listened carefully for the crazy man on the train. I heard only silence.

I just had to find Stella, and get off this train so we could go home and sort ourselves out. Sleep it off and laugh and get high again. I felt a sudden pang, I really cared for Stella and I desperately hoped she was ok. Feeling more confident, I opened the door, scanning the carriages for any sign of that disgusting, putrid little man.

I'll knock him out if I see him again, I thought to myself.

Wandering along the carriage, I looked out the windows. The sun had set and it was almost dark, but I could see that the train was definitely travelling along in snow-covered fields. I racked my brain, where would I be that it's snowing? Nowhere near the city, that's for sure. Where the hell am I?

I scanned the walls as I passed, looking for a timetable or any type of signage. There were no other passengers in the carriage. The fluorescent lights started to flicker on, casting light into each carriage.

Opening the door to the next carriage, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair. “Stella!” I called out, but she disappeared through the next door.

I started to run and suddenly I knocked over a piece of luggage that had been protruding from under one of the seats. I turned around and saw an elderly lady sitting on the seat.

“I'm sorry,” I said, quickly putting the small suitcase back into place. She looked cold and grey, with a thin shrivelled body and I noticed a strange smell. She reached her trembling hand up towards me and began to cry, silent tears trickling down her wrinkly, aged skin.

“Oh, ma'am,” I said, “I am so sorry...I didn't break anything, it's all fine, see?” I gestured down at her bag.

“Help..” she said in a low, tormented voice, “Help me.”

I crouched down and touched her outstretched hand reluctantly.

“What is it?” I asked as I pulled back slightly from her icy cold, grey hand. “Do you need a blanket or something?”

She didn't answer but continued to cry. I felt terrible and helpless.

“Listen, I'm just about to go find my girlfriend but I'll ask one of the attendants for some help, alright?” I assured her.

She smelt as though she had soiled herself and that wasn't something that I could help with. “I'll get them to bring some blankets and something to eat if you like?”

She stared forward and stopped crying abruptly, her eyes staring off into the distance out the window at the snow, smiling.

I backed away slowly, she didn't turn to acknowledge me at all. What is it with this train, I thought? It's like a goddamn horror movie.

I ran along the aisle of the carriage, trying to catch up to Stella. She must be looking for me too, I realised. I opened the next door, expecting to see her.

The carriage was empty. Is this some kind of joke? I almost laughed out loud in frustration. This is getting ridiculous! I could feel myself getting agitated and my hands were shaking from withdrawals. My shirt had become damp with excessive perspiration and I wiped my face in frustration.

“Stella!” I yelled loudly, not caring who was disturbed by it. I turned around, crouching down to see what was outside. The train travelled through a snow-covered forested area and we seemed to be going slightly uphill. It didn't appear that the train was slowing at all, in fact, it seemed to have gathered momentum.

I entered the next carriage with more force, wrenching the door open. Upon finding it empty, I cursed and hit the wall with my fist out of sheer frustration. Where is this train going and why are we in the middle of nowhere? My mind was racing.

I noticed a bathroom in that carriage so I checked inside it, but Stella was nowhere to be found. In the basin, I saw thick blood spatters.

“What the hell?” I said, walking backwards, away from the basin. Something is very, very wrong here, I thought. I turned quickly, planning to get to the front cabin of the train and alert someone.

Something grabbed my elbow, and I spun around, my fists up to protect myself out of habit. It was a little boy. “I'm lost,” he said.

Relieved, I leaned down towards him and said, “Hey, buddy, sorry about that. You scared me. You're lost?” He nodded and looked down, seemingly terrified. “Hey, it's ok. I'm actually lost too, you know.” I laughed awkwardly in an attempt to make him feel better.

“Can you tell me where this train is going?” I asked.

The boy shook his head and stared at the ground.

“You must know. When you got on the train, where did your parents say you were going?” I pressed urgently. “Were you going to visit a relative? Or maybe you always take this train home or something?”

