Pieces of Time

"I remember the day."

That is how he had started it off. I was on edge the entire time they were explaining. Mom just kept crying and Dad sat there stone-faced. When they were finished explaining and all the tears and "I love you's" were said, I didn't know what to think. What can you think? "You will always be our daughter. No matter what." How could they say that, after all of that? 

In the end, it didn't matter. I'm here now and the only thing I can do is replay the scene over and over again. It's 3:00 pm and the train is moving forward. I can see my parents on the platform looking forlorn and I should feel bad. But I don't. I feel absolutely nothing, comatose. It's just all of it: the train, the destination, and the person whose supposed to be waiting there for me. It all feels intagible. I know that they're hoping that I'll look out the window and wave or smile, something. But I can't and, as the train takes off, I sit in my seat and watch the floor waiting for the chance to raise my head again.

The train is warm and comforting and I don't want to get off. I'll sit on here and avoid everything. The train shelters me from where I've left and where I'm about to go. It's a cocoon of safety and I'm terrified to break out. It's 3:30 pm. It's quiet on the train and I use anything to get my mind off of these thoughts. There's a little boy sleeping on his mother's lap, an old man reading a newspaper and the train attendant is asking the pregnant woman in the blue shirt if she needs help to walk to the bathroom. As she walks down the aisle, I look out the window. The sky is clear and blue and the sun is shining. It seems like the weather is trying to tell me how to feel and it's making me feel even more miserable. I continue to look out the window; the streets and houses bleed by as the time changes to 3:50 pm.

My phone starts to ring and the number on the screen reads Home. I stare at the blinking screen and know that I should answer it. But yet again, I can't. I can't answer it. I know that they'll want to hear from me and expect me to listen to them. Listen to them apologize and tell me how much they love me yet again. I shove the phone in my backpack and ignore the vibrating. Instead, I decide to pay attention to the train and notice the red tattered seats and shabby run-down walls that people have written on in permanent marker. One specific inscription reads, "Every destination is a new beginning." If only they knew how true that was. It's now 4:10 pm.

Eventually the train attendant asks me if I am finally ready to eat lunch. I look up at her and observe. She's wearing a dark blue uniform, pale stockings, and black loafers. She smiles at me, expectantly waiting for my response. "We have a grilled cheese sandwich, fruit salad and bottle of water with your name on it!" Her hair is in a tight bun and she peers at me through thin glasses. "Oh... Sure. Thank you." She hurries away and comes back quickly with a tray of food. "Let me know if you need anything else," she says.

"Um, would you happen to know what time it is?"

"It's 4:45. We'll be stopping soon.

"Thank you."

She smiles again and walks away as I silently each my lunch. My stomach clenches with fear because I know that we'll be arriving soon. Soon I'll get off and meet him; we'll have to talk. Is he as nervous as I am? Instead of thinking about him, I think about my parents. The only thing that comes to mind when I think of them is pure anger. White hot, flashing anger. How dare they pretend all these years? How dare they treat me like I was actually their daughter? How dare they?! It wasn't fair to me. But they didn't care. They never cared... What am I talking about? Of course they did. They wouldn't have taken care of me if they didn't care. But I'm still mad at them because it the only thing I really want to feel.

The light from the sky starts to dim and the sun lowers itself from its perch. I watch it and, for the first time today, I smile. I smile because atleast some things stay the same. The sun will always set and the moon will always rise.

"We'll be stopping soon. So, if this is your stop, please gather your things and prepare to docks," blares a voice over the intercom. I numbly gather my things and shove them into my backpack. I can see the train station and the comatose feeling takes over again. It seems that the train is speeding towards the station because, within fifteen minutes, we're there. I have to get off but I can't. I sit for a few minutes, finally stand and walk towards the front of the train. My feet hit the metal steps as I descend and soon hit the concrete of the train platform.

My heart is pounding in my chest and I wonder if anyone else can hear it. My heart reminds me of a siren, a siren trying to direct my father to me. I hurry into the train terminal and sit on the metal green bench and wait. There's only one other person inside the terminal. The old man and he continues to read his newspaper. It's 5:30 pm, the exact time we said we'd meet. I am filled with dread at the thought that he's forgotten but, at that exact moment, a man walks into the terminal hurriedly. He stops in a halt as soon as his eyes set on me. He stares for a moment and smiles. "I'd know you anywhere. You have my eyes, Dawn."

"You're Ian Anderson? You're my father?" I ask.

"Yes, m'am. It's wonderful to finally meet you," he says with a smile. He doesn't look anything like I expected.