Page 7 of The Dare

I’m looking for her. I know I am.

I just don’t know who or even where ‘she’ is.

That weird feeling I had since getting on the train has flourished, making me feel a kind of nervous excitement as the minutes turn into hours.

By lunchtime, I’m almost itchy with impatience, and as much as I enjoy the extra room for a big guy on a train, I decide to stretch my legs to dissipate some of my nervous energy.

The train’s not completely empty, but it may as well be.

The cheerful staff looks friendly when I greet them, but there’s an edge to it all.

A look.

I know the look. I’ve seen it.

I had it once.

The look of someone who doesn’t know if they’ll have a job this time next month.

Seems everything’s being cut back while some people, people like me seem to pull money from thin air from doing nothing.

But I’ve paid my dues. I did my time at a nine to five.

Coming across a fellow passenger, I say hello. Almost regretting it instantly once she shrinks away from me.

My size only seems bigger in the sometimes enclosed spaces on the train.

To make matters worse, I even ask where she’s headed.

May as well just paint ‘psycho’ on my chest in chicken blood.

She’s nice enough before she slinks away though. “Oh just on my way back home with my daughter,” she smiles nervously and I feign interest before she’s gone again.

Knowing I should wear a bell or something before creeping up on strangers.

I only spoke to the woman because I got this feeling coming off her, like it might be her.

But it’s not.

She drew me in, but in a different way.

What I’m craving is the source of this feeling.

The one.

I’m looking for the storm itself now, and I know I’m close.

That’s what’s got me stalking the train. I just know it.

I’m asked by the few staff I come across if I need any help. If I’m okay. The man in my reflection has an almost crazed look by the time I get back to my suite.

My knees feel like they’re around my ears as I sit hunched down, head in my hands.

The world outside rattles gently under me and speeds by like a blur out the window once the train starts to really move.

I’ve left my door open, and looking up with a start I almost expect to see her.

To recognize whoever it is that is causing this feeling.