Reflections

It’s funny how your mind wanders while riding the train. You never quite know exactly what you’ll end up thinking about. I’m usually leaning against the glass near the doors with my headphones on. This lets me conduct an ample amount of people watching as I head to work in the morning.

In fact, that’s what I’m doing right now.

There's a man about ten years younger than me in a fancy looking suit. I wonder how he got to be such a professional by that age. Nobody I work with even dresses all that formally, or at least no one I interact with. I’ve been with this company for nearly eight years now but I’m still probably ages away from getting promoted high enough to have an excuse to dress that sharply.

The woman frantically tapping away on her phone next to him has an awfully large smile on her blushing face. Messaging her boyfriend, maybe? Wait, no, she has a ring, so her husband? Must be nice to have someone who’s able to make you smile like that this early in the morning. Can’t say I’m not at least a little jealous of her. My last, and only serious, boyfriend broke up with me just after high school. I probably wore the same joyful face as that woman with every message he sent until that very last one. Apparently he was “too busy” to call it off in person.

Speaking of high school, there’s a group of schoolgirls in their uniforms by the door opposite to me. They’re gossiping quietly among themselves. I can’t really make out what they’re saying over my music, but they all have paper coffee cups in their hands. Coffee sounds nice right about now. This early work schedule is killing me. My apartment building is close to the train station, so I always end up skipping breakfast and procrastinating the start of my day until the very last moment. God, please help me if there’s ever a service disruption on this train line.

“… Doors will open on the left.” I was so engrossed with my people watching that I didn’t hear the beginning of the announcement for my stop. I put my gloves on and shove my hands into my jacket pockets.  It's been winter for awhile now, but the frosty air always gets me right when the doors open. Another successful round of fantasizing, if I do say so myself. How I wish I didn’t have to get off here, that I could take one of their places. Their lives seem like they would be so much more exciting, so much more invigorating, so much more, well, lively than mine. The doors slide open, and I step out into the frigid early morning air that is reality. I descend the stairs from the platform, scan my card at the fare gates, and exit the station.

My phone buzzes. A second later it buzzes again. I pull it out of my pocket. It’s a message from my younger brother asking if I’ll be free this coming Saturday to help him and his fiancée move into their new house. I take my glove off, unlock the screen, and begin writing my reply.

Who exactly does this brother of mine think he is, getting engaged before his older sister? Mom and Dad looked so proud when he told us, too. And then he has the nerve to ask me to help him move? Hire movers or something! All these thoughts are racing through my head as I type my message.

“Yes, no problem! I’ll be there right at 8 AM!” I replied immediately. I can complain about my brother all I want, but his fiancée is simply too sweet to do her any disservice. 

As I turn down the narrow backstreet that doubles as the shortcut to my work, I’m so focused on the back and forth with my brother that I don’t know when it was that the sight in front of me first appeared. 

It’s a… girl? Maybe just a bit older than those girls on the train? But she looks a bit fuzzy. As in, the light that’s coming from her seems to be scattered, like a faraway mountain. Actually can we talk about the light coming from her? She’s glowing with an incredible iridescent aura. Is she an angel? Is there impending transit disruption on my way home and God heard my plea earlier? No way, that’s ridiculous. Look at what she’s wearing: long robes, boots, and a pointy hat? That screams witch! She seems like she’s scanning the area with her head, until she turns to face me. 

Hey, why is she raising her arm and putting her palm out at me. Is she telling me to stop? Okay, I’ll listen. 

“You’ll have to do.” She said that in a monotone, almost defeated voice. Was she hoping to see someone better? I know a train full of them them.

A light flashes out of her outstretched hand and I feel a strange warmth begin to bubble up in my chest. What’s happening? It feels like I’m being stretched and squished on the inside simultaneously.

“I’m sorry for this.”  I can barely make out that faint, whispering voice.

I feel my knees give out as a force on my back thrusts my soul from my body. The air is ice cold, more so than I’ve ever felt before. I’ve never put too much stock into those out-of-body experiences people talk about, but consider me a true believer now that I’m watching my own body shrink away from me. 

I turn around, whatever that means for a disembodied soul, to see that I’m approaching the now slumped image of the witch. My soul enters the body of the witch and I feel an intense heat envelope me. My vision gets distorted and all the colours on the buildings begin to blend together. I can just make out what was once my body standing back up. She looks at her hands, and then at me with an expression that matches the melancholy in that voice. She waves her left arm, and I feel my body tumble backwards as I hit the ground with a thud.

The burning sensation that I could feel is now only a dull heat, and my vision is slowly returning to normal. I'm on the ground, and I feel something tightly binding my arms and legs. Am I tied up?

“Someone plea—“ I tried to yell but cut myself off. What happened? That was definitely my throat making that noise… but that voice? It sounded like—

“Anyone, please.” It was barely audible, but there's no doubt about it this time. That was the same voice I heard from that witch coming out of my own mouth.

Craning my neck to get a glimpse of the surroundings, I recoil at the sudden sight of a woman in burgundy gambeson kneeling in front of me. She places the tip of her sword under my jaw to force my gaze onto her, and whispers in a raspy voice.

“Great Witch, your games seem to have finally caught up to you.”