The prickly grass pokes through the fabric of my shirt. It feels uncomfortable, but it was a sensation I’ve grown accustomed to. The empty night sky stares back into my soul and calms my breathing. It feels like I’m hours away from my home. A small bug lands on the tip of my nose, and I’m quick to swat it away. As it flies away, its body begins to glow and emanate a soft green light. I watch as it floats out of my line of vision, and I close my eyes once again in solitude. 

I hear the distant sound of a cricket, and my heartbeat matches its rhythmic chirping. I sit up and grab my backpack reluctantly. My heart feels tight inside of my chest. I look at my house for a moment, alone in the open field. The lights in the front aren’t on, but I can still see the chipped paint and worn wood in my mind. 

So this is “goodbye”, I think. 

I slowly walk toward the porch and dig into my pocket for the note addressed to my parents. My hands feel heavy as I set it down on the aged white steps. As I turn around to walk away, I gaze up at the full moon and feel my eyes water. I only have a few hours to get to the closest train station. Taking a deep breath, I swallow the lump in my throat and take my first step toward a new life. 

I must have walked on this path a dozen times before, practicing for this very moment. It feels surreal walking on it now, knowing that my destination would not loop back behind me but instead stay straight ahead. My backpack feels heavy on my shoulders, almost like a hidden weight of guilt pressuring me to crack. 

Did I pack too many things? I worry.

I squeeze the straps in my hands, contemplating taking it off and taking out a few things. 

No, there’s no time. I already know that everything in my bag is what I need. 

My eyes feel warm, and my face feels sticky, slick with tears dripping down my cheeks. As a tear curves onto my lips, I taste the salt and pucker my face with repulsione. I feel my feet walk a little faster, and my breathing follows suit. My heart is racing out of my chest. I look down at my feet to see them carrying me down the path, flying at the speed of light. 

I keep running, my legs refusing to stop. I can feel the darkness swallowing me. Its dark arms grabbing my feet, threatening to hold me back. It only makes me run faster. 

I’m finally free.

In the distance, I can see the outline of a sign and I know I reached the end. 

I force my feet to slow down as I approach the sign. It’s been weathered down and faded by the harsh wind and blazing sun over time. I can barely make out the words. 

I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful I made it. I reach into my backpack and search for my grandfather’s pocket watch. 

My grandfather had lived in New York City before he moved to Kansas to live with us. He used to tell me stories about the bustling cities and vibrant noise. His job was as an executive producer for broadway films. He always had a sad look on his face when he recalled those times. He would constantly lament over a woman named Sarah, often mumbling her name before dozing off into a peaceful nap. I can only imagine what she meant to him.

The little hands inside the clock read 5  and 23. I have a few minutes before the train gets here. 

I stand in front of the train stop lifelessly. I don’t know how to feel. My thoughts are all over the place. I can barely keep track of my thoughtsthinking. Although I stopped running, my heart is still racing. In the distance, I hear the echo of the train pushing against the tracks. 

My heart skips a beat. I know it would be impossible to return once I leave. With that thought lingering in my mind, I turn back towards the direction of my home with uncertainty. 

It’s still home after all… 

The train chugs to a stop in front of me. The smoke created a film over the pitch-black sky. The friction of the wheels against the metal track screams at me, and I grimace at the sickening sound. I cough a couple of times, trying to clear the smoke that’s in my lungs. The conductor opens the door for me with a smile too wide for this time of the morning. I quickly avert my eyes. 

“Hello there, little miss,” he greets me. 

Hi, I mumble under my breath, keeping my eyes down. I clear my throat uncomfortably. The smoke was starting to surround my feet. 

“Do you have a ticket with you?” He asks politely, but I can hear an air of sympathy in his voice. 

No, I was hoping to buy one on the train…

He stays quiet for a moment, I look up to see what he’s doing. He’s standing there giving me a pitiful smile. 

Will he let me on?

