A man's journey

He was born in a world where the protectors received their comfort from a fetid sheet of corruption. As a child, his parents did everything they could to stop the stench of reality at bay. He never knew the existence of such a vile train of emotion running outside of his house.

Someday he was gonna be onboard the train leading to nowhere. But his childhood years were bliss with all the comfort of small-time luxury with the love of a supporting family. As years passed, he saw the tracking in front of his house and learned the existence of a harrowing train.

Knowing the existence of the train changed him for better or worse. He became confident in his action and knowledge of the world from the books of a private school. Everybody could see the changes happening in him as he began following the tracks hoping to catch the train.

The sheer mention of the train gave bad ill to the good people of the city as it reminded us of the festering evil that we as humans are capable of doing to each other. But fascination like Lust is some of the things in life that is always impossible to control.

Most of the time, they feel like putting a leash on a hellhound. The idea of domesticating a hellhound sounds good on paper, but in reality, it will have its leash around your neck. He tried and then succeeded in catching up to the train.

The moment he stepped inside the train, he knew there was no going back from this. The first part of the train is alluring, to say the least. Every inch of the cart is crafted with the vision of an inner desire of a child's imagination.

He saw a picture on one of the walls of the cart saying-

'You saw it,

You Climbed it,

Now you are running it.'

What do these words mean? He didn't care; the red velvet carpet on the floor was more interesting than any pretentious words on a wall.

The head screamed with the horror that lay beneath the beauty of the cart, but the eagerness controlled his body. Every action he took in the first cart came from the Lust; he had to be part of the other world. The first cart was small but felt bigger than the world itself.

Having no constraints to anything makes people feel invulnerable to even the scythe of a grim reaper. The mind slowly turns into a hard piece of brick, heavy and constantly drowning. The train then slowly dries out any emotion he had in his body when he entered the train.

So when he opens the door to the second part of the train, he better be ready for what he is going to witness with his naked eye. But when he opened the door to the second cart, he still had some emotions left in him.

It looked as if the train couldn't distil all the emotion out of him. His childhood years probably made him a bit vulnerable inside. With the memories of the past, he marched forward and opened the door to the second cart.

Unlike the first, the second train's cart was the opposite of the first. Everything is now dark, with slime dripping from all corners of the ceiling. The cart is filled with dread all around, and his eyes see nothing but discarded human bones everywhere on the floor. 

They are likely to be in the cart for a long time, eating nothing but dust and serving as a reminder of the life of the train. Some people went through all the train carts, but he stopped at the second one. He didn't feel as good as he was in the first cart, and he slowed backing away from the second cart to go to the first one.

He eventually reached the door, but it was locked. There is no going back to the first cart; the only option the train gives him, is to choose between continuing walking through all the carriages of the train or get out of the window.

As he was thinking about making a decision, the train stopped. All the lights went dark, and he found himself in a dark room; he began to worry, and felt nervous about what was happening on the train.

Suddenly he saw a spotlight in the middle of the cart he was in. Here he saw something that he can never forget. His mind screamed as his face created a façade. The train made him see everything it wanted him to see.

He knew no magic wand could remove what he saw in front of his eyes. After a while, he couldn't take it, so he threw himself out of the train's window. Then he ran like never before to the world he discarded long ago.

As he was running, he avoided the train; even seeing a part of the track line gave him disgust in his stomach. It took him days, but he made it to the world he was once part of. The days were peacefully surrounded by friends and family.

He shared joy and excitement, something he had not felt for a long time. As the old world around him appreciated him being vulnerable around them. Sun was shinier, the water became more apparent, people became amusing, and intimacy with love in the heart made him a better person.

But in the back of his head, he could still hear the train's penetrating horn. The sound of the horn got louder as I came to experience more happiness in life. Soon the sound got harsher, as the noises were tearing his skin apart one by one.

And he had no choice but to let it all happen. Everything got worse, as the horn could be heard every day, every second. He became numb to the world and knew anything he did in life would have the train horn blasting in the background.

Memories often denote horrors of the past. Pain always seems to be more memorable than the pleasantness of life.