Train

I don't remember when this dream occurred, sometime in the last year or two.

The city was futuristic. Skyscrapers that reached high into the atmosphere through the clouds, smooth and flowing architecture, and a train that ran vertically. It was like a monorail. I was on the train, headed up. People remained standing or sitting horizontally, their hair hanging down. Those who stood had their feet firmly planted on the floor, hands clutching one of the cold metal poles. Briefcases and belongings were held tight. I was watching the city slide by out the window from my seat.

It was raining heavily outside. The sky was dark and cloudy, lightning flashing here and there and the sound of thunder easily heard through the constant rumbling of the train.

The train was still ascending, higher and higher, when without warning it lost power, the rumbling stopped, all was silent for a fraction of a second, and then it plummeted back down towards the earth. Whatever way that people had been able to remain horizontal failed as well. Everyone went crashing to the back of the cars, some trying desperately to cling to the metal poles or their seats. The train was screeching, dimly lit by emergency lights. Sparks flew by the windows. And people were screaming. Screaming and screaming. I sat silently, watching others, watching the blur of the lights from the skyscrapers, and waiting for the end.

I was sitting only a few seats away from the back of the car, now the end that would hit first. There was a pole in front of me. I somehow managed to stand up and gripped it tightly as I stepped onto my seat, crouching, wondering if there was any way to survive the impact. There were a few cars that would hit the ground first. There was a glimpse of leafy trees, and then the train hit the ground. The bottom cars hit hard and the force shot through the train. People were flung around the car and I somehow managed to keep hold on the metal pole, still crouching on the seat. The cars below crumpled. People and parts of them flew past the windows with chunks of metal, leaving streaks of blood that the rain slowly diluted. Our car was disconnected from the ones below and as it hit against them was positioned to keep its momentum going forward along the ground and still upright.

Our car was the front car now with the others broken away. The glass door at the front of the car was our windshield as we plowed through a park. A bicyclist. A woman pushing stroller. Countless people crushed, blown apart, and smashed by the out of control train. And I had a front row seat. Blood was splattered over every window and I soon could barely see out the front glass. We were finally slowing to a stop. I looked around the car. People were crying. They were screaming not in terror now, but in pain and shock. A few lay limp on the floor in pools of blood. I noticed that parts of the roof were gone, probably stripped away by the metal that had flown by from the other cars. Windows were broken too. The rain was slowly washing the blood away.