Midnight Train

Chapter 7

"That's sweet," Bex mumbles, almost completely asleep.

"The story's not over yet," I tell my tired children.

They let out a collective groan, I guess they were hoping we were done.

"What?" I ask them. "You don't want to hear about what happened after I got home? Or how our second date went? Or how your Dad almost got arrested?"

That last question seemed to peak their curiosity. Bex picked  her head up off my shoulder while Sam sat up since he was laying on James's legs. Atlanta, though, was still curled up in my lap, asleep.

"Are you for real?" my oldest daughter asks. I guess she thought I was joking.

"Yeah, that really happened," James says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wish we were joking."

"Well, what happened?" Bex asks, a renewed energy bubbling to the surface.

"I woke up to your Dad gently shaking my shoulder, trying to get me to wake up. He said something about it being six in the morning. I was honestly too tired to pay much attention. I got up and stumbled out of the train, followed by James. Your Dad was so nice, he offered to drive me home. I accepted, being too tired to walk the several miles I had walked the previous night. He drove me home and we discussed plans for him to pick me up tomorrow. Soon, we got to my house. The clock read 6:17. If only I would have known what would happen at 6:18 , I might never have gotten out. I climbed out and I told him goodbye, watching him drive away. Then, just as I turned back toward the house, I saw the worst sight in my life. My parents were standing in the doorway."

"No way!" Bex exclaims, now wide awake again. Sam also looks awake now too. Unfortunately though, Bex's outburst jolts Atlanta awake.

"Yeah. Way. Their yelling definitely woke me up. So they were plenty mad. They made me tell them who that boy was, though I refused, saying they couldn't control me forever. They also trapped me back in my room without my phone. There was no way to warn your Dad about what would happen if he showed up. The cops took their time getting there, though. It was about 12:30 when they showed up."

"My parents made up some pretty little lie that someone had tried to kidnap me when I rode the train home from a friend's house. No one mentioned my sneaking out. I knew about all of this because they dragged me out of my room, whispering threats of limited food rations if I didn't play along, and made me play victim for the officers."

I sigh and lean back in my seat more, the psychological wounds still healing from what they did to me. My handsome husband reaches his arm over and rests his hand on my knee.

"I had to tell them that someone planned to kidnap me later that night when I planned to leave the house. They set up a perimeter around the property and my parents shuffled me off to my room, whispering threats to stay in my room or I wouldn't eat for a month. The door closed, but the sound of a lock sliding into place didn't meet my ears. They didn't lock it."

"Are you serious?" Sam asks, eyes wide.

"What did you do?" Bex asks, on the edge of her seat.

"I did what any sane teenager person would have done: I snuck out my bedroom door and stole my phone back. By now it was pretty dark outside. I had to crawl underneath numerous windows, scared someone would see me. The one time I did look out was when I had grabbed my phone. The horrible human beings known as my parents were watching the police create a perimeter around the place I've called home for years, truly making it feel like a prison."

My kids sat there, shocked by what they were hearing. They think I'm joking, but the sadness and pain in my eyes is plain to see.

"I saw my parents start to walk toward the front door, so I ran as quickly and quietly as I could. I slowly closed my door when I heard them walk in. I frantically pulled up James's number and started to text him until I noticed I had a text from him. It came in at 4:48, when I knew my parents had the cops in the house. Great. Now they knew his name and his number. It said something about not being able to come because he got caught up with a video and he was sorry. I quickly texted him back, it was ok. We could meet up tomorrow, followed by a silent plea that he wouldn't come over, no matter what. With that, I turned my phone off and climbed into bed. The flashing lights coming from police cars shined in my window and illuminated the room and myself, bathing the walls in a somewhat purplish light. I tried to get to sleep, tossing and turning. I was so worried about what would happen. I knew James wasn't coming, but I was still nervous. Finally I force my eyes closed and make myself stay still.

Despite these efforts, my dreams were plagued with fears about something happening to James, or me. Racking my brain for a solution, I decide to focus on my favorite things that had happened last night on the train. Before falling asleep, I hoped that this nightmare would end tomorrow.