“How much money do you have with you?” he asks me. 

108 dollars. 

“That's more than enough to cover a train ticket. Welcome aboard miss,” he says warmly. 

Thank you, sir.

A rush of euphoria flows through my body. I step on the stairs of the train, and the conductor steps aside to let me in. 

“May I have a name to call you by, miss?” the conductor asks as I pass by. I pause and turn toward him. 

Why is he asking for my name?

Hannah, I respond. My voice sounds foreign as my name floats out of my mouth. I know it’s me talking, but it sounds like a different version of myself. 

“Well Miss Hannah, please take a seat wherever you’d like. I’ll be around to collect your payment shortly.” 

I walk away without saying anything, but I realize he never told me how much the ticket would cost. When I turn around to ask the man, he’s gone. I’m caught slightly off guard. I wasn’t expecting him to disappear so quickly. Thinking nothing of it, I continue deeper into the train and take a seat next to the window. 

This is it. 

I drop my bag into the seat next to me and stare at the fog outside the window, watching as it dances around the glass, forming into shadowy figures. Miniature elephants and horses bounce in the air, waltzing around each other. I exhale a breath of astonishment, the air hitting the glass and fogging up the show. I quickly wipe it away, but the animals are gone. I stare a little too hard into the abyss of black, silently willing the figures to reappear. 

Come back.

The conductor snaps me out of my trance. 

“I’m here to collect your fare now, Miss Hannah. That’ll be 25 dollars.” 

I scramble to grab the money out of my bag. I grimace as I hand him a scrunched-up 20 dollar bill and a slightly torn 5 dollar bill. 

Where exactly is this train going? I inquire as he tucks the money into his uniform pocket. 

The conductor just smiles at me. 

“To the city of course.”

Of course… 

Something about the way he says “of course” looms over my head like a rain cloud.

New York City?

The conductor doesn’t answer my question. He stands there with a perfect, unwavering smile.

He walks back toward the front of the train, and I twist my head behind me to find the rest of the train is empty. I feel a cold breeze roll down my neck.

I suppose it is rather early to be on a train anyway.

Suddenly, the train rolls forward, grinding against the tracks again. I try to relax back into my seat, preparing myself for the unknown waiting for me. I lean my head against the glass window, staring at the world that’s just beyond my fingertips. Slowly, the sky turned from obsidian to a crimson red, then a soft tangerine, and finally a pale blue hue. 

The world is moving past me in a blur. Trees and grass mixed into one solid color, hints of blue swirling around at the top. Blue and green started to turn grey and brown. 

I’m here. 

The conductor walks into my cart and announces that we’ll be arriving in 5 minutes. 

My heart beats uncomfortably, unsure of how to feel in this mythical moment.

I sat up straighter in my seat and place a hand on the strap of my bag. My senses are at high alert, my body aching to get off of this train. I can imagine that it’s much later in the day. Maybe somewhere near noon. I can feel a trail of excitement run through my body. 

“We’re here, Miss Hannah. Good luck on your journey,” the conductor says cheerfully. 

I smile widely at him. 

Thank you. 

I walk down the aisle, each step feeling lighter than the last. The conductor is at the door, ready to open it for me. I pause and look at his face, but all I can see is his smile. 

Smile. 

And with that, he opens the door, unveiling an unimaginable burst of light. 

I squint my eyes and lift my arms to protect my eyes but it’s too late. 

Too late. 

The corners of my vision start to swirl into black, the bright light getting smaller and smaller. I reach my arm out, desperate to grab onto it.

My back flies off the mattress, slightly sweaty. My breathing is quick but heavy. My eyes are blinking away at the sleep I just awoke from. My hands are gripping the blanket that lay on top of my lap. I release the blanket and feel the fabric underneath my fingertips. 

“It was just a dream,” I whisper into the dead of the night. 

I flop back onto my mattress, a single tear running down the side of my face.

“Just a dream…”