*Warning, the creative content below is intended for mature audiences and contains explicit content such as: harsh language, visual depictions, and themes. Please read with guidance*
The Girl From the Tracks by Franco Machado-Pesce
The train woke Amelia up. Its rumble shook her room and caused all her ornaments to fall. When the echo of the horn diminished to a whisper, Amelia slipped out of her bed and carefully redecorated. When she was finished, she walked over to her window and glanced outside to see a faint glow get smaller and smaller… until it was gone.
The rest of her morning routine was less disruptive. Amelia brushed her teeth, ate her granola cereal, did some of her personalized yoga, grabbed her bag, and headed out without saying goodbye. However, before her foot crunched on the rocks beyond her porch, Amelia turned around. She never went back inside though. Only stared.
Her eyes darted from right to left. The torn window on the second floor, the collapsing gap between roof tiles, the crack that ran down the door, and lastly her own two feet. The rocks around them started to shake frantically. Amelia smiled. She looked up and saw a bright light rushing towards her on the tracks. Amelia jogged up to the railroad and waited. She covered her eyes, shielding herself from the dust.
Suddenly, Amelia staggered, her balance slightly disoriented. Her hair whipped backwards and each strand caressed her ears. The wind’s breeze was always kind to her. When she put her arm down, Amelia laughed and took a step back. Three… two…. one. Amelia’s right arm thrusted forward and she disappeared into the blur.
With a sigh of relief, the girl grinned at her surroundings. Everyday it’s a different train-car, each with their own peculiar little quirks. She once landed on one that was full of hay. It was a soft landing and a comfortable ride, but when it was time for her to leap off, it was impossible to get it all out of her boots. She would take them off and shake, but nothing came out. Then she dug her hand into the fetid and dark cave. Not a thing. Amelia stretched her toes. The itching disappeared. Defeated and confused, she glided her foot back into its rightful place and instantly felt the prick. Attempt after attempt, Amelia failed to relieve her foot, but now- she’s used to it. The car bounced and Amelia fell. A mixture of laughter and crying rang from her mouth as she rubbed her hip. Hay would’ve been pretty convenient, she thought.
Amelia snapped out of her reminiscence and investigated her current dimension. That’s what she loved to call them. Since every car was unique each had a different purpose: a new story that Amelia could be a part of every morning. These stories were her own private universes that expanded from her world onto the other side of reality’s tracks. The specks of her imagination were the mothers of the possibilities within the metal walls and each idea was nurtured by the train; they were molded into new worlds of infinite timelines. They were places that provided her with peace from the outside: havens where she could find distraction. And they were all her’s.
Today’s car was somber and black. Amelia could barely see. Instead, she used her hands to visualize where she was. Amelia traced her finger through the dents, assessing every mark, every scratch until she had surveyed the entire room. Amelia sat down, disappointed. There was nothing in the car. Nothing she could grab and take home to remember this world by. Nothing to store in her memories. Just a car conquered by shadows and the bumps of wheels below her.
Amelia dragged herself to the edge of the train and dangled her feet. The ground zoomed beneath her. She lifted her head and gazed at the desert in front of her. The sun started to rise. Dead trees covered the landscape. Gusts of wind collected the dust and dispersed it spontaneously. Amelia focused further down the barren sand trails and met the silhouettes of the mountain border. Her parents called it the Path to Nowhere. No one knew what was beyond its rugged terrain. No matter how experienced or ambitious someone was to get across, they always failed. Their excuses always varied… bad weather, dead ends, disappearances. Amelia shivered. The mountains always gave her an erie sensation. Something wasn’t natural about it- she just knew it. It’s as if there truly was nothing there… like in her car.
Amelia stepped back into the darkness and glanced around one more time. Right to left. There was a twinkle that wasn’t there before. Amelia glanced backwards and realized that the sun had fully risen, revealing much of the room. A smile manifested on the girl’s face and she trotted towards the glimmer. She stretched to touch it, but it was just too high. Amelia bit her lip and took a step back. She propelled herself forward. Her fingers grazed it. Excitement flowed throughout her body in the form of adrenaline. Amelia stepped back twice and took a deep breath. She sprinted and on her last step the train jumped with her. She wrapped her fingers around the shiny object and landed on her toes. Amelia chuckled at her success and unclenched her hand.
