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He couldn’t remember how long he’d been on this train. Hours? Days? It all blurred together. He had boarded without thinking, seeking an escape from everything that had gone wrong—the endless spiral of bad choices that had led him here.
But where was she?
The train’s windows revealed nothing but an inky blackness, as if the world outside didn’t exist. He hadn’t seen any other passengers either, except for brief flickers in the distance—shadows passing through the aisles, silent and indifferent.
He’d tried asking the conductor where the train was headed, but the man in the uniform had just given him a sad smile and told him to be patient. That had been hours ago, or maybe longer.
Jeffrey leaned his head against the cold window. His thoughts were a tangled mess, drifting back to the last thing he could remember before getting on the train—an argument. A stupid, heated fight with his girlfriend, Laura, that had spun out of control. He could still hear her voice echoing in his head, accusing him of shutting her out and refusing to face reality.
And she was right.
He had shut everyone out. Especially himself.
A sudden movement in the aisle caught his eye, and Jeffrey sat up, blinking against the dim light. There, standing a few feet away, was a man dressed in a faded grey suit, his face pale and drawn. He looked strangely familiar.
He frowned. “Do I know you?”
The man didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked slowly toward Jeffrey’s seat, his footsteps eerily quiet. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hollow. “I’ve been where you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeffrey shifted uneasily in his seat, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu.
The man sat across from him, staring intently. His sunken eyes seemed to peer straight through Jeffrey. “You’re stuck.”
Jeffrey scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I don’t even know where this train is going.”
The man shook his head. “It’s not about the train. It’s about you. You’re not ready to face it.”
Jeffrey felt a knot form in his stomach. “Face what?”
The man leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “The truth. You’ve been running from it this whole time.”
Jeffrey’s heart raced. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to face whatever truth the man was talking about. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but—”
The man’s gaze sharpened. “You do know. You’ve known since you boarded this train. You’ve just refused to admit it.”
Something inside Jeffrey snapped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His voice echoed through the empty carriage, but no one came. No one even stirred.
The man’s expression softened as if he pitied him. “You’ve been dead since that night, Jeffrey.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating him. Jeffrey’s breath caught in his throat. Dead? No, that couldn’t be right. He remembered everything. He remembered the fight with Laura, storming out of the apartment, getting into his car—
The crash.
Images flashed through his mind. The blinding headlights, the screech of tires, the horrible crunch of metal against metal. He could still feel the impact—the way his body had been flung like a rag doll.
He had died that night.
“No,” Jeffrey whispered, shaking his head violently. “That’s not true. I’m here. I’m alive.”
The man’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “You’re not. This train... it’s for people like us, people who can’t let go. You’ve been holding on, denying what happened.”
Jeffrey’s chest tightened. He stood up, backing away from the man. “No, I can’t be dead. I—” He choked on the words, the reality crashing down on him like a tidal wave. The memories he had been blocking out came rushing back—Laura’s screams, the twisted wreckage of his car, and the eerie silence that followed.
The man stood too, but his expression was gentle. “You’ve been stuck in this place, trapped between life and death, because you’re not ready to move on. But you need to, Jeffrey You can’t stay here forever.”
Jeffrey’s legs gave out, and he sank back into his seat. “Why can’t I remember? Why... why is it so hard to accept?”
The man sat beside him, his presence oddly comforting. “It’s hard for everyone. We all want to believe there’s still a chance that we can go back and fix things. But we can’t. It’s over.”
Tears filled Jeffrey's eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. “I never got to say I’m sorry. I never told her...
The man nodded. “I know. But holding on to regret won’t change anything. You have to forgive yourself, let go, and find peace.”
Jeffrey stared at the floor, his mind spinning. All this time, he had been clinging to a lie, to the hope that somehow everything could be undone. But deep down, he had known the truth. The train, the endless journey, the empty carriages—it had all been part of his denial.
“I don’t know how,” Jeffrey whispered, his voice breaking.
The man stood, offering his hand. “It’s time. You’ll find a way.”
Jeffrey hesitated, then slowly took the man’s hand. As he stood, the train began to slow, the hum of the engine softening. The darkness outside the windows lifted, replaced by a warm, golden light that flooded the carriage.
As the train came to a stop, the door at the end of the car opened, revealing a bright, open field bathed in sunlight. It was peaceful and serene.
The man smiled. “This is your stop.”
Jeffrey’s heart ached, but the weight he had been carrying for so long was finally lifting. He took a deep breath and stepped forward toward the light, leaving the midnight train and his old life behind.
As the door closed behind him, the train began to move again, vanishing into the shadows of the night.
