Mr. Babydoll and the journals of his inner blizzard [peterick]

XXI

I beg you, hear me out first.

No, I indeed don't know how in the ever living hell I got into this situation. What kind of dices god or whoever is in charge has to roll for it to turn out like this, will forever be something I can't get behind. I don't know how to tell you this, but I will try.

Today is a Thursday in April if I remember correctly. I was on my way to the shop- or wait before that. Before that I woke up at home-obviously-and my head was already trembling with ache and pain, it wasn't severe, but bad enough to notice it. I found an open bottle of sleeping pills on my nightstand, but let that be beside the point. It's all beside the point and unnecessary-anyways, I was going to work-I swear I was going to work or at least I planned to. That's what I was going to do.

Later I found myself in a moving train going to whoever the hell knows. It's like I suddenly woke up there although I haven't been sleeping before, it's not like I fell asleep in a train or something, I literally walked in there like a sleep walker before I realised-after hours probably-where I was. I don't fucking know how this happened. I swear to god, I really don't know.

I'm scared of myself sometimes. It's like that Christmas market thing all over again. I feel like the string that was supposed to keep me attached to reality was cut in half and now I'm floating more and more away from earth. I don't want this, I-I don't...

I got up from my seat and just kept walking down the train aisle and stopped when I noticed a younger girl sitting near a window, dreamingly watching the trees and houses passing by outside. I'm going to hate myself for this later, but I needed insurance.

"Excuse...excuse me miss.." The girl spun around as she noticed I was talking to her. I could sense a tiny strike of fear in her eyes while they were scanning my appearance. No wonder, I was a grown and rather darker skinned man who also looked as miserable and withdrawn as possible. I'd have to get this over with before she takes out the pepper spray. "Do you know where this train is heading?" I asked as nicely as I could. The tension in her body faded slightly. "Chicago." she informed me as she sat up straight. "Thanks." I replied and walked away before she could notice my trembling hands.

Chicago. Never in my life have I ever been in Chicago. I swear, never. But for reasons unknown, my blood froze just spelling the city's name. There is simply no doubt that there is something heavily wrong with me, but why? Haven't I been a good person most of the time? Am I slowly going insane?

All these impulsive thoughts came back once again, but without anyone to pull me out of it. No one I knew. I searched for safety in the bathroom only to have the realisation that train bathrooms are incredibly awful, though it was too late now. Having reached the toilet seat early enough, I started puking my guts out. Not that there was actually anything coming out, my body was being violently shaken up by forceful confusion and the fast incoming of pictures that my brain was unable assigning any meaning or context to. I want to go home, please god or anyone, let me go home. Send me an angel or anything, but don't make me suffer, I beg you...

The urge to throw up swam away as fast as it had waved over me, my body slowly calmed down, letting me lay on a dirty bathroom floor. I tried to concentrate con every single noise to distract myself. Beside the sound of my own breathing and the train rumbling over the railways, there was nothing else at first. Until my ears deciphered a very faint noise that could only be described as short nails scratching on a surface that was neither wood nor stone. Took me way too long to realise someone was knocking the "we will rock you" rhythm against the wall in the stall next to me. Someone had listened to me puking the ever living hell out of my human shell.

"Are you done yet?" a young voice asked innocently. I was fed up with familiar voices by that point.
I bolted out of the bathroom stall, causing the door to almost swing out of its frame. Tyler pointed to my feet. "Your shoes are untied."