Catherina- Day 6

I stood by the gate, my navy-blue backpack (the bottom of which was almost touching the ground) dangling in one hand and the phone in the other - this pose was not safe, highly unrecommended for any subway taker. To maintain my balance, I allowed my weight to shift slightly along the shivering silver snake floating in the tunnel.

I had a predetermined destination unknown to me, and thus I had no interest in observing my surrounding. I just took in whatever information my eyes allowed: the pearl white interior wall, some sticky blueish paste close to my feet looking like over-chewed bubble gum, and two lines of frost-colored seats.

While I thought the component of this picture would stay fixed until the next stop – as I was sure that the cabin carried no one but me – I saw movement by the left corner of my eye. It was a figure of human – probably male, white top and dark bottom. I slightly lifted my head to see the man fuller: he was young, had pale skin, dark straight hair, white shirt, and denim jeans, appearing from the adjacent cabin on the left. Perfectly normal at first sight, this man. Nonetheless, he conveyed to me a sense of wetness. His attire was dry, and yet the way that his fringes stuck together on his forehead and jawline shimmered under the cabin light reminded me of swimmers just coming out of water.

I shared the cabin with him as thus – me on this side and him the other. With a sudden shift forward, the metro stopped by a station, and I saw three of my friends boarding – all of us took this line to school. I waved to them, and they responded. The cabin was no longer empty, and now I felt safe enough to erase the man from my sight. My friends and I formed a little circle on the left side of our gate - all three of them had their back to the young man.

Are we going to school? I wanted to ask them, and yet I found myself incapable of forming sounds. The three walked closer, enclosing upon me who had my back against the wall, and no one seemed to notice anything. Strange. The girls were not chatting, while I had the impression that they were communicating – am I left out? Silence. Silence prevailed.

The subway made a great shiver as it was turning. Silence prevailed and then broke by a heavy sound, that of weight dropping onto the ground, and my sight opened up. One of my friends, the one standing in the middle of the three, fell. Her eyes were open, lips cherry, and chest moving. She was alive, and how she lied there a lifeless stone! Unconsciously I slid my phone into the side pocket of my coat, clutched my fist, and lifted my back from the wall. Strange that I didn't immediately kneel by my fallen friend's side, for I was afraid, afraid that I would trigger something, initiating certain forms of danger from my two standing friends. Thus, three girls forming a broken circle, one confronting the other two. Tension stretched out, and familiar wetness crept underneath my skin. I shivered.

Now that I should see the man clearly, I could find him no more. He disappeared from the cabin noiselessly, leaving only a trace of water on what used to be his seat. My two friends kept perfectly still with the same body inclination, only a little step closer to me. Now I felt uneasy – I held my breath for a second and released a long exhalation. Calm down.

I shifted my weight onto my right foot, heel slightly lifted from the ground, and knees bent slightly. The subway was decelerating, approaching the next station second by second. Slower and slower the train went, and closer and closer, my friends came up to me. They moved with such deliberate calibration that I did not realize they were closing in until our breasts almost touching!

The subway arrived at the station, but not entirely stopped yet. I waited for one, two, three more seconds – the gates lined up. First, the small glass gates on the edge of the subway platform open, and then, the inner gates - including the one opposite to me. At that moment, I dropped my backpack, jumped with all my forces over the stiff body of my petrified friend, and sprinted towards the platform. I raced up the stairs and pounded my card onto the sensing area of the machine. $22 left, said it in red.

Once outside the station, I looked back. No one followed me, only a man walking up to me. Hands dangling by his side, the young man was coming from a far-right entrance. Now, he seemed to be even wetter, water constantly dripping from the tip of his hair. Even his white shirt seemed soaked, outlining his body and showing the paleness of skin underneath. "Wet man," I repeated this name silently.

I stiffened, fixed at my spot idiotically, and during which he took another five steps. One, two, three, four, five. I counted until the air exhausted. Then, I started to run. One leg afore another, kicking the ground with all my weight. I ran up the nearest escalator – exit 5, it marked. The wet man was following me at a consistent pace, with ease and a certain degree of grace. In contrast, I was a running mess. My breath fell short, my chest felt pain, and I felt blood flooding up my throat – so much that I could hardly suppress.

