Is This True?

Chapter 15

Light.

It was faint, like a soft white flickering light from an outdated lightbulb that needed to be replaced. It would come and go but reappear again after a few seconds. It was almost like when you were in the backseat of a car at night. Your head would be resting on the side of the window with your eyes closed. The lights from the poles above the interstate would flash beneath your eyelids--darkness and would remain, but again, the light would appear.

It was the same.

Next, I heard voices. Soft voices.
Ones that sounded as if they were coming from above. They were muffled as if I was submerged under water or something. They sounded so far away, but I could almost sense or touch them.
Who were they? What did they want? Why couldn't I see their faces?

I could feel them.

I felt a pair of hands on my face periodically--their touch so soft, light, and hesitant. It was almost like they were afraid, but of what?
That's right, I was dying.

No, I couldn't be dying.
I wasn't the one who got shot, remember? Yes, because this isn't the first time I've completely blacked out, right? Why did it seem like forever before I could succumb to my senses again?
I hated this!

I hated the darkness.

Then all of a sudden, I felt a chill penetrating through me. The voices stopped. The soft hands disappeared.
The warmth. The comfort. The safety.

It was gone.

It was as if someone just flipped the off switch to life. Everything was so cold and dark.

Lonely.

As much as the darkness and what was inside the dark scared me, I hated to be alone. It wasn't a good feeling, but once I could finally see once I woke up, the same white lights flashed incessantly in my vision. Putting my hands up to shield the flash, a wave of cold air greeted me.

Not again.

I heard a rush.

I looked down beneath my feet--they were planted down on a hard tiled floor. The floor was a darkish blue, reflecting off the lights from above. It was dirty compiled with years of composition from either dirt or sewage. Or both.

The lights continued to flicker, but not as repeatedly as earlier. But when it slowed, it revealed a long hallway.
No control, I seemed to have been in some sort of trance as my eyes fixated on going down that dark hallway. I don't know why I would want to anyway by the eerie looks of it, but again, I had no control of my movements, All I had to do was face whatever or whoever was down there, and hopefully wake up soon.

Or either wake up now.

That sounded more reasonable, but no, I kept walking with whatever I was wearing swishing beneath me. It felt like I was wearing a dress, but after so many memories of wearing one, I wasn't sure if I would put one on again. I did.

Still creeping down the endless hallway, or now that I was inside the heart of it, it looked to me more like a tunnel.
Something sharp and rigid pressed beneath my feet like--like a track.

A train track.

Fear could be faster than a train.

I heard a sound, like a faint whisper as a soft white light appeared on the other end of the tunnel. My first instinct was to guess it was a train, but it did not move forward or farther away.

It remained still.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, I could see it was a person.

A girl.

She was young by the looks of her with skin that of smooth porcelain. She looked innocent, airy, or even considered beautiful.
Like me, she was wearing a dress, but the significance of dresses what was baffled me.
Why did girls wear dresses, preferably white, in creepy dreams or visions? What does it mean?

I felt like calling out to her, but it seemed I hadn't recovered my voice box yet or maybe I was supposed to stay silent to see what happened.
But what happened next was extraordinary.

Indeed there was a train.

And it came straight for both of us. I tried to warn her, but I couldn't.
I couldn't even speak.
All that came out was pointless air that blew into nothingness. The look on the girl's face only showed that of fear, but why she didn't move was a different question. She seemed stuck like me as if she was a part of this never-ending nightmare also, but the train sped faster and faster--its horn blaring into my eardrums.
The girl screamed, then as quick as the train sped past her, she disappeared into a whiff of white mist.

Did--did she just--?

Then it was my turn to be run over by the train.
You know those dreams where something or someone is chasing you, but you can only stare and watch? Or you can try to run, but you go exhaustingly slow?

That was me.

But I didn't budge an inch before the rolling train past me. All I could do was hope, that I would wake up.

I didn't.

The lights blinded me, all I could do was do what I thought of. I held my hand out into the air, the other protecting my head, but after many seconds, a wave drove right through me. Opening my eyes, I realized something.

The train was no longer there.

But it was on the other side of me disappearing into the darkness.
That's when I realized something else.

The train ran right through me as if--as if I was a ghost too.
But that's not possible.

Is it?