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A short fiction.

No rating, but you read on your own risk. Please leave feedback :)

FRIGHT TRAIN




I had a job, I had a girl. I really had something going in this world. My job was being a in McFLY, a job which I loved. My girl… Where should I start? , she’s amazing… just… amazing. She was the first girl I ever told I loved and meant it, because I did love her. More than anything else.

We got it official pretty fast. Not soon after we bought an apartment. I didn’t feel the need to live with the guys anymore. All I wanted to do was to wake up next to every morning and to go to bed with her every night, knowing that she would be there when I woke up. Oh my God, how much I loved her!

Our apartment was in a little building outside of town. It was quiet and pretty, just the way we liked it. ’s decorations of it were amazing. The colour-setting, everything! Like I said, she’s plain amazing. No wonder I asked her to marry me.

We had lived together for about a year and a half and been engaged for six months when she told me what I never thought I would ever need to hear. “, I have to leave. We had it once, but we ain’t got it anymore.” That was all she said to me. I guess she didn’t say anything more because it hurt so much. I could see it did. She packed her bags and then she bought a one way-ticket back home to her family. Before she left, she gave me her engagement-ring back. She had a career. She had a steady and well- payed job as a travel consultant. I couldn’t help but feel lonely and worthless. My heart broke into pieces. But I would fool myself if I said I didn’t see it coming. Our relationship had been on the edge for quite a while. Why, I don’t know, and I don’t think she knows neither.

She kept the apartment. I moved back in with the rest of the guys. Our relationship wasn’t that good anymore neither. There had been some disagreements between us lately. Well, actually between me and . I guess that’s the end of all good bands, two strong leaders wanting their work to come through. Artistic differences. Anyway, I managed to live with them. The nights were lonely though. All I could do was to lie in my bed, thinking over and over again why we ended up like this. One night it was raining and thundering, and that reminded me so much of her that I started to cry. My dear and beloved was so afraid of thunder, and when it was thundering outside, I used to hold her tightly in my arms and tell her that everything was OK and that nothing could hurt her as long as she was in my arms. I could almost feel her heavy breath on my neck and her shivering. I could almost feel her tears of fear fall down and wet my t-shirt. In my sleep, I keep having dreams about her. Good dreams that haunts me because I never will feel her breath on me or her silky lips again. In my life, all it ever seems to do is rain.

I live in a continuous circle of memories and longings. I’m trapped in a fright train that won’t let go. Last night I thought I heard her voice. Or, I heard it, in my head. She told me her love for me had never died, and that she wanted to come back. She cried and she said she was so lonely. You were waiting for me at home. I remember I took the car keys and drove the fastest I could to our apartment. Our home. I ran through the woods and found our apartment. It had never felt that far away before, and I ran till’ I thought my chest would explode and my heart jump out. It hurt, but the voice inside my head kept telling me that she would be there. There, behind the great trees, our apartment stood. It glimmered in the misty moonlight. I stared at the bench were we used to sit at night and look at the sky for a while, but then my mind seemed to remember why I were here. I ran to the door and found the key. I fiddled with it, and it took me a couple of seconds to get the door open. Then I didn’t bother to close it again, I just rushed upstairs to where our bedroom was. My head was pounding hard as I ran, hurrying upstairs where would be waiting. Waiting for me… Her !

But there was no one there. The room was dark, and our bed was empty. There was nothing but silence and memories left in the apartment. That’s when I realised it. wouldn’t come back. She would never set a foot in this room again. She would never glance upon the starry night sky again. She was dead.

I dropped to my knees. I hung my head and cried. She didn’t leave me because she didn’t love me anymore. She left me because she was sick. She was destined to die. Her sickness couldn’t be cured, and now she had left me. I cried. A whistling sound made my ears hurt as I recalled the terrible memory of the machine that was keeping her alive went off. My head hurt. My body hurt, but most of all, my heart hurt. It felt like it was never going to mend again, and I still think it won’t be fully mended.

I walked downstairs again, still crying. It hurt being around all these memories and all the stuff that had put so much effort to before she got sick. I thought to myself that when I woke up the next morning, would lie there, right next to me, where she was supposed to be. But the next morning…

I woke up and realised that I was still stuck in that fright train, and the reality hit me. She was gone, and all that was left, was this hurting fright train that run through my head.


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