At the end of the escalator, I entered a cafeteria. I saw people lining up to buy margarita and mac-and-cheese, and people sitting in the "dining" area, chatting and eating. I felt a bit safer – surely that wet man won't attack the entire crowd? The next second, I was frozen from head to toe when I saw my friends (the three on the subway) smiling to me, waving to have me sit beside them. I did not understand, and yet my body seemed to fell under their spell. I walked towards them with a smile on my face. I heard myself say, "hi," asking if I could grab some of their fries. Of course, they shared their meal happily as we were back in school. Thus, I sat among them, and in a few minutes, went to buy myself a burger, and sat back down after paying.

Things back to normal - be not I glad? I knew I forgot something, though, and my mind seemed absent from my body. The girls were chitchatting, commenting on something, and then arguing about something. I joined in a few times, despite being ignorant to whatever I had said.

Then, I took a bite of my burger that was already half-eaten. It melted in my mouth, tasting like nothing but water. Drip. Drip. Water was dripping off the wrapping paper and got my hand wet. I did not finish my burger, because I was running again, leaving the melting world behind. Out, out, out under the sun. I ran forward, turn left, and then another escalator up – I exited the underground.

Nightfall outside, although I was sure I took the subway early in the day (I couldn't remember morning or afternoon, like a piece of mine was lost). I arrived at an unfamiliar place that looked like the edge of a neighborhood. It must be a summer night because the trees were green and the air humid. I walked on the sidewalk, with a continuous white wall on my right and trees on my left that extended towards the sky, shouldering one another high above my head, together forming an oily-green umbrella against the stars.

I walked fast but steady, coming to a crossroads and decided not to cross. I turned right into a road looking almost the same as before; the white wall also turned a corner and continued on my right. Nonetheless, I knew it was different because I saw that the wall ahead broke - an entrance into the neighborhood.

I walked in, standing on a path that cut across high grasses towards a small hill with an equally small pavilion on top, in front of which the path diverged. I knew not which way to take, but I walked on towards the hill. Before I could throw a mental dice to decide my fate, I saw a figure fast approaching. That was a girl, with a black rock T-shirt and shining leather pants and ankle-high rivet boots. Left hand clamping my arm, the girl gave me no time for response and dragged me to one path.

She was running very fast, and I had no time to notice my surroundings because I had to concentrate on keeping up with her. By blurry sights of shadows, I sensed that the grasses were gone, and we had probably exited the neighborhood.

The girl knew her way around, for she always chose the darkest and narrowest lanes, ones that would be appropriate for a cliche midnight murder in thrillers.

Downstairs into the underground network, we entered from a different opening. We did not take escalators down the station; instead, the girl kicked open a "Storage room: staff only" midway and shoveled me in.

Where I found myself in must not be a storage room. It had a bed, a small vent high on the wall, a desk with some makeup brushes, and goth posters everywhere.

"Why do you bring me here?" eventually, I collected myself from here and there. I dared to ask the girl – a stranger in black (maybe a modern witch) – a question.

She did not answer, shaking her head and placing her right index finger on her lips. I saw from her eyes the phrase "please shut up." So I shut and listened. Water dripping. Drip, drip, drip. Wet man is somewhere. He did not catch; he haunts.

We stayed motionless for a few moments. At last, the girl opened the door quietly and signaled me to leave. I left the same way out, noticing faded graffiti on the wall beside the stairs. When I was embraced by sunshine outside – before I could reflect upon the velocity of time here – I looked back downstairs.

The last scene I saw was the wet man melting into that storage room, the one with a rusted steel door and a sign saying, "Storage room: Staff only."

Water dripping. Drip. Drip. Drip.

And then it all stopped. I left the underground stuff behind.

photo credit: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fnews.wbfo.org%2Fpost%2Funderground-digs-secrets-hidden-communities-around-world&psig=AOvVaw1Q8g3_0dZEzyTEQVOhLYKB&ust=1591665960812000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCMCYjPaH8ekCFQAAAAAdAAAAABA1