In the depths of her childhood, at the tender age of 7, an unsettling gift awakened within her - the power to glimpse the impending demise of others.
Ghosts and ethereal apparitions became her companions, while the looming specter of death itself he...
I jolted, pulled from my reverie by the old woman's voice. Her eyes held mine, her gaze fixed on me while my attention lingered on her vintage watch.
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"Young lady, you've been staring at my watch for too long. Is everything alright?" She inquired, concern etched on her features.
I struggled to respond, my throat dry and words eluding me. I turned my gaze back to the watch, my heart was racing with a mixture of fascination and dread. It now reads 5:25 pm – a stark contrast to what I had seen moments ago.
The rhythmic cadence of the train's motion played tricks on my perception, blurring the line between reality and illusion. I managed to nod weakly, my body on edge, as I retrieved my bag and extracted a small pocket mirror.
The reflection that met my eyes was a familiar one, a respite from the disturbing images that had gripped me earlier. I battled to calm my racing heart, to shed the lingering horror that clung to me like a shadow.
"Your cold sweat is quite pronounced, young sweetheart. Are you truly alright?"
Her voice drew me back to the present, her gaze unwavering. I hadn't realized she had been observing me since my attention fixated on her timepiece.
"I-I'm okay," I managed to stammer, my voice betraying my inner turmoil.
"Here, young lady." With an unexpected gesture, she handed me a small tablet, its purpose clear. "This should help quell your discomfort. Perhaps motion sickness?"
I hesitated for a moment before accepting the tablet, my fingers trembling as I placed it on my tongue. The old woman's smile was kind, her reassurance genuine as she settled back into her seat.
Around me, other passengers dozed or gazed absently out the windows, seemingly unaffected by the strange tension that had taken hold of me. The rhythm of the train persisted, a reminder of the unnerving journey we were all on.
Tug, Tug, Chug.
As the train continued its journey, I found myself on my feet, drawn to the driver's compartment. A quick scan revealed the driver's presence, but something felt off. The absence of the child and her mother was unsettlingly conspicuous.
I shifted my gaze to the old woman once more, noting her watch's display – now reading 5:27 pm. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I reaffirmed my connection to reality, though the haunting images lingered like a ghostly imprint.
The disembodied announcement echoed through the cabin, signaling an impending stop. Gathering my belongings, I moved towards the center of the train, anticipation tugging at my senses. As the train ground to a halt, I exited quickly, eager to distance myself from the eerie experience.
The world outside bore a familiar semblance, passengers disembarking in droves, the twilight inching ever closer.
My own sense of urgency propelled me forward, away from the station and onto a bus bound for home.
Seated in a corner, I watched the passing scenery, my thoughts consumed by the unsettling events of the train.
The presence of a television screen in the bus was an anomaly, and as the news report played, a shiver traced down my spine.
"Over 50 passengers injured, 20 dead due to subway train problems." The report announced. The horrific details of the accident seemed oddly familiar, as if a memory had been reawakened.
"A young female student died because she tried to open the door of the train. The reason why it happened still hasn't been determined." The news anchor's voice relayed. The echoes of déjà vu swirled within me, connecting the dots to my own experience.
The images on the screen revealed the tragic scene, faces that seemed to resonate with me. And then, the anticipated face appeared – the face of the girl who jumped, the one I had seen in the train's chilling scenario.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave. A flashback of that harrowing moment overcame me, my breath growing shallow, my heart pounding in my chest. It was her, the reflection I had seen in my vision, the one pursued by the ominous figure in the driverless train.
The reality of the situation was inescapable. The person on the screen, who had met a gruesome end, was the same person I had glimpsed in my haunting premonition. The terror of the connection gripped me, my body trembling as I struggled to comprehend the unexplainable.
Amidst the quiet of the bus, my breath hitched and panic clawed at my chest. I felt isolated within my fear, helpless to shake the disturbing realization that the lines between my visions and reality were beginning to blur in ways I couldn't comprehend.
