How could I “put the past away?” I wondered. By the time I’d gotten to the dark train station, there wasn’t much left of my past. I’d forgotten my “real name.” I was Julia now. He took all that from me. He ripped me of my innocence. He stole what was once mine and I forgot my body, my name, my blood type and where I lived. I can’t tell you where I’m from because he took all of it from me and I will never get it back. But the old man told me to put the past away. I don’t have a drawer for my past. Here I was sitting on this train headed to Nowhere and there was no past file cabinet. Do they make storage containers for the past? I’d like one of those.
I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone what happened to me that night in the woods. The good thing is that I can’t remember where those woods were or if they were even real. They were real in my mind when he took everything I had and made it his. I can’t remember his face. If I could only remember his face then I would be able to tell someone.
“Tickets please.” The train conductor materialized and stopped my thoughts. He was wearing a blue hat and uniform but his face was as gray as my mood.
I rustled through the pocket of my shorts and found the crumpled green ticket that read “Nowhere” in bold black letters. The conductor was visibly irritated with his pursed lips as if I was taking forever to give him the ticket. My hand trembled as I handed him the ticket. He didn’t seem to notice.
“How long till we get to Nowhere?” Barked the elderly man in the seat next to me. Some dust flew off his hat.
“Seven hours sir.” Said the conductor.
Seven hours to think about what happened to me in those woods. Seven increments. Seven hands, seven feet, or was it one hand and seven fingers? I don’t know. I can’t remember. Remember what happened. I will dig deeper into the caverns of my mind and I will bring myself back to life.
It’s not too late.
