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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2086657
Samantha finds herself in a train and doesn't remember how she got on board.
"Where am I?" I wondered to myself as I scanned my surroundings in confusion. It seemed like I was in some kind of subway. Was this a dream? A hallucination? I didn't recall boarding a train last night. All I remembered was being in my room, wallowing in great despair.

I began to rub my head as I groaned softly, noticing that I was experiencing a dull pain in my frontal lobe. Why was my head hurting so much? Did I bang my head on a gong or something? No, the pain couldn't be caused by something physical. It must have been something that I ate or drank recently. Possibly, it couldn't be that meatloaf that Mom made last night.

Before I could solve this puzzle, I looked down at myself and noticed that a large piece of fabric was covering my body. It was a silky, scarlet red comforter.

"What the-" I began.

"Oh, you're awake," an unfamiliar female voice chirped.

I jumped as I faced a young woman next to me. Her fiery red hair fell down her back and her piercing green eyes peered back at me.

"Wh-who are you?" I asked the mysterious woman as I sat up.

"I'm Agnes," she greeted cheerfully, her voice containing a Scottish accent. "But, you may call me 'Aggie'. You?" She extended a pale hand, offering a handshake.

I disregarded Aggie's warm greeting, still trying to figure out what is happening. "Where am I?" My voice began to shake in panic.

"You're in a subway, silly goose," she answered with a chuckle. "And I asked you what your name was." She slightly arched an eyebrow impatiently, waiting for an answer.

"Samantha," I told her as I rolled my chocolate brown eyes, not nearly interested in conversing with the foreigner. Then, I started to become aware of what she had just informed me. "Wait! I'm in a- How the hell did I get on the subway?" I exclaimed in shock. My heart began to leap.

"Well, you passed out on the subway station last night," she explained. "So, I helped you into the train."

"But, how did I even end up at the subway station in the first place?"

Aggie's face began to falter in confusion. "You don't remember?"

"No." I fiddled with my dirty blonde hair, attempting to remember what had happened last night.

"Did you hit your head on something?" she asked me as she reached over to place a hand on my forehead, but I slapped her hand away. I was never big on strangers touching me, even if they try to help me.

Aggie quickly pulled her hand away, rubbing it to ease the pain as she shot me a slightly aggravated look.

I sighed. "Sorry. I just hate- err, don't feel comfortable being touched by people I've just met."

The red head's smile reappeared. "Oh, sorry," she said sweetly.

Is this girl bipolar or something? Doesn't matter right now. I have to get off of this train as soon as possible.

Once again, another question struck my brain. "Wait a minute. Where are we going?" I peered through the subway window.

"The next stop is my hometown: Glasgow, Scotland."

My heart began to race again. Scotland? How the hell can a train travel from Bronx to a foreign country? That makes absolutely no sense! "No, no, no! This cannot be happening", I burst. "I can't go to Scotland! My folks will murder me if they find out that their daughter is traveling to another country by herself without their permission! I need to get out of this train, NOW!

Aggie chuckled at my reaction. "Samantha, dear," she said soothingly, rubbing my back. "Calm down. Everything is going to be fine."

"Do not tell me to calm down!" I barked. Another pet peeve: someone telling me to calm down when I'm in distress.

Her frown returned. This time, it was a scowl.

"Look," her voice turned sharply. "I'm just trying to help you out. You're lucky I'm so nice."

"I didn't ask for your help, though," I clapped back. "I can figure this all out on my own."

"And, how are you planning on doing that?" she demanded.

"I..." My words trailed off. I just realized that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. "I don't know."

I removed the small blanket from my body and tried to find my phone. I quickly pulled it out and checked the time.

4:00am?! What the hell?! It's this late?! If my parents found out that I was out this late, I wouldn't even be alive right now.

Before I could pull my phone away, I received a text from an unknown number.

{font:Hey, baby. Had a good time with you tonight. Hope I could see you again. ;)}

Who the hell is this?! Usually, I would disregard these type of text messages as spam, but I couldn't help but wonder who this is and what they meant by having a good time with me.

I started looking through my phone, from call logs to Instagram messages. When I got to my photo gallery, I spotted the latest picture of me standing next to an unrecognizable male figure standing next to me. We seemed to be at a bar.

Again, who the hell is this?! First, I don't currently have a boyfriend (and I want one) and, secondly, how the hell did I get into a bar?! I'm only seventeen.

A whiff of alcohol began to strike my nostrils, causing me to gag.

"Ugh," I groaned in disgust. "I thought alcohol wasn't even allowed in trains." After uttering that phrase, I started to recognize that particular stench.

Now, I remember. Last night, I was in my room, tears slowly sliding down my face as I took a large sip of beer, praying that the beverage would wipe out my bitterness. When midnight struck, I snuck out of the house, hoping that my parents wouldn't notice anything, and waited at a subway station, so I could get far away from the horrid Bronx as possible. But, before the subway could arrive, I ended up passing out on a bench.

"Wow," I said in a low-pitch voice. "My parents are definitely going to kill me."
© Copyright 2016 Leslie Loo (leslieloo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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