I watched a mother and child walk onto the subway. She was adjusting to the fluorescent lighting, gripping her kids hand, trying to guide him to a seat. She scanned the car to settle in. She almost looks past me, but she corrects herself. Her eyes get big as she places me. I follow her gaze and look down. This was such a beautiful white piece and now it’s brown and stiff with gore and blood. I worked a double to buy this outfit and I never would have guessed I’d be picking intestines out of my brand new white chunky platforms. If I hadn’t lost my bag trying to escape, I’d have the flats that all the walking in New York necessitates.
I still manage to try to disarm her with a small two fingered wave and a smile, but to be honest, I’m too exhausted to care. I see her push the kids back to the front of the car, hoping to distract him with anything but me. And I get it. I must look so crazy right now.
Reflex takes over because no matter what I’ve been through, I still have very human anxiety. I comb my fingers through my hair, and I find a sticky knot. At least I have an activity for the ride. I untangle what I think used to be part of an ear, and instinctively fling it onto the ground. Horror creeps into my throat and I can feel my eyes sting as it all floods back to me. I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate. I look up and there’s a disheveled man, staring unblinking at me. At least I think he is. He’s got a lazy eye and as I slowly drink him in, my eyes wonder to his bare feet.
Feet? Hooves. I blink and they are feet again. I realize in my dazed state of complete disbelief that I’ve been blocking him out but he’s been talking the whole time. They need to fix the lights on this car. I feel like my brain is pushing against my skull. He’s talking. He’s not speaking English…the only language I know…but I…I understand him. I can’t explain it. Sulfur mixed with the sweet smell of decay fills my nostrils, but I’m strangely comforted. Is it me? Am I the smell?
I notice a buzzing of flies like white noise, soothing me. Where did they come from? I didn’t notice them before. They are eating the flesh I picked from my hair. Something about this man is familiar. He tells me, in our language “My sister. Don’t worry. They may perceive you, but they will not remember you.” a wave of relief washes over me, pushing the ball of fear down my throat. Wait. “Who are you?” A big crooked smile a little too large fills his face. He says “Family. I am the occupier.” The last sentence ringing out in 3 octaves. The man falls asleep.
Just like that. Asleep. All of a sudden the lights aren’t blinking. Silence fills the car like its own sound. The panic rushes back. I have to get home. It’s my stop. Thank god. I rush to the door of the car trying to exit the station. I can’t believe it’s morning. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed out until 8am. Paramedics rush passed me and curiosity gets the best of me. I’m sick of being out, I’m sick of being sticky, but not sick enough to not be nosey and get some answers.
I go back down the stairs and stand at the entry to the subway cars, not able to go back through the barriers (it’s a lot easier to sneak onto the subway at 6:00am than 8:00am) but I’m just close enough to hear the conversation. “I don’t know how he got on the car. It looks like he’s been dead for days.” Even more stunned and puzzled than before, I make my way slowly back up the stairs.
This would be a hell of a walk of shame if I had shame to feel. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is I need a shower, some sleep, and a good cry. But everyone needs to know what happened. And I’m going to make sure this reaches as many people as I can. I’ll update with how I got here as soon as I’m able.