Tracks.

Based on a true story on the morning on September 17, 2009.

I awoke with a start, jerking my right hand downwards. As a result, the headphones connected to the wire wrapped around my fingers ripped out of my ears. They dropped and hung around my neck, the familiar cold aluminum tingle hitting my flesh. I rubbed my eyes, and looked around me, slightly unaware of my surroundings.

Nothing. The train carriage was empty, not a soul in sight. No sound except for a distance whistle coming from the left, outside the shaded window. I noticed parked trains outside the window, stationary.

I got up, alarmed. Holstering my backpack onto my shoulders, I ran down the upper hall and slid down the stairs, turning a hairpin and arriving at the train sliding doors. Closed, both sides. The lower compartment was just as empty as the upper one. I reached out to the left door, closest to my fingers. Wrapping my digits around the rubber padding, I pulled.

Locked. I tripped as I swiftly moved to the right door, taking 3 steps. Locked as well. Frustrated, I banged the door. As expected, that method did not seem to unlock the exit either. I attempted to pull the door apart again. The right slider opened a bit, about 3 inches. Relief poured over me, I pulled further. Nothing. I attempt the left slider. It also moved 3 inches and stayed put. Jabbing my white shoe (with foot attached) in the opening, I pulled apart the door with both hands, creating a sizable 5 or 6 inch gap. The sliders resisted greatly, I struggled to keep them open as I stuck my head out of the gap and looked around. The sun pierced my eyes as I looked both directions. The only thing I saw were train compartments, left and right, proceeding onwards forever. Ahead of me was another train. The ground was gravel, I noticed the tracks were rusted and looked forlorn. My muscles cried, I finally slid my head back out and let the sliders slam shut.

Slamming the yellow Emergency Bar, I hear a loud, whining alarm go off. Exhausted, I sit on a seat. I did not pay much attention, but no one came. I got up, running along the compartment, back and forth. I attempted to look for the ring again, but to no avail. The alarm switched off, emitting a beep only every 10 seconds instead of 2. Even the emergency alarm had given up on me.

Panic flooded through every artery and vein of my body. I ran back down the length of the compartment, reaching the connection door. Wrenching the door open, I ran into the next compartment. Empty, desolate, quiet. The sun shone brightly through the shaded windows, giving an odd, mottled effect on the red seats as bits of sun penetrated the tint. My body was acting of it’s own accord, my mind numb. My cell phone vibrated, I had received a depressing text from Sneha. I responded without knowledge of pressing anything, and then attempted to dial a number, but as I press ‘9’, the phone vibrated it’s last event, and died. Running again, my heart beating quickly, through the compartment, I reached the connection door. Turning around again, I saw another exit door, locked as well. I yelled, smashing my hands against the door again. I then noticed an Emergency Exit instruction printing on the glass.

To Open Door (Slide):
1. Remove protective cover
2. Grasp ring and pull door open.

My hands vicious claws, I tore at the rubber, attempting to locate a weak spot. Reaching upwards, I felt a small hole in the fabric. Poking my fingers through the opening, I wring my arms downwards, severing the rubber line from the door. Moving down to my knees, I finished pulling the rubber off and stood up again.

No ring. My fingers frantically searched and moving over the door, seeking, hoping. Nothing.

The sun shone brightly as the window squeaked. I attempted to wrench open the door again, this time the gap had widened from the lack of the protective rubber seal. My arms ached, but I pushed, and pulled, mustering all my energy to slam the sliders open. I yelled, calling for help, once, twice.

Then, an idea, a fabrication, hit me like a 2×4 upside the head. Running over to the window, I found a metal ring. Pulling, I tore off the protective rubber seal of the window. A metal handle popped out. Discarding the rubber, I pulled at the handle with all my remaining strength.

The window came loose. With a mighty roar, I lifted my leg and kicked out the window. It landed on the floor, shattering. Grasping my bag, I squeezed myself through the window opening. I fell onto the floor, sharp glass and rocks cutting into my clothes and flesh. Bleeding, bruised from the fall, I picked myself and began to walk down the length of the train.

The sky was a brilliant, bright blue. I appeared to be in some sort of train field, the end tracks. Various, battered trains lined up beside each other, unused. I continued down the tracks, hopefully heading in the correct direction. I was heading west, foretold by the direction of the Sun. I stumbled as the tracks crossed my feet, the winds slowly picking up. I could see the tip of the CN Tower in the far off, NW distance. On each side of the 5 tracks were grass field, though the tracks were in a valley and the edges of the tracks chained by what appeared to be an electric fence.

Soon, after a few minutes of trekking down the track, I reached a long tunnel, the end not in sight. I looked behind me, the abandoned trains far into the horizon. With no choice, I walked into the tunnel.

Using my feet, I kept my path straight, following the tracks. Faint dripping sounds echoed through the tunnel. It was pitch dark, I could barely see my shoes in front of me. Ahead of me, I finally noticed a small pinpoint of light, indicating the exit. I let out a breath of relief, but immediately choked up. The tunnel sloped inwards, containing one track. With no attempt at another choice, I continued.

The speck of light ahead of me continued to engorge as I walked. My feet were sore, my socks sweaty. The blood on my arms had finally started to dry, my tongue fuzzy. The backpack felt like I was carrying a truck on my shoulders.

Suddenly, I noticed a black dot in the center of the circle of white light ahead. The black dot steadily grew in size, much faster than the growth of the white circle of light. Realization dawned on me, the black dot was approaching me. The distant sound of a blow horn came echoing from the end of the tunnel.

It kept coming, faster and faster it grew. I could see the headlights of the train on its front car. I looked to my sides, the sides of the vertigo tunnel sloped up, mocking me, closing in. The train barrelled down the tracks, closer and closer it came. My mouth dropped, my hands steady. The backpack was ditched about 2 minutes back into the tunnel. The train continued, close enough that I could feel the riptide of wind blowing me back, attempting to save me, perhaps. I could read the serial number of the car. 2L84U..Oddly fitting. It appeared as if the train took up all the space the tunnel offered, rocketing towards me. Larger and larger the headlights grew, the horn blowing apart my eardrums. I stood, raising my arms, welcoming the onslaught..