Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Fireflies (Part 1)

The wind is rushing by. My ears can barely hear anything else now. Screams and heat is all around me. Warm sticky blood is trickling down my forehead and into my eyes. As my vision is becoming blurrier, I can tell that my arms are broken in multiple places. I try to get to my feet, but my legs are trapped underneath one of the many seats strew about the upturned car. Everything goes a searing white for a moment or perhaps hours. I can’t think straight, only the pain is at the forefront of my mind. I think about my family, will I see them again? The cacophony slowly becomes quieter, perhaps I’m becoming used to the horrible sounds around me. Then everything fades to black.
I am once again conscious, but I’m no longer in the train car. Every day it’s the same nightmare, well as much as one can have a nightmare during the day. It’s been the same thing over and over again for 150 years. One may be wondering how that’s even possible? I do hope you’re not thinking that I’m a vampire. Don’t be silly; those only exist in the minds of conspiracy theorists and people who watch to many teen heartthrob movies. I’m a ghost, and not one of your crazed I want to destroy the world kind of ghosts; no I’m just a want to live my death in peace kind of ghost.
Perhaps you’re wondering how I came to have this affliction? Well I had the phenomenal delight of dying on a train bound for California during the tail end of the California gold rush. I was on the B&O headed out to St. Louis to pick up my wife, Margaret, and our daughter, Emeline. We would have then continued all the way to California together. I had been in New York City working out some of our finances and other obligatory errands. But my train, never made it to St. Louis, somehow it got accidently diverted in Grafton, West Virginia and came to a crashing halt in the middle of the night near Columbus, Ohio. The aged conductor, who must have been losing his eyesight, never saw it coming.
All our bodies were brought to Union Cemetery, a quaint plot of land on the Olentangy River. There were about sixty of us on the train when it happened, most were asleep, which I imagine made it a more peaceful way out. Not the hell and horror I woke up to as the last minutes of my life were being wrenched from me. But that is all in the past now. Now I rest during the day in my grave and come out at night to watch the stars and consider the big questions of the universe. I really never thought it would be like this at all. You might be wondering: does everyone become a ghost when they expire? Simply put, no. I can’t say where most people go, but it isn’t here. And I doubt staying behind has anything to do with unfinished business. Everything I had needed to do was taken care of. I feel entirely satisfied with how my life went. Sure, I might have liked more time with my family, but they would be set with the insurance payout.

-V-

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