Dear December

Chapter 6

I don't have my house keys.

That's the first thought I have as I step on the train. The station was only a three minute walk from Joel's, so finding my way was relatively easy.

It isn't my first time at a train station, but it is my first time alone; everything seems to be amplified when you're alone. The darkness of the tunnel is almost overwhelming. Crude graffiti stains the mouldy walls and the stench of cigarette smoke is enough to make my eyes well with water. A couple of buskers who are packing up their guitars stare at me with bloodshot eyes as I pass. They bend down to pick up their hats, only to find less than a few dollars worth of nickels and dimes lying at the bottom. I would've given them some spare change if I had any on me, but I honestly didn't think I would find myself in this position.

The train is basically deserted. Its dusty seats are bare of any travellers. In fact, I'm the only one boarding, dis-including the tall man with the greasy beard who is sat a chair down from the door. I'll have to pray my mum and dad get home shortly after me (which is highly unlikely, since I'm almost certain a train is quicker than a laggy, beat up Honda).

Mum and Dad. Mum and Dad.

Mum and Joel.

My head bangs against the train's window, buzzing from the light vibrations the turning wheels emit. I don't even want to think about it. Maybe I just saw something I only think I saw. Maybe what happened didn't really happen.

I rub my sore wrist with the tips of my fingers. It definitely happened.

My second thought has me pulling the phone from my pocket.

Flicking on the screen, it tells me the time is 9:50pm. It also tells me I have three missed texts from Enya.

Enya: shit that came out weird
Enya: not like that
Enya: r u there?

I don't respond directly when I shoot her the message. She can tell me tonight.

Me: Change of plan about the party- send me the address.

Three dots in the corner pop up instantly.

Enya: thought you had a family thing tnight?

She adds the address below.

Me: I did

The train screeches to a halt. Greasy-beard flings himself out the door, sprinting down the station like a track racer. That's odd. Checking behind me to make sure there's no murderer he's running away from, I stumble down the aisle, grabbing onto adjacent chairs to steady myself.

Once I'm out of the station and into air which doesn't smell like piss and marijuana, I pull out google maps and type in the address. It takes what feels like an hour to load, my 4G taking its last, dying breaths. I quickly screenshot the directions and zoom in.

Okay. So if I'm here, and the house is there. My fingers trail along the lines that connect the destinations. Then that means the house is that way. Should I really be trusting myself on this one, though? I could only find my way to calculus on the third day of school.