The Unseen

Her father was buying donuts- snacks for the long trip. The train was already stationed on the platform. It was going through regular maintenance check, the man in the blue uniform and hat would start the engine any time soon. Her father returned with a white plastic bag and two cups of coffee. The rushed packing didn’t allow time for breakfast. This is the best they can do.

She took the coffee and felt its warmth against the hungry chill of the day. The sky was copper brown- the imminence of a storm. Yet again. And the platform in the start of a morning blasted with fluorescent lamps.

They sipped their coffee.

“Don't feel down. It will only be for a while.” Her father reassured her. She only looked at her coffee.

“Did you write the leave letter?” He inquired.

“Yes”

“And paid your rent?”

She did.

“Did you tell your friends?”

She couldn’t explain it to the girls at the cafe. They heard she was taken away by the police and had to be bailed out. The gossip has been stirring since. Not really her friends.

Her father had to make the visit to the town to bail her out. He was stupefied to learn of his daughter’s vandalism acts. The lorry driver immediately made the decision to send her back home. He didn’t raise a spoiled child. It must be the city and its bad influence. It had to be.

He didn’t further question about her little wire snipping hobby. Why, how, who- he didn’t want to know. He convinced himself- “she must have had a reason”- for his own peace of mind. Then again, he wasn’t actually taking her home on the ground of her misbehave but rather the danger impeding around her.

His almost swerved off the high way in his massive SEMI when he received the call from the police, about his daughter and her being 'attacked' by some nameless maniac.“The city!” He cursed. ” it’s all that stinking city!”

He didn’t detail much to the family at home. He hadn’t had much to say anyway. He told them she was coming for vacation.

“You brought all your cash?”

“Yes”

“Did you receive your pay check from the cafe?”

“Yes”

They watched the platform become busier, people walking in, vendors selling hot buns.

“There is a market place in Ukio. I've got plenty of people I know there. You can get a job there...”

“I have a job”

He stretched his arms. “How much do they pay you? Cafes are not known to be extravagant with their pays. I’m surprised you could actually rent an apartment.”

She didn’t speak.

“I know you have always dreamed of a city life but this...” He waved his coffee around him “...Is not a healthy one. Look at the crime rates. I’m impressed you survived all these time. If I only knew the mess you’ve been living in I’d brought you home sooner.” Then he lowered his voice. “We’ll get you a better job don’t worry...”

“You said it’s only for a while...” Her nervous voice trailed off.

“I did. And I stick to what I say. If the condition here doesn’t improve there’s no point in returning. I just pray by then the police gets all those rats behind bars.” He took another sip. In truth, he didn’t.

What little mistakes can cost you. The wind got savage and the thunders grumbling. The lightning emerged from between the clouds.

“And the weather of this city is just as worse” her father complained. It’s this weather she’ll miss the most. Ukio is more of the kind with hot summer and fairy tale sunshine. She wasn’t meant for that kind of weather. Like the creatures, she takes her power from the cold and restless. The city was for that reason. And the reason to understand her own self.

She needed to be alone in order to untangle the confusion of her hallucinations. Turned out, those creatures were more than just her imagination. And the city has allowed her to know them better.

She looked down at her coffee. Perhaps not anymore. Shadow creatures are not known to be nature lovers and certainly not Ukio lovers.

The people were jamming into the train. Her father stood up and took the plastic bag of donuts on one hand. “Let’s go.” He said.

She stood up and put on her bag. It will be two hours journey to Ukio. Two hours to forget.