Curiouser and Curiouser
Through the Looking Glass
The ghost town of the Blue Line north bound platform made the atmosphere gloomy and morbid due to the lack of lighting and the cold damp feeling of being underground.
The time was 12:34a.m. on a Friday night, no one ever goes north bound on a Friday night. I always take the Blue Line back to Wonderland because it was the only way I can get home, and today there was no more than three or four people waiting for the "always late" train. Now it's the "always late" train because even though T trains, subway trains, can not physically come late because there are not times of arrival and departure, but this one does.
Living in Boston I use the T-way most of my time to travel. To much traffic on the streets in my opinion. So, I have traveled these subsurface trains for along time now. You have the Red Line, Blue Line, lines of all the colors of the rainbow. North bound, south bound, and any other compass point. Traveling practically every which way you can possibly go on these things; by far the blue line north bound train was the slowest one to arrive.
I walk by making my way towards a bench so I can sit down before my legs give out. Marty, a regular as you might say, happened to be sitting on the cold stone indent in the wall were people usually sit. Marty and I would talk on a normal basis, because we went to the same college, but I don't know if he would now. We have been having problems. Instead of conversation we would have arguments.
He heard my light paced foot steps, and turned his head in a manner that his blond hair gave a little swoosh, with a smile to follow. We both seemed to wave to each other before anything else, though as I walk by a normally bare wall I turn my head to see that there was a large rectangular mirror in place of just plain brick.
Giving myself a few seconds in perplexity, I ask my friend if there has always been a mirror here and I just have never noticed it. Now, Marty knew I had horrible observation skills, but to my surprise even he was confused.
At least it was a regular mirror. I saw my female body. Black hair waving in the slight breeze. Brown eyes glaring back at me from the other side. It was me.
Still stationary looking at my reflection in the mirror I hear Marty's voice trying to get my attention by calling my name, and in seconds I know why. My face was forced against the smooth cold glass from a push, or more of a shove.
Rubbing my forehead I took my head off of the mirror and saw two boys, about the age of sixteen that looked like identical twins, running down the platform.
They must have been Gothic or something from the way they where dressed and the makeup on their faces. They had piercings everywhere, too.
Seeing them run into the dark end of the tunnel I shook the pain off as best as I could when, I remembered that I left my backpack at the entrance of the platform.
I darted my way over to the stairs running as fast as my legs could possibly go. To my surprise when I got there my backpack was just where I left it. No damage or anything, until I noticed that there was something rustling inside the gray and black backpack. It was a rabbit! A rabbit in the subway! In all of the time I have been here I have never seen a rabbit, or any other animal besides birds and rats, in the T-way. Though, a near-by zoo had an incident where all the animals had gotten loose.
The rabbit's fur was entirely brown, and was absolutely adorable; however that did not stop me from trying to scare it away. Nothing seemed to work until I lifted my backpack off of the dirty and dingy ground. That's when it ran off like a vampire that saw garlic.
Eventually I had arrived back to the place were Marty was sitting when, finally our train had arrived. It was really a waist for the train to be running and pick up three or four people, when there was only a few on the train to begin with, but this was the only way of transportation I had to get to Wonderland unless I wanted to walk. While the thoughts were going through my head Marty was being the gentleman that he is and saved a seat next to him so I can sit, but it wouldn't have made a difference because there was only Marty, two others, and myself.
The train started to move before I went to go sit down next to Marty. I was afraid that I was just going to start another argument. Most likely continue that one we ended at school today, but to our pleasure we seemed to be getting along better, and while I was lost inside Marty's words it seemed that there was another person that must have been waiting for this train, but not have gotten on. The figure seemed to have well groomed and cut blond hair with what looked like a blue vest with a black frock coat which was completed with a top hat. Yes, a vest, a frock coat, a top hat, and a cane as well. Another thing you don't see in the subways that often, but the oddest part about it was that the man looked no older than Marty and myself. In fact when the man looked towards the train he looked exactly like Marty.