On her palm lay a golden dart. Amelia glanced at it in awe. She’d never seen one of those before. She lifted it to the light and noticed a small engraving: together we rise. Her face tensed up. She continued to observe the object until the train finally stopped. Amelia put the trinket in her jacket pocket and hopped off. The harsh screech of the wheels started again and the train bid farewell. As soon as it was gone, Amelia revealed her treasure. There was something familiar about it.
“Odd to see a girl in these parts,” Amelia instinctively hid the dart. She turned around to put a face to the sound.
“It’s not that strange,” Amelia remarked. The man’s head was down, hidden by his cowboy hat. His trench coat was cut and torn. The rancid smell of cigarettes struck Amelia and she scrunched her nose. “What’s it to ya, anyway?” The man lifted his gaze and revealed a face more worn than his clothes. One edge of his lips lifted and formed an odd smirk.
“It ain’t safe is all I’m tryin’ to say ma’am,” his voice was calm and quiet, but that’s what made it intimidating.
“You don’t have to worry about me if that’s what you’re trying to say. I can take care of myself.” Amelia didn’t break eye contact with the man.
“If you say so,” he took his hat off and bowed, “name’s Rider. Pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand.
“Amelia,” she hesitatingly shook it.
“Amelia… beautiful name for a beautiful face.” The girl’s hairs stood on their ends. A chill surged up her arms and down her back. The goosebumps invaded her skin, popping up, one by one. “What brings you to this abandoned hell, Amelia?” The man took a step closer. Amelia took one farther.
“I live here.”
“Oh- do you now? Where? Maybe I know your parents or somethin’.”
“Doubtful,” Amelia bit her lip, cautious.
“Come on, I don’t bite, Amelia. I’m just a friendly stranger that’s all.”
“I’ve met enough friends and strangers.” Amelia’s footsteps finally met the train tracks. The man continued to approach her. Fear clouded her head, but the horn of an oncoming train brought her out of the fog.
“Don’t be like that. Look-” he raised his hands, “nothin’ to be afraid of.” Something glowed from inside his jacket. Amelia’s eyes quickly traced it. The man grinned. “You’re lookin’ at this?” He pointed to the object and reached into his coat. Rider pulled out the golden shape of a Revolver. Amelia looked at the tracks and saw the light approaching with its horn blaring. “Colt Python, .357 cal. Isn’t she just gorgeous? Sad thing is, it don’t even shoot real bullets.” Rider flicked his wrist and the gun’s compartment shifted open. He held it out, invitingly. Her glance fell.
Golden darts. It was full of them except for one, empty space. Amelia felt her dart burn through the jacket, as if it was trying to rejoin its family.
“I can see you recognize it,” Rider stepped forward. Amelia’s heart was not pushing against her throat. This man has been following her. “Everyone recognizes it when they see it. They only ever see it twice. The first time,” He shuts his gun, “it’s a warning.” The horn gets louder. “The second, they don’t ever see anythin’ again.” He licks the barrel of the weapon and slides it back into his coat. The train’s horn is unbearably loud now. Rider yells, “fortunately for you though, I don’t have to use a second one.”
He rushes at her, but Amelia snaps out of her daze. She ducks and pulls the dart out of her pocket. Before Rider can turn, the brave girl jumps and plunges the dart’s needle in his neck. Rider grunts in pain and swipes at the air, but Amelia is gone. He looks up and sees her head peering out of the train’s door. The sadistic man punches the ground, frustrated, and then collapses. His body is completely still. His hat fell and blew it into the endless desert.
Amelia sat back into her cart, breathing heavily. Sweat coursed down her neck. She felt something warm seep down her arm. Amelia took off her jacket. A scratch bled from her elbow to her wrist. The son of bitch got her. Then, Amelia slowly turned her arm and cleaned the blood off a black smudge. It was a tattoo. It read: together we rise. Amelia’s breathing relaxed and she covered her wound back up with her jacket. They’ve found her. Again.
