The LED display above the door flashed. A mechanical voice came over the speakers placed strategically throughout the train car.
"Next stop: Netsleville"
The man sitting in the car woke up. Looking out the window, all he saw was the darkness of a tunnel. He took a look around the car he was in, he was alone. A folded newspaper sat in the seat next to him. The date read December 20, 2015. The news stories appeared to be filler.
Slow news day. The man thought.
Bright lights flooded through the window as the train approached the stop's platform. The man gave little attention to the crowded platform. He was too busy trying to remember what stop he was going to get off at.
The train pulled into the darkness again. The man was still alone in the car. The overhead LED display blinked again. The mechanical voice sounded again. The man wasn't listening.
He searched for a route map, but to no avail. The car had nothing posted in its walls.
Not even a sticker to remind people to be careful exiting the train.
More light entered the car. Another stop. Another ding from the LED display. The man was too busy searching the walls to notice that the doors never opened.
He sat down in dejection and stared at the blackness outside of the train.
The brightness hurt his eyes as the train pulled into the next stop. He noticed that everyone on the platform was under the age of fifteen.
Two more stops passed. He continued to stare at all of the children.
Two more stops until he started to recognise the faces. He knew each face. Each was burned into his memory, he did not know from where. He'd been taking the train for too long perhaps. Maybe he should start walking to wherever he was going.
Back in the darkness of the tunnel, he glanced at the newspaper next to him. Anything to relieve his boredom was welcome. He had resolved to ride on until the end of the line, they were likely to have maps and connections to get him back to wherever he had been meaning to go.
He looked at the date again, it read 31 May 2016. He squinted at the print, sure that it had just been December 2015. He sighed and moved on, guessing that he had misread it earlier.
He sighed again when he noticed that the paper he was holding was the obituaries section. He began on the first one.
Sean Anglais, Age 13 from Netsleville.
And the second one.
Erin Gerard, Age 15 from Netsleville.
And the third one.
Catherine Fishker, Age 12 from Netsleville.
Eathan Scharp, Age 14 from Netsleville.
Elise Heath, Age 12 from Netsleville.
He tossed down the paper, bored with his reading. All of the obituaries were for school massacre victims.
Yet another stop passed. He thought it was weird that so many children were standing on the platform. School had probably just gotten out for them.
If he had continued reading, he would have found that one of the obituaries was not a child, but an adult. The school shooter.
He looked up at the LED display as it dinged.
"Next stop: Netsleville."
