The Train To Elsewhere

The train to Elsewhere.

The train to Elsewhere was a story that was only ever told in a whisper, passed between disillusioned teenagers, or between white-collared workers tired of hearing their company’s growth while they felt like they’re shrinking.

It was said to be a train that only comes when it was needed, to those who arrived at the Glenburrow Station with nothing left to lose. It was said that the air seems to heat up as it arrived, even on the dark, snowy nights that marked much of the winter. It was said that upon seeing the train for themselves, some tried to change their minds, but could not bring themselves to leave, could not do anything but walk inside.

For once the train decided that it was needed, it would never back down.

But those were just stories. Just whispers between those stuck in a strange place of a want to disappear and a fear of disappearing for good.

Who would possibly try to see if these stories were true? Who would risk never being able to return, just for some story which no one would even raise their voice to tell?

I found myself at the Glenburrow Station on a typical snowy night, the wind piercing like knives through the tears which rolled down my face. Before me, the platform sat eerily still, with not another person in sight.

Why did I come here? I couldn’t remember.

My mind focused on listening to a far-off whistle.

Was it curiosity? Desperation?

The buzzing in my ears reminded me of yells and screams surrounding me at one point, but they were so far off, like a distant memory even though I knew it couldn’t have been that distant.

There was no ticket clutched in my hand, but my body kept telling me to step on the first train that I saw. To just get far, far away from whatever had just happened.

What did happen?

I didn’t have much time to ponder upon the question, as a sudden burst of light blinded me.

In front of me, a train rolled to a stop.

Did I lose focus just as it got close to the station? It didn’t matter. My feet were already moving toward the train, and its exterior gave a welcoming, almost opalescent glow in the weak light of the station.

Somewhere from behind me, I could hear voices that started distant, but quickly grew louder.

Max.

That was the word they kept yelling. My name.

Someone was calling for me, as if begging me to turn back, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. My decision had already been made, and I had never been the kind of person to go back on a decision. And even if I wanted to, there was only so much time that the doors would stay open, and they shut with a definite thud before I could even turn around.

I would get to be one with the train and my thoughts for a while, whether they liked it or not.

The train was a weird, lukewarm sort of temperature, a little too warm for it to be normal, but a welcome change from the outside. Like a blanket, almost, except I was still completely aware that I was wearing short sleeves.

Around me, row after row of empty seats stretched out through the cabin, all as hard and uncomfortable and sterile as in any sort of short-distance train I had been on before. Even the floor looked more comfortable than the chairs themselves.

But I wouldn’t actually lie down on the floor, right? The floor was probably absolutely disgusting, even if it looked strangely spotless, and someone could come into the cabin at any moment and see me lying there. They’d probably think I’m on some sort of drug.

Though, I had to admit, with the way that my head pounded, my vision blurring a slight bit in a way that I hadn’t noticed before, it wouldn’t be the most heinous of assumptions.

Looking up, I spotted the screen that was there on every train, always lit up with important information in obnoxiously red letters. The only issue, though, was that it was broken. Stuck. On the screen stayed a single word, no matter how long I looked:

Elsewhere.

The train to Elsewhere. That couldn’t be right. Though, between the fact that I couldn’t quite remember anything and my ability to perceive the world growing worse by the second, nothing really seemed quite right. A train to a place that doesn’t really exist honestly wasn’t the worst thing, especially if that meant there would be no one else on board.

The stories never spoke of other passengers, right?

I laid down on the floor.

Music played from some choppy speaker planted into the ceiling. Some old music, like the stuff my dad always played when I was young. The music was almost recognizable, like something from an old Jimmy Buffett album, but I couldn’t quite place my mind on what the song name was.

That didn’t stop me from shutting my eyes and thinking about it for much longer than I needed to, though.

“Everything okay down there?”

The only thing that broke my line of thought was the voice of someone else over me. The voice was clearer than anything else around me and rang in my ears with a sharpness that made its source seem closer than they really were.

I opened my eyes and met the gaze of some guy in a blue, puffy jacket.

