Written Works: The Editor's Pick
2
The last thing I remember was saying goodnight to the moon. I could have sworn its craters were making the shape of a smirk upon its face as I closed my heavy eyes in anticipation of a good night’s sleep. I’d gone to bed earlier than usual that night. The day had been long and tiresome, and the events that transpired were equally as exhausting on my mind. Yesterday, I was stuck on a Manhattan bound train, coming from Brooklyn, during one of the busiest New York City rush hours I’ve experienced in a while. I’ve been here for four years, and I still haven’t gotten used to rush hour in The Big Apple. Not only was I stuck on a train during rush hour on my way to work, but to add coal to the fire, all the passengers on this train were stranded in complete darkness.
Now, I’m not one to be frightened easily, but after about an hour of being stuck underground in complete darkness, I began to get scared. Why wasn’t the conductor making some kind of announcement to ease the bewildered minds of the train’s passengers? Why wasn’t anyone on the train truly panicked? I looked around, now that my eyes were getting more accustomed to the dark, in hopes to try to see something or someone’s face that would ease my anxiety. I saw something moving in the blackness, but it didn’t appear to be human-like. It was about the size of a small dog, approximately the size and shape of a cocker spaniel. It was moving slowly but deliberately toward me.
To make my morning commute even more peculiar, it seemed as if it passed over the feet of all of those around me, walked right up to where I was sitting and sat directly in front of me. As I squinted to see if I could make out what it was, I saw two small red beady eyes peering at me and then two sharp teeth flash before my eyes as it hissed. Suddenly it leaped in my direction, but instinctively I moved to the side, allowing it to crash into the subway seat. I jumped from my seat running toward the conductor’s door. I cupped my hands around my eyes, staring through the glass, desperately trying to make out something that would give me a hint to what was going on. I saw the conductor hunched over. I wasn’t able to tell if he was dead or alive, and I couldn’t afford to wait to find out. I looked over my shoulder and saw the motionless silhouettes of city zombies still in place in their seats.
I reached for the emergency button on the train and pushed it as I cried “Help! Is anyone alive on this train?” I remember running from car to car that morning until the lights came on again and someone came to our rescue. The conductor was found hunched over, as if in a coma…apparently having blacked out. The cause is still a mystery. The still persons on the train that morning were in fact passengers that were living, but were not alive. I always thought zombies were fictional creatures, first imagined by the most morbid of minds. I know now that the living dead exist, as I was surrounded by them on that train. Where are they now? Who knows, they probably went to their respective jobs, worked their eight hours and went back home to their families. They are probably making breakfast right now, kissing their spouses good-bye and heading out to work. I don’t have answers but I have many questions, which I hope will soon be answered. Mainly, why was I the only one alive on that train?
Last night I rushed home right after work, ate a TV dinner, watched Housewives and wished their reality, as crazy as their lives were, was my own if only for tonight. I lived too far from work to walk, I didn’t have a bike nor did I have a car, and the bus wasn’t convenient to take into the city. My only option, the only train that was reasonable to take, was infested with zombies and something else that I had yet to realize. What was that thing that stared and hissed at me, its red eyes reflecting the torments of a hellish existence? Why did it spare my life? What happened on that train, really? There were too many questions and I was too tired to even begin to rationalize anything. I drank a cup of tea and went to bed. The last thing I remember was saying goodnight to the moon.
I have thirty minutes to catch my train. Not thirty-five, thirty, as just five minutes could make the difference in a timely arrival to work. I’d dreamed of living in a nice apartment complex in midtown Manhattan, but for now, I’m glad to have a place to live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I tried not to think about what happened yesterday morning on the train. Last night I walked several blocks to catch a bus just to avoid the train. The mornings were another story…. I just was not willing to do that during morning rush hour. I’d have to transfer between at least three buses if not more. It wasn’t feasible. I took twice as long to finish my granola bar. I spilled my cup of coffee at least twice. I didn’t realize it but my hands were shaking slightly all morning. I have dry skin but my hands were clammy. The soles of my feet began to stick to the insides of my pumps. I was undoubtedly nervous.
I looked at my cell phone, its 8:25. I have five minutes to catch my train into the city. Will the same fate await me on this morning’s train ride? I need a Daily News! I’m sure there would be a perfectly sane explanation for what happened on the train yesterday. I hurried out of my apartment and ran the few blocks to the train. I made it right on time to grab a paper and skip onto the train before the doors closed. What should I do first, read the paper or take notice of the passengers, something New Yorkers take for granted in the morning. We’re so used to being in our own words, our own zones; it would take something like what happened yesterday to rattle us at all. I scanned the front page…no news out of the ordinary. A shooting in Brooklyn, someone strangled in the Bronx, a CEO snapped and went ballistic on his family in Long Island, yawn. I turned the page and there we have it.
“Yesterday an odd occurrence happened on the A train around 8:45 a.m. Passengers seemed to have not been able to recall exactly what took place. One woman by the name of Gia claimed to have seen a strange creature before she pressed the emergency button and ran through the cars to seek help. The lights came back on and everything seemed to appear normal again. Commuters who were questioned seemed not to have remembered or seen anything. The conductor was found hunched over, apparently blacked out but is in stable condition at the hospital. Police are investigating the matter.”
I looked around the car. Everyone was reading a paper, a book, listening to music, in their own worlds as usual. I thought, “Gia, you are thinking into this way too much. It was possibly just a blackout. The weather has been unpredictable. The thing you saw….possibly just a figment of your imagination. You know you’re afraid of the dark. You used to see gremlins as a kid in the dark or mini monsters under your bed.” Maybe I am thinking too much into this. People didn’t react because they are New Yorkers…. We all know New Yorkers are zombies in disguise. I scanned the faces of the passengers who shared my train car. Aside from the blank looks and glazed eyes, everyone looked perfectly normal. I exhaled and continued to read my newspaper. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Excuse me, miss.” I looked to my right to see an elderly man, apparently blind, trying to get my attention. “Sorry, but I just wanted you to know, I think it’s time you got off this train.”
“Excuse me?” I said, not knowing how else to answer this seemingly senile elderly gentleman.
“I think it’s time you get off of this train. Today is no happy ending.” With that he stood up, braced himself on his cane and prepared to exit the train doors on the next stop. I watched as he left the train, stopping right outside the door and standing still as the doors closed again and the train continued toward Manhattan. Silly old man, I’m so used to these train passengers that are half gone. Poor, poor souls. I looked down at my newspaper again and it began to happen again. I didn’t realize it but my hands were shaking slightly all morning. I have dry skin but my hands were clammy. The soles of my feet began to stick to the insides of my pumps. I was undoubtedly nervous. “Gia, it will be alright.” I tried to control myself. Then it happened and yesterday’s dilemmas became anew again today. The lights went out and this time I was standing in the darkness. My paper fell to the floor. I felt something run across my feet. The elderly man’s words rang in my ears, “I think it’s time you get off this train.”
“See, you should have gotten off this train.” What’s that? I turned my head to match a face to the words, but it was too dark, I could not see anything. I could only feel the sensation of something cross over my feet. As my stomach began to pinch I wished I could pinch myself and get out of this reality I was in. I wished it was all a bad dream but I saw the red eyes again. As red as the eyes were I knew this was real. I should have gotten off this train.
tractatos eu.
Beasts by Candice Georgia, 2012