The Night Train
There was only darkness, besides my conjuring thoughts of world inquiries placating my allayed mind. The evening stars had ventured far into the expanse of dusk and slept alongside the weeping moon, full and wan.
Resting my head amongst the glass window, my aunt at my side, I pondered of our earlier adventures that lead our day to its end.
Buying books at a local store, chuckling whilst recalling past experiences as we fueled our ravenous stomachs, and then proceeding towards home in silence.
The thin trills of melodies rang in our ears from the radio like warbled voices of morning birds. Though I paid no heed to the nonchalant tunes and could only stare pensively at the world outside.
Ah, what a beautiful night it was.
Though upon passing over a railroad track I halted my breath.
Light.
A peculiar light in which took to the other end of the metal path began to blind my senses and run my body cold.
“There was once a girl in my school whom-”
No, I thought.
Such couldn’t happen to me.
It was only coincidence, wasn’t it?
I was not to die as she had.
That was simply a story that my aunt had reminisced grimly upon on one of our nightly drives.
The story of the high school girl whom died from impact of a running train.
This was where she was killed, she said.
My stomach lurched. I was paralyzed from the thought of a train ramming and pressing into my body, from the idea of my life being claimed, from the accident flashing on the news like a red banner, from the departure and anguish I might leave to my family.
I could no longer move.
Though, with a summed strength I could not comprehend, I cried, “THE TRAIN!”
With eyes locked in a sudden fear and hands now gripping the wheel as if a lifeline, she deepened her foot on the pedal and sped across the track before it could hit.
Upon continuing our route home, the silence filled with our concern of the incident that could of happened, my heart fleeting with an inexplicable adrenaline, sped with relief knowing I could return safe.
I was reminded of my waning life and dangers the openness of the world posed that day, as well as that I was indeed alive.
(Note: Though such may not pose an immediate threat or perhaps wasn't nearly too intense as described (Though it most certainly felt like such to me), truly this incident brought to mind of both the chaste and malice in living.)