“I'm lost,” he repeated.

“Yeah buddy, I know you're lost and so am I, so maybe you could help us both out?” I said, my agitation getting the better of me, my voice taking on a harsh tone.

He did not respond. Where were all the train attendants? I wondered to myself. I patted my pockets again, suddenly registering that if I had boarded this train then I would have a ticket. Even though I had already searched, I patted myself down again, frantically.

“Do you have a ticket?” I asked the boy, “Can you check your pockets?” He stared at me blankly. He had dull sunken eyes, and pale, papery skin. “Please? You must have a ticket?” I glanced around and knelt down. As calm as I could, I gestured for him to empty his pockets. "Show me, please?" He looked down vacantly, and as he pulled out his pockets, I noticed bruises and deep scrape marks all along his arms. Out of shock and alarm, I pulled his sleeves up and held him by the wrists. “Who did this to you?” I demanded.

To my horror, I spotted needle marks. He pulled his arms back and began to cry loudly. He turned and ran from me, screaming frantically and out of control, “I'm lost, I'm lost!”

“Hey! I'm trying to help you, ok?” I called out and started to follow him, but became conscious that it probably wasn't in my best interests to be seen pursuing a hurt, crying child. He pulled open the door and ran into the next carriage, the door loudly slamming shut behind him.

I didn't know what to do. My head was spinning. Quickly, I pulled my own sleeves up, looking closely at my arms. My arms were covered in tattoos but the bruising and the red needle marks were unmistakable. I sat down on the nearest chair, feeling as though I was going to faint.

I used drugs but I had never, ever used needles. Someone has done this to us, it dawned on me. I was in danger. Stella was in danger!

I jumped up and burst into the next carriage, finding nothing. I continued, quickly searching through each carriage, becoming more and more alarmed at the silence and emptiness. Finally, I reached the front cabin, where the driver and staff should be. The door was bolted and a sign displayed “Staff – Authorised Entry Only.”

I banged frantically on the door, “Help, please! There's an injured child..and an old lady...” I banged on the door louder and louder.

The train rattled along and continued its uphill journey, making my stomach lurch. There was no sound from inside the front cabin. I put my ear up to the door, listening intently. I could hear nothing but the hum of the train.

“This is bullshit!” I yelled angrily, “Open the door! There are injured people on this train!” My adrenaline and anger were rising.

“Open the door now, or I'm going to kick the damn thing in!” I threatened. The unrelenting and infuriating silence from inside the cabin caused a surge of rage within me and I kicked the door violently, over and over, fear and anger taking hold of me.

The door remained bolted and I looked around wildly, spotting an emergency hammer enclosed in safety glass, mounted on the wall. I ran over to it, pausing only to read the sign “Break glass in emergency.” With my elbow, I smashed the glass and pulled the hammer from its mount. An alarm began to sound, and I paused, waiting for staff to rush out from somewhere on the train.

Where is everyone? I thought, waiting for a minute before returning to the front cabin door and I stood, listening again. Suddenly the alarm switched off and the train returned to silence. Someone had to have turned that off, I realised. There must be others on the train. Someone has to be driving it.

I called out hesitantly, momentarily losing my nerve, “I'm going to force the door open if you don't respond.”

You're gonna get yourself arrested again Jasper, I told myself, you're probably still tripping. I realised that I would prefer to spend the entire night in jail than spend another moment on this hellish train. With that in mind, I brought the hammer down over the door bolt, hitting it again and again until the bolt broke and dropped to the ground.

I pushed open the door and to my horror, the whole cabin sat empty and eerily quiet, the driver's seat perched ominously, unmanned. I stared out the train window, the headlights shining into the brilliant white snow that seemed to reach every part of the terrain, including the tracks.

I suddenly felt very, very alone. “This is impossible,” I uttered. “What kind of nightmare is this?” I spotted the radio and immediately noticed a large, encased red button. “Emergency call,” I read out loud. I flipped open the case and pressed the button. The radio switched on. “Help, please help!” I yelled frantically. “Can anyone hear me?”