“It’s more comfortable than the seats,” I said, and despite all the lessons on not trusting strangers, I beckoned him to sit next to me. “I was starting to think I wasn’t going to see anyone here.”

Thankfully, the guy also decided to ignore the lessons of ‘stranger danger’ too and didn’t even hesitate to sit down. “That’s what I thought, too, but then the train stopped.” He shrugged and leaned back against his hands. “It’s the only time it’s stopped so far, actually.”

“Are we dead?” Not the nicest question to ask, but it came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I wracked through my memories to try to sort through stories of the fabled train, which were hidden somewhere in the fog that settled in my pained mind.

“Well, I’d certainly hope not. To know that death wouldn’t even redye my hair for me? Rude.” He laughed and he ran his fingers through hair that might’ve been green once, but was now a weird shade of yellow. “The name’s Flynn.”

“Max.” I looked away from Flynn the ceiling, and a wave of pain ran through my head. Where was this pain even coming from? I couldn’t remember hitting my head on anything, and I rarely got migraines. “How long will we even be on here for?”

“No clue.” Flynn took off his jacket and laid all the way down. “One moment, I was trying to take a walk to calm down after an argument with my family, the next moment, I’m on this stupid train. Must’ve been on here for hours already.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because I’m starving.” He looked over at me and grinned before a look of nervousness flashed over his face. “You don’t think we’ll actually starve to death in here, right?”

“We’d die of thirst beforehand.” My eyes fluttered shut on me, but I fought to keep them open. “Or, well, we’ll find out where exactly ‘Elsewhere’ is.”

“Better be somewhere where I can get my hair redyed.”

I opened my mouth to say something, probably to crack some sort of joke, but apparently, I was more exhausted than I thought back on the platform, and the darkness of sleep quickly consumed me.

Wake up.

I wasn’t not sure how long I had been asleep for when I felt the words. Not heard. Felt. No one said them, but I understood them. Just as I understood the pressure pressing against my chest.

Wake up.

I couldn’t wake up. I didn’t know how. But the pressure kept mounting and interrupted my breathing. I couldn’t pull myself out of the darkness.

Wake. Up.

I shot up before I recognized my surroundings and yelled out in pain between sputtered breaths. Something, or someone, grabbed at my shoulders, and before I could realize that it was Flynn trying to comfort me, I swung my arm out toward his face.

“Ow!”

“Oh, shit, sorry, I forgot,” I said, though I still struggled to breathe properly. Even when my breath evened out, the slight pressure against my chest made itself known. “Nightmare, I think.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” Flynn rubbed his cheek before he reached over, picked something off of my lap and wrapped it around me.

His jacket. It brought a warmth that was more comforting than the stickiness of the train car. I relaxed my shoulders and my mind enough to notice the song playing through the choppy speakers.

“Before you ask, you’re not hearing things,” he said. “This thing’s been playing the same song this whole time. Like, ‘Come Monday’ isn’t a bad song, but it’s not the only song that exists.”

“I knew it was Buffett.” I was able to smile a bit at that, smile a bit at the strangeness of everything that was terrifying and comforting at the same time. “Has the train stopped?”

“No.”

“Great.” I crossed my legs and resigned myself to the idea that we weren’t getting off any time soon. “So, you’ve got anything to talk about?”

For a while, we talked about our families. How we always swore that we loved them, and yet felt so disconnected from them at the same time.

Flynn’s parents were always up his ass about getting a good job after his brother got kicked out of college. They didn’t need to help his brother, but they insisted on doing so, even though they were almost expecting Flynn to foot some of the bill.

Around us, the air slowly grew warmer.

My parents were loving to me. Almost too loving. I had been the kid that could do no wrong, and for most of my life, that was true. But now, they wouldn’t admit that I was falling to pieces, between falling in with a bad crowd through my college roommate and my energy and motivation to even get out of bed slipping away.

Had I been arguing with my parents before going to the station? No, it was my roommate and one of their friends. It had been about money. Or a favor. I couldn’t remember all of it.

A thick fog encapsulated the room, but it seemed to form a bubble around the two of us. I didn’t pay it any mind.

