A familiar train approaches me. Its one I’ve boarded before. My father used to warn me about this train, but many times I’ve taken a ride. It runs day and night on no schedule, but its always on time. I can never be sure of when it will arrive, only that it will. It can come from any direction, but its always going the wrong way. It shows itself in the distance, as it goes around the bend. At this point I think nothing of the train, I think it may never arrive. I dismiss the train, thinking theres no way I’ll board it again. But as it rolls into the station I can hear the music, the laughter, the joy, the ecstasy. The closer it gets the the more I can feel. The train is calling me. It wants me to board it. I can hear the passengers chanting “join us”. I begin to walk towards the train. I remember where the train’s destination is. This makes me hesitate, I stop for a moment. But then the doors open. The sounds of pleasure emit out like lava that moves at the speed of light. My previous concerns are concerns no more. I start to feel a pull towards the train. I fight it with all I have, but my feet move forward. I stop at the doors. Now the choice is mine. I try to think but the sounds from the train are louder then ever. I manage to block them out, but as soon as I do, a familiar voice begins to show itself from within my own head. “Just once more”, it whispers. The substance behind those words calms the fight in me. Instantly the sounds of the train make it past the block I had previously created. The sounds are the same as before, emitting joy, euphoria, satisfaction, and more. Only this time the sounds are amplified exponentially. The familiar voice gets louder, muttering encouragements to board the train. I can feel the fight in me waning, as the temptation of stepping on grows. I feel my foot begin to rise, and then press forward. it accelerates linearly, a function of my increasing desire to step on. In what feels like both a life time and a flash, my foot makes contact with the floor of the train. My hesitation ceases. I step on board like I had no reservations to begin with. The train is brightly lit, so much so that it feels like a sunny day at noon. The music is loud enough to create a relaxed yet motivated mood, but soft enough not to intrude on conversation. As I walk down the isle, I see people laughing and talking joyfully in their seats. They are drinking champagne and smoking expensive cigars. Their faces are all young and unspoiled, and the only facial expression they have are smiles. A group of passengers are dancing at the end of the isle. I join them. The train begins to speed up. As it does the outside world becomes less relevant. When it reaches full speed, I lose all concept of anything outside of the train. The train becomes my world. The annoyances of life no longer plague me. I feel satisfied. I lose myself in dance, the fast paced, upbeat tune consumes me. I feel connected with the passengers, I feel that we are feeding off one another’s energy. I am happy that I boarded the train, I think to myself. Many hours go by and I am hoping this will never end. Just when I think it won’t, the train starts to decelerate. The music starts to slow. The once seemingly endless euphoria started to fade. The light begins to dim. The feelings of pleasure fade into nothingness. I turn around to look at the seated passengers. I am startled because they are all staring directly at me, blankly. The music stops completely. Their faces are no longer young and flawless. Now they appeared old, wrinkled, and rotten. Their facial expressions were dull and lifeless. The champagne they used to hold in their hands are now half consumed bottles of cheap liquor. Their classy cigars have been reduced to cigarettes. The train begins to fill up with the stench of musk and ash trays. I turn around to face the passengers I was dancing with. Only now can I see that they are puppets operated through hanging strings and motors in the floor. It was clear that their dance, previously seeming lively and bold, was really mechanical and dull. The train was quiet. The illusion of the train was now exposed. The air began to fill an aura of negativity and loneliness. My surprise begins to fade. The memories, formally clouded by the illusion of the train, begin to surface. This ride was no different then the last one, or any of the ones before that. They all end the same. As the train got closer and closer to its destination, I draw my attention to the window. I saw the familiar signs for the destination as we passed them. I read them one by one: Sadness, Regret, Anger, Pain, Guilt. We were getting close. The train continues to slowdown. I prepare to get off at my stop, as I have many times before. But the train does not stop. As we arrive at the station, the train slows to crawl, but it keeps moving all the way through the station. Confused, I turn my attention again to the window. Outside, I see my home. My friends and family are gathered, some weeping, others with looks of emptiness and sorrow. I watch them helplessly from the window, trying to make sense of what was going on. The train begins to speed up. This time there was no music or bright lights. The atmosphere does not change. The passengers remained in their seats. Something catches my eye on the seat below me. A name is engraved in the seat. My name. Below it was my birthdate, followed by todays date with a dash separating the two. I hear a faint whisper, seemingly coming from all the passengers at once, muttering the words “Welcome, Brother”. The train stops accelerating and continues at a steady pace. I sit in my seat and try to weep but to no avail. I look up and find myself face to face with a dark figure that I did not notice before. He says nothing, but I knew instantly that he was the familiar voice in my head that had encouraged me to board the train so many times before. He gives a sinister smile and within the blink of an eye he is gone. I feel the last sliver of hope in me fade away. I accept my fate. The train’s horn whistles loudly, awaking me from my day dream abruptly. For a moment, still consumed by my memory, I still feel like the naive yet innocent kid who stepped on the train so long ago. But I am that kid no longer. Now I am a passenger of the train just like all the others. My face is indistinguishable from any other passengers. I drink the cheap liquor and smoke the cigarettes. I watch as others fall in love with the illusion of the train, one by one. At first their destinations are tolerable, but they get worse and worse with each trip. Yet like me many still continue to ride. The people are from all walks of life, the train does not discriminate. Every ride is a risk. No matter who you are, what you’ve accomplished, or how strong you think you are, rest assured theres a seat waiting for you on the train. So when the train comes around that bend, and those doors open with those sounds that promise pleasure and ecstasy, know that your decision to board might last you forever.