I was met with nothing but strange radio static, like white noise. I pressed it repeatedly, pleading for help. The static continued, followed by complete dead air. I looked around again, spotting the emergency stop brakes lever, and pulled it hard, immediately bracing myself for the train to respond and begin slowing down.

Instead, the train turned a sharp bend and began to climb further uphill into what appeared to be dangerous mountainous terrain, all covered in thick, white snow. I fell backwards, catching hold of one of the safety rails on the wall.

“This isn't happening,” I whispered. I put the hammer in my back pocket. Stella must be hiding somewhere, I thought. I had to find her.

I began to run again, calling out her name, back through each carriage, passing rows and rows of eerie empty seats, lit up by the fluorescent lights.

A patch of fluids and blood covered the chair where the elderly lady had been sitting, and I gasped in fear, looking around me wildly. Oh my God, this can't be happening, I thought. I immediately pulled out the hammer from my back pocket. I needed to find Stella and the little boy! I passed by the bathroom that I had originally found myself in, checking it quickly. I raised the hammer before entering the next carriage that the disgusting strange man had been in, walking slowly and carefully, trying to maintain my balance, aware the train was still on an incline.

He was nowhere to be seen and I made my way through. My senses were heightened through fear and hypervigilance, and I became aware of a smell, the aroma of hot food drifting throughout the carriages.

Carefully, I made my way through the doors into what appeared to be a lounge and dining carriage. Relieved, and quickly hiding the hammer behind me, I called out, “Hello? Is anyone there? I need help, please!”

But the room was empty. Half-eaten plates of food sat on tables and in the bar area. Glasses and mugs cluttered the tables, sliding backwards as the train continued its hellish journey, the steady humming of a train that seemed it would never stop.

“No, no, no...” I uttered, slumping down into a nearby seat and putting my head in my hands.

Abruptly, the fluorescent lights flickered off, and I was plunged into darkness. “No, no, no...” I continued, seized with panic. I gripped the hammer tightly. I realised with a start that I had no idea what time or day it was or how long I had been on the train. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and I could see on each door, the only source of light was each “Exit” sign.

My heart pounded in my chest, feeling as though it was going to explode. Thump, thump, thump, I heard coming from the next carriage. The rhythmic, slow pounding from earlier on. My stomach dropped and a chill went through me. That horrible man was at it again. I needed to confront him, I thought, he had to be the madman behind all of this.

I stood and made my way to the next exit, the light from the sign spilling out a bluish hue. I held the hammer up, ready to use it.

I burst into the next cabin, spotting the repulsive man in the shadows just near the door. I lunged at him and we crashed to the ground. He was weak and doughy beneath me and he stared up at me with his dead, dull eye, breathing heavily. He smelt as if he was rotting from the inside out.

I put the hammer against his forehead, “What have you done? Tell me why you are doing this?!” I threatened him, “Or I'll beat your head to a bloody pulp.”

He began to laugh, that grotesque, humourless, monotonous laugh drilling into my head. “Tell me what is going on! Where's the little boy? Where is my girlfriend?”I screamed at him, pushing the hammer hard against his forehead, my hands shaking with rage.

“We're all stuck here,” his voice was raspy and breathless, but he continued to smile.

“What do you mean? Who’s we? Tell me what is happening!” I raged, shaking him.

He began to laugh again but it turned into a soundless shudder, his body beginning to convulse. He began to violently thrash, as if in a seizure. I backed away as his mouth started to foam, leaking with saliva and yellowish mucous and fluids. He made gasping and choking sounds, his eyes bulging and turning blood red.

I turned and fled, almost blindly in the darkness, finally breaking down from the horror of what was going on around me. I hid in the next carriage, clutching the hammer and sitting in between a row of seats, my back to the wall. I shook uncontrollably, rocking back and forth. I sobbed without tears. My mind was not able to process all that was happening. This can't be real, this can't be real, I told myself. The exit sign cast a dim blue light around the door as the train rumbled on, faster.