What grabbed my attention away from the man with the frock coat was the voice over the intercom. He must have made a mistake when he announced the next destination.
Wonderland was eight stops away.
The time was 12:34a.m. on a Friday night, no one ever goes north bound on a Friday night. I always take the Blue Line back to Wonderland because it was the only way I can get home, and today there was no more than three or four people waiting for the "always late" train. Now it's the "always late" train because even though T trains, subway trains, can not physically come late because there are not times of arrival and departure, but this one does.
Living in Boston I use the T-way most of my time to travel. To much traffic on the streets in my opinion. So, I have traveled these subsurface trains for along time now. You have the Red Line, Blue Line, lines of all the colors of the rainbow. North bound, south bound, and any other compass point. Traveling practically every which way you can possibly go on these things; by far the blue line north bound train was the slowest one to arrive.
I walk by making my way towards a bench so I can sit down before my legs give out. Marty, a regular as you might say, happened to be sitting on the cold stone indent in the wall were people usually sit. Marty and I would talk on a normal basis, because we went to the same college, but I don't know if he would now. We have been having problems. Instead of conversation we would have arguments.
He heard my light paced foot steps, and turned his head in a manner that his blond hair gave a little swoosh, with a smile to follow. We both seemed to wave to each other before anything else, though as I walk by a normally bare wall I turn my head to see that there was a large rectangular mirror in place of just plain brick.
Giving myself a few seconds in perplexity, I ask my friend if there has always been a mirror here and I just have never noticed it. Now, Marty knew I had horrible observation skills, but to my surprise even he was confused.
At least it was a regular mirror. I saw my female body. Black hair waving in the slight breeze. Brown eyes glaring back at me from the other side. It was me.
Still stationary looking at my reflection in the mirror I hear Marty's voice trying to get my attention by calling my name, and in seconds I know why. My face was forced against the smooth cold glass from a push, or more of a shove.
Rubbing my forehead I took my head off of the mirror and saw two boys, about the age of sixteen that looked like identical twins, running down the platform.
They must have been Gothic or something from the way they where dressed and the makeup on their faces. They had piercings everywhere, too.
Seeing them run into the dark end of the tunnel I shook the pain off as best as I could when, I remembered that I left my backpack at the entrance of the platform.
I darted my way over to the stairs running as fast as my legs could possibly go. To my surprise when I got there my backpack was just where I left it. No damage or anything, until I noticed that there was something rustling inside the gray and black backpack. It was a rabbit! A rabbit in the subway! In all of the time I have been here I have never seen a rabbit, or any other animal besides birds and rats, in the T-way. Though, a near-by zoo had an incident where all the animals had gotten loose.
The rabbit's fur was entirely brown, and was absolutely adorable; however that did not stop me from trying to scare it away. Nothing seemed to work until I lifted my backpack off of the dirty and dingy ground. That's when it ran off like a vampire that saw garlic.
Eventually I had arrived back to the place were Marty was sitting when, finally our train had arrived. It was really a waist for the train to be running and pick up three or four people, when there was only a few on the train to begin with, but this was the only way of transportation I had to get to Wonderland unless I wanted to walk. While the thoughts were going through my head Marty was being the gentleman that he is and saved a seat next to him so I can sit, but it wouldn't have made a difference because there was only Marty, two others, and myself.
The train started to move before I went to go sit down next to Marty. I was afraid that I was just going to start another argument. Most likely continue that one we ended at school today, but to our pleasure we seemed to be getting along better, and while I was lost inside Marty's words it seemed that there was another person that must have been waiting for this train, but not have gotten on. The figure seemed to have well groomed and cut blond hair with what looked like a blue vest with a black frock coat which was completed with a top hat. Yes, a vest, a frock coat, a top hat, and a cane as well. Another thing you don't see in the subways that often, but the oddest part about it was that the man looked no older than Marty and myself. In fact when the man looked towards the train he looked exactly like Marty.
What grabbed my attention away from the man with the frock coat was the voice over the intercom. He must have made a mistake when he announced the next destination.
Wonderland was eight stops away.