The Night Train Dog

• Anisha Pruthi, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2022

The night train was just always there. At midnight every day, under the moon's incandescent glow, it wheeled itself up to platform 3 and I sat there and watched it. I watched it come to a halt as the light on its head flickered and its doors pulled apart. I watched the same small group of bleary-eyed people slowly step off its ledge and onto the platform. As they made their way out of the train station, I watched its doors rejoin and it disappear into the periphery of my vision.
The night train's infinite presence brought me as much trouble as it did amusement because there was always someone else there too, bathing under the midnight fluorescence waiting for it to show up on platform 3 – a caramel-coated, blue-eyed German Shepherd.
The station master said that the dog belonged to a businessman that went bankrupt and left the town to start over in a new place. Every day, the night train dog returned to the spot where he last saw his owner and sat there with its tongue out, paws in the air, and its eyes glimmering with hope. With a heavy heart, I watched it come to the train for over a year as it went from being a young, lively dog to one that was nothing but skin and bones.
The last time it appeared on platform 3 was two nights ago.
As the squeal of train wheels slipping against the tracks filled the air, it slowly crawled to the edge of the platform and plopped itself down. I watched it howl in restlessness and its eyelids slowly fold downwards.
I pushed myself off the bench that I had been sitting on and, possibly, from the story's sidelines, where I had been for more than a year, dragging myself to where the night train dog was. I crouched down, giving it a gentle scruff as its eyes flinched and began to open. It looked about, before fixing a soft glare in my direction. I felt my hands slightly tremble as I placed one arm on its belly and the other on its back to lift it up. The stench of unrealistic hope emanating from it and the pounding of its heart in a place full of silence made me feel sick. I knew I couldn’t let it die without closure.
"It'll be okay," I shakily muttered with the night train dog cradled in my arms as we walked towards one of the train's open doors.
I stepped into the train and we walked around every single corner of it. The night train dog peered around for its owner but there was no one there – and it now knew. It howled as I stepped off the train and placed it back on the ground, giving me a wretched glance and then walking off onto the stairway that led to the outside of the platform.
I watched it disappear into the periphery of my vision like the night train would– for the last time.