End Of The Line

• Omar Hamzah Saiyed, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2021

For him it was just another busy winter evening covered by dark storm clouds as he walked down the bustling streets of Melbourne’s CBD. He took the same path that he did everyday towards Flinders Station after coming off work. The sounds of cars and people filled the atmosphere. He trudged on carelessly with his head down, texting away, the bright screen being the only thing illuminating his face under his hoodie. There was a deafening screech followed by the scent of burnt rubber as he found himself on the ground. He got up and looked behind him as people rushed past him to help a man that had been run over and a totalled car on the sidewalk that was half inside a building. Startled and confused, he continued walking on to his destination.
He paced up and down the railway platform before sitting down again and started fidgeting. His body was cold and shivering, yet, when he wiped away at his forehead his jacket sleeve came back drenched in sweat. The platform bell chimed, and a train came rolling in. As the train came to a stop, he caught a glance of his reflection on a window. His face was pale, and his eyes were big with fear. As the doors opened, he got ready to barge onto the train not caring if he knocked someone over. Instead, he stumbled onto it confused. There was no one on the train. He looked around frantically and realised there was no one on the platform either. An eerie, bone rattling aura filled the train chilling him down to the spine. He took a seat and tried to calm himself as the train took off down the track.
The ride felt long and endless. The train went past station after station, not stopping at any. This agitated him even more, what line did he catch home? He cautiously made his way up the train to look for someone who could help him, but alas, there wasn’t a single soul in sight. As a last ditch effort, he headed toward the cab as he thought that there was surely someone there.
After a bit of finagling he finally managed to get the door of the cab open, only to find that there was no one inside. He frantically tried the controls to find a way to stop the train, but nothing would work. Distraught, he stole a last glance out the window and a raw, primitive fear consumed him. Standing there on the track staring at him with murderous intent from deep, empty eyes, he saw Death. He saw me.