Markus was sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace. The sound of the cracking wood, mixed with the sound of the raindrops colliding with the window, had a calming effect on him. He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling where a spider was spinning its web. He looked at the dusty picture frames placed above the fireplace, on the mantelpiece. He hadn’t been in that house for years, ever since… the incident. He still blamed himself for what had happened. His heart ached only thinking of it; however it didn’t seem to want to leave him alone. Suddenly he heard a whisper behind him. ‘It was you!’ Markus jumped up from his chair and looked around the room. He was alone. His heart was beating fast and loudly. He could hear his blood rushing through his head. He sighed and dropped back into his seat. It had been the wind, nothing more. He hadn’t slept in days and the lack of sleep was giving him hallucinations. He decided to stay by the fire for a bit more and then go up to his room and get settled before heading to bed. But before a minute had passed, his eyes got heavy and he fell into a light, uneasy slumber.
The car was dead silent. Markus was in the backseat, the tense mood pressuring his chest. His sister was next to him in her kiddie seat, asleep, sucking her thumb. Markus looked at the dashboard and the platform behind the wheel. The low-gas light was blinking. His father was driving and kept throwing angry looks through the rear-view mirror. Markus avoided eye contact and looked at his hands. His father brought the car to a sudden stop. “What in the freaking hell were you thinking?” He yelled, causing Markus to flinch. His mother instinctively put her hand on her husband’s leg. “Darling…”, but he didn’t let her finish. “No! Elizabeth! No! It is three a.m and we are driving home after picking up our son from the police station for underage drinking and breaking and entering! He was arrested, Lizz! Arrested! Do you not understand how bad this is?! He is a 15-year-old boy for crying out loud! His body hasn’t even hit puberty and he’s already destroying it with vodka!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, causing Markus’ sister to wake up. She looked around in confusion. Markus himself looked out the window. It was pure darkness outside of the car. The road the father had taken went through the woods and the huge, dark-green pine trees didn’t let any moonlight through. His mother kept trying to calm down her spouse. “But love, you must consider…” Once again, he cut her off. “You know what I am considering Lizz? I am considering letting him walk home! Yeah. That’s a great idea. Markus. Get out. You’re walking the rest of the way.” Both Markus and his mother looked at the man in shock. “But Dad… it’s at least a 30-minute walk.” “Well then you better get going now. If you hurry you might be home before dawn.” An absurd, cold laugh escaped the man’s throat. Markus looked at his mother for help but she had turned her gaze back onto the road, not coming to his aid anymore. He looked at his father one last time, hoping he would start laughing, tell them that they should’ve seen their faces and then keep driving, but he did nothing. He just stared through the rear-view mirror waiting for his son to get out, which he finally did. He tried to open the door but failed. He pushed harder and finally opened it. It was an old car and most of the doors were stuck. Sometimes they didn’t open at all. He stepped out into the cold night. He didn’t have a jacket, because when he had left the house this afternoon it had been 24°C, but now it felt more like 5. The car drove off, leaving him in complete darkness. The trees seemed to grow and close him in. Their branches suddenly seemed like long, boney hands trying to grab him. He started walking. In the distance he could still see the Taillights of his parents’ car. From afar he could hear the sound of a train approaching. He wasn’t surprised. Not far away were train rails. He knew his dad had to drive over them to get to their house. Markus started jogging. It would get his blood pumping and keep him warm. The taillights had disappeared into the darkness. He started running faster. Everything seemed unreal. Finally, he reached the end of the forest. He stopped running. He could see his father’s car again and the moon was lighting up the road in front of him. He looked at the taillights, still moving. He remembered the blinking low-gas sign and realized that the car wasn’t moving anymore. It was standing on the rails and wasn’t moving. Markus’ heart started beating faster. He looked at the digital watch on his wrist. It was 3.10 a.m. He could hear the blood rush in his head. He started running. With each step the car seemed to be farther from his reach, but it wasn’t moving. (It’s on the rails and it’s not moving.) This thought bounced around in his head while he tried running faster. (It’s on the rails. The train. It’s on the rails and it’s not moving.) Markus saw the headlights of the train. (The train.) The distance between the car and the train shrunk with every second. In his head his voice was screaming. Why were they staying in the car? The doors. (Sometimes they didn’t open at all.) The voice in his head kept screaming. (It was an old car. The doors. The train. It was standing on the rails and wasn’t moving. Sometimes they didn’t open at all. For god’s sake get out!) He heard screams. Outside of his head. His mother’s screams. They were like shards in his ears. The train’s loud horn made his head feel like it was loaded with explosives about to go off. More screams. It felt like his ears were bleeding. Then a crash.
Markus was ripped out of his sleep by the clock hanging on the wall ringing, announcing the time. The big pointer was standing on the 15 and the small one on the 3. He looked out of the window and watched the night train pass. The fire was out and it had stopped raining. The only sound were the pictures trembling on the mantlepiece.