Forsaken Below The Tracks

Chapter Seventeen: Morgan's Return

I clamped my hand over my mouth. How was that even possible? I was seeing her image more clearly than I had in the last three years, it made no sense. I most certainly was not a believer in things of the supernatural world, maybe aliens, but definitely not ghosts. I could never believe that people actually did. However, this was straight up spooky. And though I wasn't the only person seeing that it was positively a figure of a person, I was the only person who saw it for what it was. It was Morgan.

I sat back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling trying to wrap my head around what I had just seen.

"Miss, are you alright?"

I scoffed, "honestly, I'm really not quite sure."

"I'm sure I'm not one to tell you, but I do believe in things of wonder and mystery. Things that plain and simply cannot be explained. I believe there is life after death, whether heaven and hell are real or not, that is not an answer that I can provide. But, I do believe that somehow, in some way, we carry on. Miss, I'm not sure that is, but that individual is in some way attempting to contact you. There is a shift in the presence of their energy, and they are trying to make contact. Do you know who it could possibly be? If you do, perhaps you can help them in their search for answers."

"Did someone put you up to this?" I was furious.

How could this strange old man possibly know that some of the things that he was saying would hit so close to home for me? None of this made any sense. None of the past three years of my life made any sense. But for the first time since Morgan had died, I was finally able to pick myself up off of the couch, get dressed, and go to our movie theater. I woke up this morning finally feeling well enough to begin the process of actually carrying on through something that she and I had shared together so deeply, and now this was happening? What was happening to me?

"No one put me up to this. In fact, at my age, I don't think that anyone could put me up to anything," he chuckled at his own joke.

"I'm sorry. I flew off the handle a bit. It's just that I lost my bed friend a few years ago, and this just stirs up some emotions, you know? I didn't mean to jump down your throat or anything."

"No need to explain or apologize, miss. This message, whatever it means, was intended for you, and I hope you can come to realize that. Whether you believe what your eyes are showing you, or not."

"Thank you. I, uh, I really should be leaving. I'm not really feeling so well, you know?"

He smiled and placed his hand on mine, "I know all too well. I'll show you the way back down. This place is like the Tardis from Doctor Who. 'It's bigger on the inside...' " he chuckled again.

He led me back through the maze of corridors and back down the staircase. When we got into the hallway again he looked at me intently.

"Miss, if you ever need to talk... if there is anything that you need, please don't hesitate to come find me. My name is James. I'm the only James here so they will know who you are talking about, okay? Please, if you need a friendly ear, come and call on me," he gently touched my shoulder and turned around, disappearing through the private door that we had just come from.

I turned and let myself out of the back door of the movie theater. In no way could I bring myself to return to the movie theater to finish watching the film.

I walked down the street, walking past the alley where I was picked up by the cops that afternoon after Morgan died. Memories stirred constantly in this damned city. I had to move out of the apartment that she and I had shared, the memories were too painful, and in all honestly, I could no longer afford the place and replacing Morgan as a roommate just was not in the cards for me. I lived with my parents above our garage. When I moved back for the first time, I slept in my old room but it just didn't feel right so my dad ended up revamping the garage and turning it into something of an apartment. It wasn't glamorous, by any means, but it was mine. Plus, the rent was cheap and it wasn't too bad to be so close to my parents again. I would never admit it to them, but I needed them.

I didn't feel like going home, so I walked to the train station to get a ride to Erik's house. He had moved to the south end of town, quite a commute for us both now, but it was a way better spot then the dive he had just moved from. And that's all avoiding the fact that I had to go to the same train station where a train took my Morgan.

See what I mean? Memories surrounded me never letting me go. I stood on the train platform, avoiding looking at the tracks when it felt like someone brushed by me. This time of day was usually generally busy, but today there were only about four strangers hanging around waiting for a ride to take them to wherever it was they were going. I glanced around, doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone. No one so much as looked my way, I reached into my bag to take out my cell phone to kill some time and keep my mind off of being at the train station when I felt Morgan's hair clip. I hesitated as my hand skimmed the abalone. God, I missed her. I pulled the clip out and stared at it. I could see it placed effortlessly within her mass of curls, her hair would have been the only type that could have held such a clip in place with such ease. She wore it all the time though she had once admitted to me that it would have crushed her if she ever lost it. She did lose it. And now I held it in my hands. But I couldn't get past the thought that she had been wearing it in her black curls the night of the movie. I had watched her carefully and strategically place it in her hair as she sat at her vanity. I had seen it.

Hadn't I? That was three years ago. But, even still, how could it possibly have ended up under the exact same seat that I had been sitting on. It wasn't in my bag, I knew that for a fact. This wasn't my old bag, where I would have been carrying such precious items, I had only picked this one up at a local thrift store in town last month. And as for Morgan's hair clip? I hadn't seen it anywhere since that night.

Suddenly, I felt something hit my hand and sent the clip flying. What the hell was that? I thought to myself. My hand was throbbing, it felt like I had scorched the back of it on something hot like a stovetop or an iron. I looked down and it was starting to blister. My entire body started to shake but it hit me that the clip was nowhere to be found. I started to internally panic, ignoring the pain of my hand for the time being. I scanned the area profusely, it couldn't have gone that far. I began pacing, hastening my steps around the vicinity of the train platform. Still, no one looked up at me, which I was incredibly thankful for, I can only imagine how chaotic I must have looked.

Continuing my search I finally found where the clip lay, right by the end of the platform where it drops off to the track. To my relief of finding her hair clip, the pain in my hand began to once again set in. I glanced down at it and saw that the blisters were spreading, I was in a significant amount of pain as I bent down to retrieve the clip before it actually fell onto the tracks. As my eyes were set on the clip, I saw a flash in my horizon. Looking up to see what it was, I saw her.

Morgan.

My breath quickened. This could not be possible. I was seeing things. I had to have been seeing things. There she stood on the tracks looking exactly how she did the last time I saw her.

Form-fitting pencil skirt. Red blouse. Strappy heels. Hair in black, falling ringlets.

Morgan.

No. No. No. This wasn't happening. I closed my eyes beckoning them to see clear, shutting them tight so that they could possibly help my brain to process what I was really seeing. I will open my eyes. Nothing will be there. Count to three. 1,2,...3...

I opened my eyes and saw the train tracks rising up to meet my face. I looked up and Morgan was smiling. A sinister smile spread across her lips. She had never looked so evil, the way stared at me was terrifying. Something that pushed me off of the platform, and she was happy about it.

No. Morgan. My Morgan, it wasn't me. I was screaming. If it was out loud, I do not know. I only remember waking up to my body crashing down on the tracks below me as I heard the horn of the train bellering its warning that it was coming.

And I was directly in its path.