Flynn went to college out of state, but he was home for winter break, just about thirty minutes north from me. I had stayed at the local college, mostly because I had been terrified of leaving home. Part of me wished I hadn’t been so terrified. But, still, it was funny, to realize that our high schools were major rivals in just about every sport.

Not that either of us really played sports in high school. I had been a theater kid, and Flynn had done all of the mock trial and model government activities he could find, despite hating the idea of becoming a lawyer. He was just bad at math and thought that the only “good” job that he could get would have to be in law.

It was when the song sped up that I finally realized something was off. “Something’s happening.”

I didn’t pay much mind to the warmth or the fog, but instead focused in on the sign that still blazed the word ‘Elsewhere’ in bright red letters. Every so often, it flickered, just enough for me to notice. As instinctively as it had been to step onto the train in the first place, I stood and walked toward the sign, staring up at it through the strange fog.

“Max?” Flynn’s voice was distant.

The blood rushed through my ears, almost sounding like that stereotypical idea of how a train sounds when it begins to speed up. I braced myself slightly, but I still stared up at the sign, which was flickered faster. Elsewhere. Elsewhere. Elsewhere.

Somewhere.

“It changed.” My voice was barely a whisper, mostly from a new pressure building in my chest, from the inside this time.

It wasn’t like someone suffocating me, it was like those times where my roommate would come back drunk and beat, followed by someone cursing at him to give them money or something. The feeling that I needed to run. But I couldn’t run.

“Max, where are you?” Flynn’s voice was even more distant, but I couldn’t turn away to find him, couldn’t even say anything to help him find me.

The sign was flickered again, and the train accelerated.

Did we miss Elsewhere? Were we heading home?

My legs buckled underneath me, but something held me up and forced me to stand. To watch. Somewhere. The sign kept flickering. Somewhere. Red. Somewhere. Green.

My vision swirled with different colors. Too many colors.

The song moved faster, too fast to even hear the soft voice of Jimmy Buffett sing the old song for the millionth time. The train was moving too fast. The colors were moving too fast.

Green. Red. Somewhere. Monday. Purple. Elsewhere. Blood. Flynn. Yellow. Somewhere. Flickering. Accelerating. Green. Red. Blue. Everything. Elsewhere. Flynn. Somewhere. Flynn. Where? Fog. Speaker. Red. Yellow. Purple. Everything. Somewhere.

Somewhere.

Somewhere.

Somewhere.

HERE.

Nothing.

As soon as I came to, my stomach lurched and spilled out contents that I didn’t even realize were still in there. I was on my side, and the vomit stuck to my face. My head pounded. I could barely lift it for a few moments, even as I heard a newly-familiar voice.

“Max?” Flynn.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked over as best as I could at him.

He was probably about five feet away from me, kneeling on the ground and holding his shoulder. Dried blood was smeared across his face, concentrating around his nose. His eyes, even from where I was, looked distant, looking through a cloud of tears and sweat.

“You look like shit.” I could barely speak, and yet that was what I decided to say. How typical.

But, at least, Flynn smiled and made his way toward me.

“I’m guessing you haven’t looked in a mirror yet,” he said. As he got next to me, Flynn helped me up to my knees and wiped vomit off of my face.

For the first time since I entered the train, I shivered, even though I was wearing Flynn’s jacket now.

“The door’s open.” Flynn gently held my face. “We need to get out of here.”

All I could really do was nod. The two of us staggered to our feet and hobbled toward the door. Outside, it was incredibly dark, but the darkness was welcome in comparison to the sensory mess I had just dealt with.

I checked the red sign one more time. Elsewhere. In the obnoxious red.

It was a welcome sign, in a terrifying way.

“Time to see what Elsewhere is,” Flynn said. His voice mixed in my mind with the return of Jimmy Buffett’s singing crackling through the speakers. “And hopefully never listen to a Jimmy Buffett song again.”

“That sounds reasonable.” But not comforting. I leaned closer to Flynn, and not just because I needed the support to walk.

We both paused at the doors for a second, before Flynn wrapped his arm around me, and together we plunged into the darkness.

To Elsewhere.