Shock had set in and I wrapped my arms around my body. Coward, I told myself. I sat for a long time in the darkness, listening intently over the continuous hum and rattle of the train. Time passed and I restlessly drifted in and out of sleep.

****

In the distance, I heard a faint voice. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Had I been dreaming? I listened, holding my breath. “Jasper.” I jumped up clumsily, stiff from sitting in such a cramped position, every muscle of my body ached. It was Stella! She called my name again, “Jasper, I'm here.”

“Stella! I'm coming!” I yelled and made my way carefully through the darkness into the next carriage, and then the next. I felt a rush of cold air. “Stella! Where are you?” I could feel from the movement that I was close to the back carriage of the train.

I burst through the doors of the last carriage, which was completely lit up by the harsh fluorescent lights, cold air blasted through from the swinging open back door of the train. Snow was falling softly inside of the carriage.

Directly in front of me stood a tall conductor, in full uniform. Behind him, Stella sat against the wall, perched on a bench seat. She had been crying and she looked up at me, but she did not react.

“Stella! Thank God!” I said, relieved but confused as to why she had not jumped up to greet me or even acknowledged me. She wiped her eyes and nose with a tissue and looked down.

“What is going on? What have you done?” I eyed the conductor, sizing him up, and tightening my grip on the hammer. It didn't appear to bother him in the slightest. He crossed his arms comfortably, seemingly at ease. On the chest of his uniform was an embroidered name tag that read “Willis.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on,” I said shakily, feeling a fleeting moment of recognition.

“It's alright Jasper, your family is here. Good man.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook violently, not comprehending what was happening. How does this man know my name, I thought. Suddenly, I was falling, looking up at the dazzling white ceiling. There was an unshakeable recognition in my panic. Darkness washed over me again.

****

My eyes refused to open but I became aware of a faint voice speaking over the train's PA. A man spoke quietly and calmly. “Due to the catastrophic brain injury he sustained that night from the fall, following the drug-induced psychosis, I'm afraid it's not a good prognosis." The distant voice had grown louder and it seemed to be in the same room as me now.

The voice continued, "While there is some brain activity from time to time, and we've noted that his eyes sometimes open, I believe that it's just the body's reflexes, from the seizures he continues to have. The anticonvulsants aren't doing their job anymore. It's really just the machines keeping him alive. It's been two weeks and I know what a difficult decision this has been for you both.”

Confusion gave way to memories, and I struggled to hold on to them. The nightclub. What had I done? I remembered stairs, a sense of invincibility, and the dreadful feeling of falling and hitting the ground with a sickening thud, Stella screaming over and over.

I heard my mother's voice, thick with sadness. “Thank you, Dr Willis. Thank you for everything you've done. I think we're ready.” I heard Stella begin to cry, her voice was muffled and she murmured in agreement. Why was my mother here? I thought. I hadn't seen her in years. And what were they talking about? My mind felt foggy and drugged. I tried to speak but my mouth wouldn't open. Desperately, I tried to reach out but my arm wouldn’t move, nor would my eyes open.

I felt warm hands on mine and wet tears against my face. My mother sobbed quietly and patted my hair back, as she did when I was little. Stella whispered in my ear, “I love you.”

I am dreaming I realise, and I am dying.

Thump, thump, thump, I hear. It's my own heartbeat. It becomes slower and slower and finally, it stops.

All I see is white. White hospital ceilings, white snow, blurring into each other, soft but brilliant. It overtakes the darkness. Reality fades into dreams.

The whiteness is breathtakingly beautiful; I have opened the doorway to my soul and climbed inside; I am elevated in the most pure sense of being.

“Time of death, 12:15,” Dr Willis' voice trails off, and there was no more train and no more darkness.